Digital Confessions and Culinary Catastrophes

Feeling that Luo Xuan was too agitated and might not handle any further stimulation, Bai Jingjing discreetly lowered her skirt hem again.

When driving, it was certainly better to prioritize safety.

Throughout the drive, Luo Xuan remained oblivious to the subtle changes in the fair expanse of the girl’s thigh beside her, as she was genuinely focused on the road.

Engaging seriously in one task could indeed divert one’s attention.

Upon returning home, both girls were rather exhausted, and after a hasty meal, they simply lay down to rest.

With the lights extinguished and tucked into bed, Luo Xuan found herself at a loss for words, only to turn and discover that Bai Jingjing had already drifted off to sleep.

The young woman lay peacefully beside her, her breathing even and tranquil, seemingly undisturbed by anything.

It was as if her attitude towards those arduous three years of life, as expressed in her words, was as calm and unruffled as still water.

A dull ache settled in Luo Xuan’s heart, preventing sleep for the moment, so she picked up her phone and opened QQ.

She longed for someone to talk to, yet she couldn’t think of anyone suitable.

The lily QQ group was still lively that evening, but it was either filled with meaningless ‘acting cute’ role-play or discussions about games.

Initially, she considered confiding in her best friend, but upon reflection, she realized she wouldn’t know what to say to Xia Chu.

Should she tell her, “I met Bai Jingjing’s family today, and it felt like chatting with a therapist; I recommend you try it sometime”?

Her best friend would likely block her for twelve hours straight.

In utter helplessness, Luo Xuan tapped into another group chat, and sure enough, the first thing she saw was loli riding faces (TL Note: A Chinese internet slang term, ‘luoli qi lian,’ referring to a situation where a ‘loli’ character or person is overtly dominant or aggressive, often in a playful or teasing manner, especially in games or online interactions.).

[Lemon: Luo Xuan, what’s wrong with you?]

[Eylla: What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong’?]

It was utterly baffling; she hadn’t done anything.

[Lemon: Look at you, ever since you found that… Xia Chu’s girlfriend, you’ve been showing up less and less. You don’t chat in the group anymore, you don’t play games, and just now someone was asking me what happened to you these past few days, wondering if something unexpected occurred.]

Ah, this.

Indeed, ever since Bai Jingjing had moved into her home, Luo Xuan’s real life had become much more fulfilling, leaving her little time to go online and chat with netizens.

[Eylla: She’s not Xia Chu’s girlfriend; she’s a temporary girlfriend rented for her. I’ve just been a little busy these past few days, nothing major.] Luo Xuan replied, a hint of guilt in her voice.

[Lemon: It’s all the same, doesn’t matter. Besides, what big things could you possibly have going on? You’re not actually busy “getting together” with Xia Chu’s girlfriend, are you?]

‘This lewd loli (TL Note: ‘Lewd loli’ or ‘pervy loli’ is a common internet slang term, ‘se luoli,’ used to describe a young female character or person who makes suggestive or inappropriate comments, often in a playful or teasing context.) has no sense of propriety, saying such outrageous… outrageous things!’

[Eylla: What nonsense are you spouting? I can’t be bothered with you; I’m going to sleep.]

[Eylla: And let me reiterate, she’s a temporary girlfriend rented by Xia Chu, not *her* girlfriend. If it were as you say, then when her rental period ends, if you were to rent her, would she then become *your* girlfriend?]

[Lemon: Then introduce me! Let me rent her for a month or two and see.]

[Eylla: Go to sleep, you little brat who hasn’t even grown all your hair yet!]

Luo Xuan promptly turned off her phone and closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

She had merely given an example, and the lewd loli was already pushing her luck.

‘Sleep!’

Accompanied by the soft breathing and coconut milk scent of the girl beside her, Luo Xuan, too, drifted peacefully into slumber.

****

Thursday morning dawned clear and bright, mirroring Xia Chu’s cheerful mood.

The noodles in the small pot, though slightly overcooked and mushy around the edges, with the water turned cloudy from the starch, were soft on the outside and hard within—a texture that could by no means be called good.

But at least they were cooked, right?

That morning, the big sister Xia Chu (TL Note: ‘Big sister’ or ‘dajie’ is a respectful or affectionate term for an older woman, often used to denote seniority, closeness, or admiration.) suddenly had no desire to order takeout; opening the refrigerator, she spotted a leftover bag of instant ramen that Bai Jingjing had bought previously, and decided to cook it herself.

Although she didn’t know how to cook noodles, the ramen package conveniently provided instructions—

Place noodles in boiling water, cook for about five minutes, then remove.

‘Quite simple, really!’

However, less than half a minute after adding the noodles, the water in the pot boiled over; Xia Chu hastily turned off the burner, then reduced the flame to its lowest setting, allowing the water to slowly subside.

Consequently, the noodles were slow-simmered (TL Note: ‘Stewing’ is used here humorously, as noodles are typically boiled quickly, not stewed.) for five minutes; she picked up a strand, took a bite, and found it incredibly, stubbornly hard.

Ultimately, it took a full twenty minutes of “stewing” to produce this bowl of thoroughly cooked noodles.

Xia Chu added the seasoning packets, tried her best to arrange the noodles appealingly, placed the bowl on the table, and then lifted a hand to wipe the fragrant perspiration from her forehead.

Though it had been a winding journey and the outcome was far from perfect, at least they were cooked, weren’t they!

Any ingredient, once cooked, transforms into food—a magnificent breakthrough from nothingness to existence.

The big sister Xia Chu was quite pleased; she felt this accomplishment was even grander than her own ‘Tuantuan’.

Reluctant to dive in immediately, she snapped a photo with her phone and posted it on her QQ Zone.

[Too lazy to order takeout, so I just whipped up something to eat. (Image) (Image)]

You see, such a slightly complaining remark would make it seem as though she had prepared this meal casually, effortlessly, highlighting her ease and skill.

Xia Chu’s QQ friends, aside from a few people she knew in real life, including Luo Xuan, were all online acquaintances she had added through gaming.

These gaming friends didn’t truly know her, only having the vague label of “rich beauty” to describe her.

Once this post went live, everyone would surely perceive her as someone capable even in daily life, wouldn’t they?

Xia Chu mused contentedly, but then something suddenly occurred to her.

‘Wait, Bai Jingjing could also see this post.’

Her heart pounded wildly, as if she had been caught red-handed by a parent; Xia Chu hastily snatched up her phone and deleted the post she had just made.

Before deleting it, she quickly checked: thankfully, only a few gaming friends had liked it, and no one had had time to comment.

‘She, surely she hadn’t seen it, right?’

Setting down her phone, Xia Chu picked up her chopsticks and began to eat the noodles, bringing the thoroughly cooked strands to her mouth.

‘Ugh, it really didn’t taste good.’

Setting down her chopsticks and picking up her phone once more, Xia Chu’s heart gave a sudden lurch.

[Bai Jingjing: Your noodles look like they’ve melted. You cooked them for too long, and the heat was too low, wasn’t it?]

‘So, she had seen it after all.’

Clutching her phone, Xia Chu thought sullenly, ‘I didn’t want to use low heat, but if the flame was too high, the water would boil over.’

[Bai Jingjing: You should use a large pot for cooking noodles. If you use a small pot, you need to periodically add cold water from the outside and skim off the foamy water that rises after the noodles are added. Of course, you could also use a frying pan.]

Xia Chu huffed, thinking to herself, ‘A frying pan? How troublesome would *that* be to wash?’

[Bai Jingjing: If you don’t want to wash the pot, just leave the noodles in there after you’re done. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll wash it when I get home.]

‘Hmm.’

‘Ugh, why didn’t you say so earlier? These noodles are terrible.’

****

On Thursday, Luo Xuan slept for a considerable time, waking even later than Xia Chu.

By the time she finally roused herself, Bai Jingjing was already preparing lunch.

“Good morning, Big Sister Luo,” Bai Jingjing said softly, tying a small white apron. “Would you like some breakfast? I can warm it up for you.”

Luo Xuan glanced at the time, then quickly declined: “No, it’s fine. I’ll save my appetite for lunch.”

It was almost eleven o’clock already.

“By the way, Big Sister Luo,” Bai Jingjing continued, “what time tomorrow afternoon should I go to Big Sister Xia’s house?”