At exactly four o’clock, Mu Qiu finally came out of the room.

Cheng Zhirang had already arrived. How could we let someone wait so long? Yuan Chun was about to raise her voice again to call them when the person upstairs ran down lightly.

The blue skirt swirled up like a fluttering butterfly, soon arriving beside them, and then she twirled in front of them, holding her skirt.

"Mom, Dad, do I look good?"

Yuan Chun fell silent, looking at her delighted face.

It had been a long time since her daughter had asked this question.

The benefit of having a daughter is that she’s a cute little bundle you can dress up as you please, in a lovely princess dress, with many braids and bright hair clips.

Taking the child out just once would earn a bunch of compliments, praising how pretty the daughter was, how well-dressed the mother was, and how well-behaved and agreeable the daughter was.

Back then, Mu Qiu was not shy; her eyes were always smiling no matter who she looked at, her laughter was a happy giggling that could be heard from afar. There wasn’t a teacher or student in school who didn’t like her.

Every time her mom or dad bought her a new dress, she’d have to put it on immediately, just like now, twirling in front of them with her skirt, asking if she looked good.

Mu Zhi would often laugh loudly, saying she looked good, then lift her up and spin her around. After dinner, he’d immediately take her out for a walk, carrying her back, and his smile was unstoppable.

And then it stopped.

The daughter grew up and wouldn’t do this anymore.

"Looks good," Mu Zhi said, "It’s quite like that blue poofy dress you had as a child."

How was it similar? Except for the color, there was no similarity at all.

But Yuan Chun didn’t say anything, just echoed, "It really does look good."

Mu Qiu was delighted and then looked at Cheng Zhirang.

Cheng Zhirang also nodded gently with a smile, "Very beautiful."

She held the skirt again and spun around twice, satisfaction and joy spilling from her eyes.

The high heels were at the entrance, and Cheng Zhirang squatted in front of her, putting those white high heels on her, then called Mu Zhi and the others.

"Uncle, Auntie, shall we go?"

Yuan Chun watched him help her daughter with the shoes, her smile deepening, and quickly nodded at his words, following them out.

Half Mountain Villa District was a bit far from here, and by the time they arrived, it was already five-thirty.

The car drove directly into a private underground parking garage, and then they took a private elevator from basement one directly to the first floor. As soon as the elevator door opened, they were face to face with He Jia and Cheng Xun.

Next, it was time for the two families to greet each other, with Mu Qiu standing by as a gentle and attentive figure, appropriately smiling and occasionally chiming in.

He Jia seemed to really like her, and while speaking, took her hand and praised her.

It seemed as if the next moment she would say, "Such a person is certainly meant to be the Empress for my son; ask for whatever betrothal gifts you want."

She laughed at her own musing and looked up at Cheng Zhirang.

He was looking at her, standing tall and graceful with a gentle smile.

That gentlemanly appearance, as elegant as green bamboo, filled her heart with joy, so she blinked at him.

Their little actions didn’t escape He Jia’s eyes, so she smiled and led everyone to sit in the living room, then very politely asked Yuan Chun and Mu Zhi if they had any dietary restrictions.

Yuan Chun shook her head, "No restrictions, just make something simple, I’ll help."

"Why would we need your help?" He Jia smiled and subtly gestured with her chin towards Cheng Zhirang.

Cheng Zhirang rolled up his sleeves and stood up, "Auntie, you don’t eat much spicy food, do you?"

Yuan Chun was momentarily stunned, "What, is Xiao Cheng cooking?"

He Jia didn’t answer for him; instead, Cheng Xun commented, "Sometimes when he’s filming on location, conditions are tough, so cooking himself improves things a bit."

Cheng Zhirang just smiled, neither modestly nor proudly, "I’m not the only one cooking, there’s an Auntie helping in the kitchen."

Mu Qiu looked at him, placing her bag down, "Do you need my help?"

"No need. Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Then just wait a bit, and I’ll make orange-steamed egg for you."

She liked this dish.

Mu Qiu nodded, watching him walk into the kitchen.

Actually, it couldn’t quite be called walking into the kitchen, because Half Mountain’s kitchen was open-style, and you could see him chopping vegetables from here.

Maybe it was because of what she said yesterday; he was wearing a white shirt again today, but without a tie, replaced by a casual open-neck shirt.

The buttons started below the collarbone, gray-blue fabric buttons, with collar pins at the collar tips. It was simple, but upon closer inspection, it was clear he was quite particular.

While chopping vegetables, the scapula lifted the shirt slightly, revealing a prominent and attractive butterfly bone. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—the sight of a beautiful person chopping vegetables in the kitchen was still so alluring.

No wonder people love to write kitchen scenes; it makes sense after all.

She regretfully withdrew her gaze and continued to play the role of a dutiful daughter.

Yuan Chun still felt that they couldn’t let Cheng Zhirang prepare dinner all by himself, even if there was a maid helping, so she intended to send Mu Qiu over to assist.

He Jia originally wanted to refuse, but on second thought, she nodded, "Talking with us might be a bit boring; it’s good for Qiuqiu to go and keep Cheng Zhirang company, just help with passing dishes, that’s all."

Mu Qiu agreed and slipped away with relief, running over to Cheng Zhirang’s side.

The conversation of the four elders in the living room was now a bit distant and unclear. Aunt Liu, who was helping, wasn’t much of a talker, busy on the other side, so Mu Qiu shuffled closer to Cheng Zhirang and asked, "What are you making? Do you need my help?"

Cheng Zhirang turned his head gently, "Why did you come over?"

"I’m not fond of listening to elders’ lectures. What are you making?"

"Lemon chicken. I learned it years ago while filming in a small town in Yun City. Have you tried it?"

"No, I haven’t," she leaned in, her slender arms wrapped around his, "The shirt you’re wearing today looks really nice."

Cheng Zhirang glanced at her, lowering his gaze with a smile, "You look really nice today too."

Mu Qiu’s smile curled her eyes into crescents, "The way you say ’really nice’ sounds strange, but it’s true, so it’s pleasant to hear."

"Whatever you say goes. I just peeled an orange, want some?" He held a piece of the bright orange fruit to her mouth.

Mu Qiu opened her mouth to take a bite, and he used his other hand to catch it at her lips.

"How is it, sweet?"

"Sweet, just like you."

Cheng Zhirang chuckled, "Careful, your uncle and aunt might hear."

She turned back to grab some tissues from the countertop to wipe her mouth. When she turned back again, Cheng Zhirang had just tossed the orange peel into the trash and was reaching for the chopsticks to stir the chicken pieces in the bowl.

The conversation from yesterday afternoon flashed in her mind.

Coming home to find a gentle and lovely spouse cooking is indeed a very desirable thing. No need for children or questions about ’temperature of the porridge,’ just looking at the back would fill your heart.

She realized it might not just be that men of a certain age need such a home; she needed it quite a bit too.