Wooing my Bodyguard Wife

“Nothing really!” Jingwei protests. “I just wanted to wake you up for supper! Look – I made noodle soup for you and I didn’t want it to be wasted – don’t kick me in the crotch -” Jingwei continues, giving her his best innocent, pitiful look and quickly points to the table to distract her.

Xue Ning gives him a last baleful glare, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, before going to the table to take a look. She still holds the pillow in her arms, just in case he lied.

True to his words, there were two bowls of hot noodle soup waiting for her. She could smell the aroma of the soup, and her stomach growled without remorse. There were fish balls, dumplings, vegetables, minced pork and… was that beef she saw lying on top of the noodles?

That marbling made it look like wagyu, but there was no way someone would put wagyu on top of plain yellow noodles… right? That would be a ridiculous expense and luxury!

She glances at Sun Jingwei from the corner of her eye. RIght, how could she forget that he was technically the epitome of ridiculous expense and luxury?

And he is still looking at her expectantly. She could smell the aroma from the soup as well as the spices used on him – perhaps he wasn’t lying earlier about personally making her supper.

“So… are you hungry?” Jingwei asks hopefully, beginning to ramble out of nervousness. This was the first time he cooked for someone, after all. He desperately wants Xue Ning to like this.

“I hope you like noodles. Because that’s all I could make in such a short notice. Unless you want to eat yoghurt with ice cream for supper.”

“I love noodles,” she says, moving aside to invite him to sit next to her to eat together, as though they were strangers at a convenience store sharing space to eat their cup noodles. Only now, it would be ridiculous to call Sun Jingwei a stranger after all that they’ve been through together in the past one short week that they’ve known each other.

“Oh good,” Jingwei says in relief, shooting her a bright smile as he sits next to her, preparing to dig into his own bowl. Xue Ning doesn’t stand on ceremony, she digs in as soon as the soup is cool enough to not scald her tongue.

“So… how is it?” Jingwei asks, half-afraid of the answer. He had watched as she took one sip of the soup and paused, before nibbling on the vegetables and noodles, biting a chunk out of the meat and fish balls.

“Did you really make this?” Xue Ning asks seriously.

“Of course!” Jingwei exclaims, hand reaching out to swear to the heavens. “I swear, this bowl of noodles is entirely my creation!”

“Then why does it taste like something my mom would make? The flavour is a bit different – but it’s so similar!” Xue Ning exclaims. “If you can cook like this, you should honestly open your own restaurant – just not next to my family’s restaurant!”

“Really? So you think it’s good?” Jingwei asks excitedly. She can almost imagine the tail wagging behind him in delight.

“Yeah, it’s great, and I’m not saying this because I’m hungry,” Xue Ning says, shoving more noodles into her mouth, slurping them loudly. “Answer my questions: when and where did you learn how to make this?”

The taste of the noodles was nostalgically familiar. She was instantly transported to her family’s noodle restaurant all the way back home in the countryside, to its red brick outer walls to the smooth walls inside, yellowed slightly with age. She remembers sitting by the corner in the kitchen with her brother, doing their homework while her parents busied themselves with cooking and serving customers.

The aroma of the soup back then, was strangely similar to the aroma of the soup now. It was enough to trigger faint feelings of homesickness in her. She had not gone home to see her family in over half a year, despite being in the same country.

Perhaps she could give them a call tomorrow, just to see how they were doing.

“I’m self-taught!” Jingwei says proudly. At Xue Ning’s disbelieving look, he elaborated. “Okay, I watched a lot of cooking videos and read cookbooks!”

“You must be a cooking genius then,” Xue Ning says through a mouthful of meat, only half-joking. “This reminds me of what my mother cooks, and my family runs a noodle restaurant.”

“And I fed you noodles? Oh god,” Jingwei laughs to himself. “Wow, I could have really fucked up with this.”

“But you didn’t,” Xue Ning continues to eat. “That’s why you must be some sort of culinary genius.”

“Nah, thanks for the praise, but credit should go to my mom,” Jingwei says. There is a slight pause as he gathers himself; Xue Ning waits patiently, because it was clear that Sun Jingwei’s mom was no longer still living.

“She used to make noodles like this for me and Ge all the time, so when I learnt how to cook, I just wanted to recreate this dish she made for me you know? But it’s not the same,” He sighs into his soup. “I can’t understand why the flavour is different.”

“Different how? Maybe try adding vinegar next time. And oyster sauce. And more garlic.” Xue Ning suggests, remembering how her mother cooked before.

“I guess I could try it. Do you cook?” Jingwei asks curiously. “Or do you just eat all the noodles in your home?”

“Yeah, I can cook, but I don’t like to though,” Xue Ning states, a pleased sound escaping from her lips as the piece of wagyu beef melts in her mouth. It was a good skill to have, but she refused to be chained down to her family’s restaurant before she could live her life to the fullest.

“That’s fine, I’ll cook for us then,” Jingwei replies easily, smiling at her, causing her to choke on her soup.

Cook… for us? Us, as in him and her? Xue Ning’s brain had to reboot itself at his statement. In what world is a billionaire’s son cooking for her like he’s her hired chef?

Like he’s her househusband?

Impossible.