Diary of Wang Xiaomei: Today I'm having hot pot in my own tomb...
A river with a layer of mist flowing along an artificially carved riverbed and an artificial mountain, with small stone piles on the riverbank and a red-tiled pavilion, appeared like an ancient and picturesque scenic spot.
The overhead rock wall was embedded with countless glowing pearls, and the perpetual fish lanterns around it made the place as bright as day.
Wang Xiaomei tucked the cumbersome hem of the ancient wedding dress into his waistband, rolled up his sleeves to his shoulders like an old man selling ice popsicles at the door, and stewed the black donkey hoofs in the alcohol pot by the river. The seasoning for the hoofs was also rummaged from a tomb raider's backpack.
The boiling water produced a gurgling sound and the spicy soup made Wang Xiaomei salivate and also feel a pain in his butthole.
"Fengjin, stop washing and come eat hot pot," Wang Xiaomei called out to the side.
Wen Fengjin tied up his long hair, and his clothes were also arranged like Wang Xiaomei's. The disorderly way of folding was instantly recognizable as being done by him. The former terrifyingly evil demon was now solemn and silent as he washed his clothes by the river.
Back then, believing the nonsense of his subordinate with a wooden brain, he had chosen the best fiery clothes and made several spare wedding clothes. However, as soon as Wang Xiaomei heard about the spare clothes, he refused to wear the ones on him and insisted on washing them clean.
"The clothes have been worn for a thousand years and you still don’t wash them?" Wang Xiaomei's obvious disdain made Wen Fengjin subconsciously swallow the words in his mouth.
In fact, these clothes do have a dust-proof effect.
However, in order to see Wang Xiaomei change clothes, he still offered the new clothes with a smiling face.
And the fact proved that being a rogue doesn't lead to a happy ending.
After changing into clean clothes, Wang Xiaomei handed the clothes to him and asked, "Big brother, can you wash clothes?"
Wen Fengjin: "..."
How could a man who once ruled the world and manipulated everything... but he really could!
Once upon a time, the poor young Wen Fengjin had indeed washed clothes himself, although it was a long time ago, he still remembered.
Looking at Wang Xiaomei's pitiful expression, Wen Fengjin nodded with a wooden face.
Finally, he was urged by the cheering Wang Xiaomei to fetch a wooden basin from the side hall and squat by the river to wash the clothes.
The arrogant demon lord was washing clothes while Wang Xiaomei murmured: I'll put the decorative dress racks in the side hall later, it'll be convenient for us to hang clothes... it'll become a laundry room.
Wen Fengjin:... that's not a clothes rack, it's a knife rack.
Hearing Wang Xiaomei's call, he looked at the redwood wash basin in front of him, quickly stood up and walked over, properly tidying the clothes before going over.
"Don't put the sleeves down! We still need to continue washing them later!" Wang Xiaomei quickly stopped him.
"..." Wen Fengjin looked at the unsightly sleeves and silently rolled them up again.
Two people dressed in ancient styles sat by the hot pot, creating a sense of absurdity and amusement.
It's like Tang Seng smoking on the roadside with his disciples while wearing monk robes.
As the aroma of the hot pot wafted through the air, Wang Xiaomei suddenly thought: Two big rice dumplings eating stewed donkey hoofs hot pot in a tomb? If a tomb raider appeared at this time, I don't know if they'd be shocked.
Tomb raiders are great, it'd be even better if they brought more donkey hoofs!
A few days ago, he couldn't have imagined that he would be having hot pot in his own tomb!
Upon smelling the pungent dish emitting hot steam and red blisters, Wen Fengjin fell silent for a moment before saying, "This thing looks like the cinnabar used by those alchemists in their elixirs. Can it actually be eaten?"
Wang Xiaomie handed him two clean canned food containers, saying as she served, "Don't worry, this stuff is delicious. Nowadays, people can't live without spicy food. Here, try it!"
Wang Xiaomie handed him the chopsticks and the dish, eagerly serving herself as well, paying no heed to the scalding heat as she stuffed it into her mouth.
The delicious taste of the food and the spicy sensation rushing to his head made Wang Xiaomie's mouth tingle and her eyes redden, but this long-lost flavor made her feel alive.
"Wow, this grave-robbed stuff is from Sichuan! So spicy, so spicy!" Wen Fengjin watched as Wang Xiaomie, with tears streaming from her eyes, continued to eat and talk. He held the can, staring at the pungent meat inside, and finally picked up a piece and put it in his mouth.
Watching Wen Fengjin, who had started off dignifiedly, gradually chewing and then his face turning red, and his nose wrinkling from the spiciness, and finally hurriedly swallowing it without any restraint, revealing a twisted expression on his slightly gentle and handsome face.
Wang Xiaomie, holding the bowl, looked at his face and burst out laughing, "So you can't eat spicy food, huh?"
Struggling to suppress the spiciness, Wen Fengjin furrowed his brow and said, "I've always loved sour food."
"I'm most afraid of eating sour things," Wang Xiaomie said. Soy sauce and vinegar were fine, but eating slightly sour fruits made her teeth ache. The two of them ate the tendons inside the donkey hooves, with steam rising.
As they ate, Wang Xiaomie said, "Even if I become a walking dead, I have no intention of leaving. I'll stay here with you. After all, I'm just an unloved child on the surface. If I die, my parents will probably just find some relative to give me some money for the funeral."
"Although I still have some doubts about what you said before, you are single, and so am I. Add to that, I'm not hiding anything from you: I'm gay. If you're honest with me, let's start as friends first. If it feels right, we can live together in the underground palace. So, you don't have to hide anything from me..."
"Recently, I've found myself becoming stranger and stranger, maybe it has something to do with you," she said all at once, but Wang Xiaomie didn't stop eating.
He was very nervous but also tried to create a relaxed atmosphere to test Wen Fengjin. After all, the other person was an 'old zongzi' who had lived for over a thousand years! What if he found out I was lying and accidentally bit me to death?
As for past lives and present lives, those memories that only spanned over twenty years had no convincing power for myself. Unless Wang Xiaomie one day found out that she truly regained her memory and was indeed called "Mian Deng," otherwise she would find it very difficult to turn into another person.
Wen Fengjin paused with the chopsticks in hand and looked at Wang Xiaomie.
Wang Xiaomie swallowed nervously.
After a moment of silence, Wen Fengjin's expression suddenly became dejected, and he pulled his mouth into a sad grimace and said, "I'm really happy that you want to stay with me. Trust me, I won't harm you, nothing bad has happened."
Wang Xiaomie furrowed his brow in suspicion, "You really haven't done anything?"
Wen Fengjin clenched his hand and lowered his head, his bound-up hair falling down to cover his cheeks. He said, "I haven't mistaken you, Mian Deng, it's you. I'm very clear that you are the person I've been waiting for."
"I've been waiting for you for so many years! How could I bear to harm you?"
His hoarse voice trembled slightly, as if he had cried.
Wang Xiaomie: "..." At this moment, I feel like a scumbag.