Chapter 23

Theodore was having lunch with William, watching him morosely munch on peanuts, and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Serves you right! Never thought you'd see the day, huh?"

William really wanted to stuff Theodore's mouth with his own chubby cheeks to shut him up.

"Don't glare at me. I've got the scoop on your husband's whereabouts," Theodore said.

He handed William a piece of paper with a detailed schedule.

"Leaves at 7:30 AM, meeting at 8. If there's no lunch appointment, eats in the employee cafeteria at noon. Leaves work at 5:30 PM, home by 6 if there's no dinner appointment. Stays home once there. Last two days of the month, stays at the old house. If working late, stays at the office. A simple, almost monotonous life."

"No one's making moves on him. I checked his phone, talked to his secretary. Don't worry, even if he goes to some entertainment place for business, he mentions he's married and nothing shady happens. He always comes home, rarely stays out overnight unless he's on a business trip."

"He won't let me near him. I haven't even touched his hand," William lamented.

"Yesterday, we chatted and he only graced me with three words. He's like a block of ice. What kind of life is this?"

"Bro, he's still mad and hasn't gotten over it. You gotta sweet-talk him."

"I want to, but he doesn't give me a chance."

"I've never really pursued anyone. Usually, it's just a glance in a club and they're with me," Theodore said, clueless about such innocent romance.

"Don't compare your sleazy one-night stands to the genuine love between us," William retorted, despising the idea of physical intimacy without emotional connection.

"At least I get to touch them from head to toe. Dare you touch your husband?"

William was about to throw his bowl at Theodore, who was touching a nerve. Theodore laughed and begged for mercy.

"Let me search for some expert advice," Theodore said, pulling out his phone.

After a while, he found some reasons for divorce: lack of bedroom harmony, not giving money, having an affair.

"You're useless! We're not getting divorced. I'm trying to woo him, WOO, understand?"

"Oh, right, my bad," Theodore corrected his search.

"Be romantic, give flowers, rings, diamonds, designer bags, cars. Be a master chef. Be shameless, agree with everything, do anything, even wash his feet."

"Is this advice for pursuing women applicable to men?" William wondered.

"Men or women, we're all human. Who doesn't like romance, gifts, or someone who can cook and is tender and caring?"

"But I can't even touch his hand."

"That's because you're not smart about it. You know how I pick up girls? I say, 'Hey, gorgeous, let me read your palm.' Works every time. Then I say, 'Your life is missing me.' Give some gifts, call often, give a big gift on holidays or Valentine's, book a hotel, and you're in control."

William felt enlightened.

"I'm off to woo my husband," he said, heading to a café.

He bought pastries and hand-ground coffee and went to Brian's office.

The secretary was polite. "Mr Wang, what can I do for you? Brian hasn't returned yet."

"Give him these as afternoon tea," William said, handing over a delicate box with a light purple ribbon.

The secretary smiled apologetically. "Brian never eats sweets or drinks coffee. His stomach can't handle it."

William's enthusiasm deflated. He had come all excited, seeking approval, but Brian didn't even eat these things.

"When will he be back?" William asked.

"Not sure. He's out looking at properties today."

Dejected, William handed the treats to the secretary. "Girls love sweets. You have them."

He had bounced in but now dragged his feet as he left.

It's okay, William reassured himself. This wasn't a failure, just a small oversight. Now he knew Brian didn't eat sweets or drink coffee. He'd avoid them in the future.

On to the next plan.

Cooking.

This wouldn't be a problem for William. Before joining the army, he couldn't do much, but afterward, he had to learn everything. He had helped in the kitchen during the holidays and had to manage food during missions.

Donning an apron, he got to work in the kitchen he had never used before.

Everything was ready by the time Brian was supposed to get off work. William called to ask where he was so he could pick him up.

"I'm busy," was the curt reply before the call ended.

It was noisy in the background, probably something important. Okay, he's busy. William would wait.

At 6:30 PM, he called again.

"I just got into town."

"Don't eat out. I made dinner," William hurriedly said, fearing Brian would hang up.

"Okay."

Brian didn't refuse, so William waited.

And waited.

William was starving, and the food was getting cold. He paced the living room. Why wasn't Brian back yet?

Finally, the door opened. Brian was home.

"You're back! You must be starving. I made dinner. Wash your hands and let's eat," William greeted him enthusiastically.

Brian, one hand holding his laptop bag and the other a stack of files, looked up to see William's beaming face and felt his mood lift.

He took off his shoes and coat, and asked, "Are the mothers not here?"

"They went home. I told them we don't need an audience for our daily life," William replied.

Brian sighed in relief. Good, it would be more relaxed without them.

"Hurry and wash your hands. I'll warm up the food," William said.

As Brian rolled up his sleeves and headed to wash his hands, he could hear the sizzle and pop from the kitchen.

He expected a normal, warm family meal. Maybe some stir-fried pork, Kung Pao chicken, or tomato and egg soup. That would have been great. Even if it was salty, bland, burnt, or undercooked, he would have eaten it because William made it.

But when he sat down, he was at a loss for what to eat.

Spicy frog legs. A whole braised snake. Salt and pepper silkworm pupae. Fried crickets. And a pot of soup with scorpions floating in it.

The snake was whole, stir-fried with green onions, not cut into pieces. Its eyes, head, and tail were all visible.

And the scorpions, still moving in the soup, their tails hooking.

"Eat up, it's delicious. These are very nutritious, high in protein," William said, offering Brian a frog leg.

Brian felt his stomach churn.

"When we had survival training, catching a snake was a big deal. We couldn't make a fire, so we'd just peel it and eat it raw. Snake meat is tender. Try it," William said, offering Brian the tail of the snake.

"I can't eat this. I can't handle it," Brian said, holding back William's enthusiastic hand.

"You don't know what you're missing. I've eaten lizards and geckos, and they're not bad. Just try it," William insisted, now trying to feed Brian a cricket.

Brian stood up, clutching his bowl of rice. "I really can't. You enjoy it. I'll make some porridge."

He went to get hot water to turn his rice into porridge.

William blinked, his enthusiasm fading. He slammed his chopsticks on the table.