Chapter 16: Dinner Conversations

Hunger finally won over pride, and Qin Li followed the brothers downstairs for dinner. She didn't expect much—after all, the house was run by two men. Surely there'd be something warm to eat, at least? But as she reached the long dining table, her heart sank.

The spread was meager: bread, cheese, butter, sliced sausage, ham, and an assortment of fruit jams. Not a single hot dish in sight.

Qin Li frowned and asked, "Is there anything warm?"

Thomas, sitting casually at the table, raised an eyebrow and reached for a nearby kettle. He poured her a cup of hot water and slid it across the table with a flourish.

"There you go. Hot."

He then pulled a wooden box toward her, opened it to reveal rows of tea bags, and declared, "Pick your poison."

Qin Li blinked at the assortment of teas, caught between disbelief and amusement.

Thomas helped himself to a cup of coffee, then plopped down across from her, biting into a slice of black bread slathered with butter. "So," he began with a cheeky grin, "what do you think?"

"About what?" Qin Li asked, confused.

"My brother," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"He's… fine, I guess," Qin Li replied vaguely.

Thomas's grin widened. "So, you're interested?"

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "We just met. I barely know him."

Thomas leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. "My brother is thirty, divorced, no kids. Owns this farm, fifteen dairy cows, ten chickens, three geese, and a horse. Oh, and a cat. We both love animals."

"You seem to know a lot about him," Qin Li remarked, arching a brow.

"Of course," Thomas said proudly. "He's my brother. Ask me anything you want to know!"

"Fine," Qin Li said, crossing her arms. "What about you? Are you a farmer too? Here to find a wife?"

Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not a farmer. I'm a physicist. PhD, to be exact."

Qin Li's jaw dropped. She couldn't reconcile the image of this playful troublemaker with the title of Dr. Thomas.

"And for the record," Thomas added conspiratorially, leaning closer, "this whole matchmaking thing? Not my brother's idea. He didn't even sign up for it—I did it for him."

Qin Li stared at him, stunned. "You mean he doesn't actually want to find a wife?"

Thomas shrugged nonchalantly. "He doesn't know what he wants. I couldn't let him rot away here alone, so I signed him up myself. Thought I'd give him a little push."

As Thomas smirked, clearly pleased with himself, Qin Li sighed internally. No wonder Yan Sen acts so indifferent. He's practically been dragged into this.

"He's not exactly the talkative type," Qin Li muttered.

Thomas waved dismissively. "That's just him—cool on the outside, warm on the inside."

Cool on the outside, warm on the inside? More like grumpy and taciturn, Qin Li thought, but she didn't say it aloud. Instead, her mind wandered to the precarious towel from earlier. If anyone embodied the phrase cool and smoldering, it was Yan Sen.

At that moment, footsteps echoed on the stairs. Qin Li turned to see Yan Sen descending, finally dressed—well, sort of. He wore a loosely tied robe that did little to hide his muscular chest and defined collarbones.

Yan Sen took his seat at the table and glanced at her plate. Spotting the untouched food and abandoned slice of bread, he asked, "Not hungry?"

Qin Li forced a smile. "I'm fine." She couldn't exactly tell him she found the black bread inedible.

Yan Sen didn't press the issue and turned to his brother, switching to a dialect Qin Li couldn't quite follow.

Thomas leaned toward him, whispering something in a tone that could only be described as teasing.

Qin Li caught bits and pieces of their conversation:

Thomas: "What do you think of her?"

Yan Sen: "She's fine."

Thomas: "Are you going to keep her around?"

Yan Sen: "Whatever."

Thomas: "You don't seem very interested."

Yan Sen: "I'm not looking for a wife."

Thomas: "This one's different—she's Asian."

Yan Sen: "So?"

Thomas: "Cultural differences can be fun!"

Yan Sen didn't respond, but the slight twitch of his eyebrow suggested he wasn't thrilled.

Thomas, undeterred, grabbed a slice of cured meat from the table and bit into it, nodding appreciatively. "This is good. Where'd you get it?"

"I made it," Yan Sen replied.

Thomas's eyes widened. "Impressive. What kind of meat is this?"

"Wild boar," Yan Sen said matter-of-factly.

Thomas's face turned an alarming shade of green. Clutching his stomach, he bolted into the kitchen, retching loudly as he spat out everything he'd just eaten.

"What's wrong with him?" Qin Li asked, blinking in confusion.

"Nothing," Yan Sen replied calmly, as if his brother wasn't dry-heaving just a few feet away.

A furious voice echoed from the kitchen. "You KNOW I can't eat wild boar meat!"

Yan Sen's expression didn't waver. "I didn't know."

"You went hunting again, didn't you?"

"It's been a while since I practiced," Yan Sen admitted. "A boar was the best I could manage."

"You're a farmer, not a hunter! Why are you even hunting?"

From the kitchen, Thomas yanked open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of milk, and downed half of it in one go.

"That milk's fresh from this morning," Yan Sen commented, glancing at him. "I haven't pasteurized it yet."

Thomas patted his stomach nonchalantly. "I've been drinking it raw since I was a kid. My stomach can handle anything."

After dinner, Yan Sen set about cleaning the dishes, which was a process Qin Li could only describe as … chaotic. He filled the sink with water, dumped in a liberal amount of dish soap—enough to form a mountain of bubbles—and threw all the dishes in. Without scrubbing or rinsing, he fished the plates out moments later and wiped them dry with a dishcloth.

Qin Li's jaw dropped. "That's it? You're done?"

Yan Sen nodded, utterly unfazed.

"You didn't even rinse them?"

"Why bother? There's no grease on them," he replied matter-of-factly.

Qin Li's eyebrows shot up. "But they're covered in soap!"

"It's not toxic."

Her patience was wearing thin. "Then why bother drying them at all?"

"Wet dishes breed bacteria," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Qin Li opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. She inhaled deeply, muttering under her breath, Stay calm, stay calm.

Yan Sen finished his version of dishwashing and plopped down in the living room with Thomas, who had pulled out a video game controller. The two of them were soon immersed in a heated round of Warcraft 2.

Qin Li tried watching them for a while but quickly grew bored. With no signal and no internet, there wasn't much else to do. She trudged upstairs, crawled into bed, and fell into a restless sleep filled with bizarre dreams.

When morning finally came, Qin Li threw open the curtains and gasped.

The view outside was breathtaking. The Alpenglow cast a warm, golden light over the snow-capped peaks of the Alps, which stood majestically against a backdrop of brilliant blue skies. Below, lush greenery blanketed the mountainside, and a crystalline lake sparkled like a gem in the valley.

It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale—a paradise hidden from the rest of the world. Qin Li couldn't believe she was actually here.

She quickly grabbed her phone and snapped picture after picture, marveling at the beauty around her.

Her stomach grumbled, interrupting her reverie. Remembering she'd barely eaten the night before, she hurriedly got ready and headed downstairs.

To her surprise, Yan Sen was already outside, dressed in traditional Bavarian lederhosen, feeding the chickens. He scattered handfuls of feed across the ground, and the birds flapped and squawked as they scurried after him.

The sight was so comical Qin Li almost laughed out loud.

Yan Sen tossed the last of the feed and looked up, spotting her standing in the doorway. His lips twitched into what might have been a smile—at least by his standards.

"Good morning," he said, his tone still gruff but slightly less cold.

"Good morning," Qin Li replied automatically, intending to retreat back inside.

"Want to come with me to milk the cows?" he called after her.

Qin Li hesitated. She was hungry, but curiosity won out in the end. "Sure."

Yan Sen led her to a storage shed, where he grabbed six large wooden buckets. He handed her two of them.

Qin Li nearly dropped them. These are heavy even when they're empty! She struggled to lift one, finally resorting to carrying it with both hands.

Meanwhile, Yan Sen picked up the remaining four buckets—two in one hand, three in the other—and strode off like it was nothing.

Trailing behind him, Qin Li muttered to herself, "No wonder his arms are so muscular. These aren't workouts; they're survival skills."

As they approached the barn, the pungent aroma of manure and hay hit her like a freight train. She hesitated at the entrance, glancing down at her neatly pressed dress. This was definitely the wrong outfit for the occasion.

Yan Sen set his buckets down and grabbed a small stool. He gestured for her to bring over the bucket she was holding. Qin Li stumbled forward and practically dropped it at his feet, earning a sidelong glance from him.

Without a word, he got to work, expertly milking the cow with practiced ease. The rhythmic sound of milk hitting the bucket filled the air, punctuated occasionally by the low mooing of the cows.

Standing off to the side, Qin Li watched him, trying not to laugh at how absurdly surreal her life had become.