Chapter 18: From Disaster to Delicious

Before long, Yan Sen was called upstairs. Thomas banged on the door, calling out, "Don't worry, we're here to save you!"

Qin Li rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. Save me? From what? She had just taken a tumble and twisted her back—wasn't this a bit too dramatic?

Before she could even prepare herself, a loud bang reverberated through the air. The solid wooden door was kicked open, splinters flying everywhere, and two men charged in like it was a hostage rescue.

Qin Li froze, startled by the sudden commotion. It took her a second to realize how utterly ridiculous her situation looked. Sitting awkwardly on the floor, her legs spread out inelegantly, she was dressed only in her underwear. Pale thighs on full display, her disheveled hair a wild halo around her. And to make things worse, Yan Sen's sharp gaze casually swept over her chest and legs, making her let out a mortified yelp as she fumbled to grab her clothes and cover herself.

Yan Sen, seemingly unfazed, turned his attention to the door he had just destroyed, now hanging pathetically off its hinges. He shot Thomas a glare that could melt steel, silently accusing him of overreacting.

"What? She was screaming bloody murder! I thought she'd broken a leg or something!" Thomas said defensively.

"I didn't!" Qin Li hurriedly interjected. "I just twisted my back. I can stand."

She tried to rise but winced in pain. The sharp twinge in her waist forced her back down with a soft gasp.

Yan Sen assessed her for a moment before turning to Thomas. "I'll take her to the hospital."

"What? No!" Thomas protested. "The crew is coming this afternoon. You're the main character!"

"Reschedule." Yan Sen's tone was calm, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

"And upset the entire production team? No way!"

"Then cancel it." Yan Sen's blunt reply left Thomas momentarily speechless. He stomped his foot like an annoyed child but could do nothing to sway his brother.

Ignoring him, Yan Sen crouched in front of Qin Li and asked matter-of-factly, "Do you want to walk, or should I carry you?"

Qin Li blinked, thrown off by the unexpected question. Now? Of all times? She searched his face for any sign of mockery but found none—just his usual stern seriousness. After a moment of internal conflict, she swallowed her pride and muttered, "Carry me."

Yan Sen nodded and scooped her up effortlessly. At least it was a bridal carry, not some humiliating fireman's lift.

Pressed against his firm chest, Qin Li could feel the strength of his arms, the taut muscles beneath his shirt. It had been a long time since she'd been this close to a man, and her cheeks grew hot. She shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the intimacy.

"Don't move," Yan Sen warned, his voice calm but firm, his breath brushing her ear. Qin Li froze like a scolded child.

He carried her down to the car—a luxury SUV this time, not the infamous tractor.

"Why not the tractor?" she couldn't help but ask, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

"It's in for maintenance," Yan Sen replied without missing a beat.

"Even tractors need maintenance?" she teased weakly.

"A vehicle is a vehicle," he replied simply.

They arrived at a small town about twenty minutes later. The private orthopedic clinic was quiet, and the doctor quickly diagnosed her injury as minor, prescribing some massage oil and charging a hefty 100 euros for the visit.

"Should've just stayed home," Qin Li muttered under her breath, clutching the overpriced oil. Back in China, a simple patch would've done the trick.

Yan Sen didn't comment, just started the drive back.

When they returned, two new guests had arrived at the farmhouse—both women. Judging by their appearances and fashion choices, they seemed to be around Qin Li's age.

Thomas greeted them enthusiastically. "Finally! These are Linda and Gabby. They're also here for the matchmaking program."

Turning to the women, he introduced, "And this is my brother, Yan Sen, your... potential match."

Linda glanced at Qin Li with a raised eyebrow. "And her?"

"She's here for the same reason," Thomas said cheerfully, as though this weren't a completely insane situation. "Your competition."

Qin Li marveled at his audacity. Yan Sen wasn't some royal prince or a movie star. He was a farmer. A farmer! Yet somehow, Thomas had orchestrated this spectacle like it was The Bachelor.

Linda, unimpressed, rolled her eyes. "What makes your brother so special? Who does he think he is?"

Thomas grinned, completely unfazed. "He doesn't need to think he's special. The TV producers already decided he is. He's the male lead, and every good show needs supporting actresses. If you're not happy, you could always apply to be the female lead next season. Then you can have your pick of men!"

The sheer brazenness of his logic left Qin Li stunned. It was twisted, but damn if it didn't make sense.

Scoffing, Linda snapped, "A filthy farmer, huh? What a joke!" She didn't wait for the TV crew to arrive, stomping off in her heels.

As Linda passed by Qin Li, she paused deliberately, muttering with an exaggerated air, "What a peculiar pair of brothers. Who knows? They might be deranged killers. Staying here, I'd be worried about getting dismembered."

Gaby glanced nervously between Yan Sen and Thomas, seemingly spooked by Linda's parting comment. Moments later, she, too, made her exit, leaving Qin Li as the last woman standing.

Thomas snorted indignantly. "Hmph! Who cares what they think? Calling us stinky farmers—so what? City folks think they're so superior."

He simmered for a while, then turned to Yan Sen, who remained unbothered, his face as calm as a placid lake. "She called you a stinky farmer. Aren't you angry?"

Yan Sen's response was matter-of-fact. "Why get angry? I am a farmer. And if I skip a shower, well... I probably do stink."

Thomas stared, speechless.

Yan Sen turned his cool gaze to Qin Li. "They're gone. What about you? Are you leaving?"

Qin Li shook her head.

"Since you're staying," Yan Sen said evenly, "let's take this seriously and have a proper match."

Qin Li opened her mouth but found herself unsure of how to respond. Honestly, she did want to leave, but with no money and no real options, she had no choice but to wait for Qu Danni to arrive.

"Come inside. Breakfast."

Without another word, Yan Sen strode into the house. Thomas shot Qin Li a look—part curiosity, part mischief—before following his brother.

Qin Li glanced at her watch. It was already 10:30 a.m. Breakfast? More like brunch at this point.

Back in her room, she rummaged through her bag and stuck a pain relief patch on her lower back. By the time she returned downstairs, Thomas was waiting.

"Your back okay now?"

"Just a sprain. Doesn't hurt much anymore," she replied.

"Good."

Yan Sen emerged from the kitchen, balancing three empty plates. Placing one in front of each of them, he asked, "Hot or cold?"

Qin Li thought back to yesterday's so-called "hot" option—a cup of hot water—and hesitated. "What's the hot dish?"

"Carbonara," Yan Sen replied.

Qin Li's interest perked up. She used to enjoy carbonara with creamy sauce on pasta during her dates with Sun Yi at upscale restaurants. Surely a European country like Germany couldn't mess up Italian food, right?

She was so naïve.

What arrived at the table could only be described as a culinary disaster. The sauce was watery, with sad chunks of charred bacon floating in it like tiny, blackened islands. Qin Li took a tentative bite and immediately regretted it. The pasta was undercooked, the sauce was bland, and the bacon tasted like charcoal.

She glanced left, then right. To her astonishment, Yan Sen and Thomas were eating it with straight faces. Were they blind? Or just numb to the horror?

Unable to take another bite, Qin Li set her fork down with a sharp clang, drawing the attention of the two men.

"Something wrong?" Yan Sen asked.

She bit her tongue, suppressing the urge to rant. "Do you like it?"

"It's better than starving," Yan Sen replied with a shrug.

Thomas muttered under his breath, "In this house, you only get a say if you pitch in."

At that moment, Schrödinger, the aloof house cat, leapt onto the table and rubbed against Yan Sen. Qin Li pushed her plate toward the cat, hoping it might spare her from eating another bite. Schrödinger sniffed the pasta disdainfully, let out a single offended meow, and flicked its tail as it strutted away.

Even the cat thought it was garbage.

Two skipped meals had left Qin Li on the verge of starvation. If she didn't eat something soon, she'd keel over. Resolving to take matters into her own hands, she stood abruptly.

"Do you have eggs, flour, and tomato sauce?"

Yan Sen nodded.

"What are you doing?" Thomas asked, curious.

"Borrowing your kitchen. I'm making food that's actually edible."

"Finally!" Thomas exclaimed, but then, noticing his brother's glare, he quickly added, "Uh, I mean... cool."

Qin Li found the kitchen lacking in ingredients, with an overabundance of cheese, cured meats, and sausages. But she made do, pulling out two eggs and asking, "Mind if I use some butter and smoked meat?"

"Help yourself," Thomas said eagerly.

With practiced ease, Qin Li whipped up a batter, adding chopped scallions and milk for flavor. She melted a pat of butter in a pan, letting the rich aroma fill the room. Even Schrödinger returned, perching on the counter to watch her work.

Qin Li flipped the pancake mid-air with a confident flick of her wrist, drawing an audible gasp from Thomas.

She spread tomato sauce on the pancake, layered it with thin slices of smoked meat, and rolled it up tightly. Taking a bite, she savored the perfect balance of flavors: the buttery pancake, the savory meat, and the tangy tomato.

"This is just a simple breakfast dish," she said to herself, but after the traumatic meals she'd endured, it tasted like pure bliss.

Thomas was practically drooling. "What's it like? Is it good? Can I try?"

She cut off a small piece and handed it to him. He popped it into his mouth and froze, his face lighting up like he'd just discovered the meaning of life.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, so loudly that Qin Li jumped, her half-eaten pancake slipping from her fingers onto the table.

Before she could pick it up, a blur of fur and claws snatched it away. Schrödinger had struck, disappearing with her pancake as quickly as it had arrived.