Breakup Kitchen - Chapter 1

The prosperity of City D begins in the evening, as streetlights are awakened by the night. Vehicles and people spill out onto the streets like water from an opened valve, crossing over the big bridge and then branching off to various locations. City D is traversed by a river, which divides this vast city in two. The area on the eastern side is the city center, while the western side has been newly developed in recent years, with buildings rising one after another, high-rises breaking ground from the silent land.

Gao Huimei is a part of this flowing water. Her rental place is located on the western side of the river, and each day she has to cross the river to work on the eastern side. 

— Fortunately, her workplace is not far from the riverbank.

Gao Huimei stepped out of the subway station. After walking less than five minutes, she first saw the night view of the riverbank in the distance and the bustling intersection. Soon, on her right appeared a nearly ten-story building emanating warm yellow light. It was a modernist-style structure, with walls alternating between brown and beige stone, and glass walls and windows embedded within, forming clean and sharp lines. An oval sign painted in blue-green hung above the building, elegantly engraved with the word "Massage."

Gao Huimei adjusted the collar of her lightweight coat; it was already autumn, and the wind by the river brought a chill. She sniffled and walked towards the entrance of the massage parlor. As the automatic door opened, the scent of lavender essential oil greeted her.

“Welcome! Would you like a body massage or a foot massage?” the receptionist asked with a smile, wearing a plain checkered, uniform-style outfit.

Gao Huimei felt puzzled and turned around, only to realize that a man was following her—a stranger. Understanding the situation, she nodded to the receptionist and walked straight to the hidden cabinet by the counter. After opening the cabinet door to clock in and placing her card back in its spot, she turned left towards the lounge.

The receptionist kindly explained the prices to the man, had him change into paper slippers, and then led him to a private room. As soon as the door was opened, warm light filled the space, and soft orchestral music could be faintly heard; beside the massage table were a dressing table and a wardrobe. The receptionist first asked the man whether he preferred a hot or cold drink, then requested him to change into a loose two-piece kimono, stating that a massage therapist would come by shortly to assist him.

Such a warm welcome is standard when visiting the massage parlor.

Massag, whose name comes from the French word for "massage," is a famous massage parlor in City D, located at an intersection on the eastern bank of the river, attracting the attention of passersby. This shop has been in operation for over twenty years, open 24 hours a day, year-round except for New Year's Eve and the first two days of the new year. Although all the massage therapists are female, their techniques are skilled, with strength that's both powerful and gentle, leaving customers feeling light and refreshed when they go home. Another feature is that the shop offers private room services, which protect the identity and privacy of the clients, making it popular among people of all ages and genders.

The eastern bank is well-known as a vibrant nightlife area in District 2 of City D, gathering various industries including KTVs, massage parlors, dance halls, bars, and restaurants. Therefore, Massag, located in this area, continues to attract business even in the middle of the night. It's no exaggeration to say that the real hustle begins after midnight, when it becomes nearly impossible to find an available room.

Massag operates in a mixed environment, naturally attracting envy from others due to its success. Some have attempted to emulate Massag's marketing strategies—employing attractive massage therapists in fitted uniforms, offering excellent techniques, providing private rooms, and using high-quality massage oils. However, most have ended up failing due to management issues or have shifted towards operating as part of the illicit sex industry.

Massag has built a solid reputation in City D, standing strong for over twenty years, thanks to its way of survival. While it is known for professional massages and cleanliness, the shop does not permit customers to take therapists out. However, due to catering to both male and female clients and being open late at night, it has inevitably faced police inspections. Initially, City D only allowed individuals with disabilities to work in the massage industry; regular people were not permitted. The founder of Massag faced considerable challenges in the early days and frequently encountered deliberate inspections under the guise of anti-prostitution efforts, having to visit the police station multiple times to provide statements. Apart from struggling for the freedom to operate, the priority was to avoid succumbing to any force's tyranny or threats; they were unwilling to bribe either the authorities or the underworld, knowing that such actions would lead to an endless abyss.

As societal norms evolved, the law restricting the industry was abolished. Massag has since built relationships with various figures, such as council members and police, attempting to strike a balance among different powers, maintaining an appropriately close yet distant relationship, and has managed to continue operating. This does not mean they have escaped late-night inspections; the frequency is comparable to other establishments, and whenever the patrol officers arrive, they still follow the inspection procedures.

§

Gao Huimei is a massage therapist at MoMassage. She came to D City four years ago and has been working at this store for almost four years. The company offers a decent salary; the earnings are split 60-40, with the therapist getting 60% and the company 40%. If a therapist's sales for the month exceed 100,000, the split changes to 70-30. This system, where one can earn more by taking on additional clients, is perfect for someone like Gao Huimei, who is burdened with heavy debts and in urgent need of money.

Ten years ago, Gao Huimei never imagined she would one day become a massage therapist, especially working the night shift from 9 PM to 5 AM. She used to be an office worker on a fixed salary, working the traditional 9-to-5 hours, and after work, she would go home to manage her household and take care of chores like cooking and grocery shopping. Four years ago, she got divorced, and carrying significant debt, she almost fled to D City, where she unexpectedly found this job that enabled her to repay her debts.

When Gao Huimei first started as a massage therapist, besides adjusting to the night shift's time change, the most difficult part was that her fingers often hurt so much that she had to ice them before applying heat and medication to alleviate the pain. She wore supportive gear on her wrists to relieve the pressure. It wasn't until calluses developed on her finger joints and she figured out how to apply force correctly that she began to adapt to this labor-intensive job.

After checking in at the time clock, she changed into her uniform and looked at her schedule at the front desk. 

"Shen Xin, are you waiting for Lao Dian later?" the front desk staff asked Gao Huimei. In massage parlors, they usually communicate using terminology, and each therapist has a number: Liu A, Wang, Zhe, Zhong, Shen Xin, Zhang, Ai, Tai, corresponding to Arabic numerals 1 to 10. 

"Yes, after I'm done, I'll continue waiting for Lao Dian," Gao Huimei replied. She chose number 67 when she first joined the company because she thought "Shen Xin" sounded very "worry-free." She's not sure if it’s a result of the law of attraction, but after being called "Shen Xin" for so long, the clients she has encountered over the years have indeed been quite "worry-free," rarely running into difficult customers. 

— Qian Ge is one of those "worry-free" clients.

Qian Ge is a regular at Massage. He used to work at a television station and is now a producer for an online show. He often visits the shop around one or two in the morning and rarely requests a specific masseur, usually letting the front desk assign the on-duty therapist. Once, he had a massage from Gao Huimei and really liked her technique and strength. Since they got along well, he eventually became a regular customer of hers.

"Are you talking about me? Going on a show?" Gao Huimei asked, bringing her index and middle fingers together and making circles a few times at Qian's Ge temples, applying pressure before moving around below the eyes and along the bridge of the nose, pressing a couple of times between the brows.

"Yes, it's our new show called 'Breakup Kitchen,'" Qian Ge explained with a smile, lying on the pillow with his eyes closed. "There will be six episodes in total, where we invite a main guest and then their rival, and the two will 'chat' while cooking, making it a healing growth-type program."

Gao Huimei couldn't help but interject, "…Isn't that more like arguing than chatting?"

Qian Ge laughed heartily and then said, "You could say that, but it depends on the guests and their fortunes. After all, the purpose of our show is 'either to happily reconcile or to further fall apart,' the more lively, the better!" 

Qian Ge added with a smile, "Our show aims to let the two people who have fallen out discuss the crux of their relationship, but the show's planners think it's just too uncomfortable and uninteresting to have the two of them argue directly." 

Gao Huimei asked, "Do you want to make the interaction interesting through cooking?" 

Inside, she felt uneasy. To be honest, she had never believed she was cut out for the kitchen—her family and ex-husband had teased her as the 'kitchen terminator.' 

"What is an essential element of life? It's 'eating.' What household chores easily lead to family discord? It's nothing but cleaning, laundry, cooking, and washing dishes." Qian Ge opened his right eye to glance at Gao Huimei, observing her reaction, and said, "We want to use this forced interaction—cooking—to observe the traces of their love or rupture. Even if they do end up arguing, having the cooking competition as a mediating role makes for a better resolution than just a direct argument." 

"… Aren't you afraid that they might resort to picking up a kitchen knife to attack each other?" 

Qian Ge was taken aback and gave a dry laugh, "Ahem, if that really happens, the viewership rate is guaranteed. The show has insurance for everyone, so there's no need to worry too much about medical expenses." 

Under this almost darkly humorous statement, the atmosphere suddenly stilled for a moment. Qian Ge was pondering how to explain himself, while Gao Huimei was increasingly apprehensive. 

Qian Ge spoke again. 

"Well, if I really have to say, there's a personal interest in this design." 

"Personal interest?" 

"The most challenging issue for people has always been communication," Qian Ge said with a smile, his eyes crinkling and the crow's feet blending with the hard angles of his face, "so I want to see what kinds of possibilities and changes this method of communication might bring."

Gao Hui-mei was silent for a moment, but her hands continued to move: she gently supported Qian Ge's head with one hand while placing the other under his neck, then relaxed the muscles in the back of his neck with one-handed pulling and pushing motions. 

"Why did you want to invite me on the show?" she asked. 

Qian Ge replied with his eyes closed, "A-Mei, I’ve known you for a long time; I have some understanding of your situation." 

"But my profession..." 

"That's precisely why you should come on the show," Qian Ge opened his eyes and rolled over to lie face down, following Gao Hui-mei's guidance. "My team and I have discussed it; your profession might not be well understood by everyone, but we can use this opportunity to break stereotypes. I understand your concerns; don’t worry, we won’t reveal the name of your business, and you can use a pseudonym on the show." With his left cheek pressed against the pillow, he mumbled, "Also, the planning and directing team of our show believes that your story can resonate with the public." 

Gao Hui-mei understood what Qian Ge meant: her story had the potential to attract attention. 

"The fee for the appearance is like this," Qian Ge extended his index finger and thumb to show a seven, and Gao Hui-mei widened her eyes in surprise. Qian Ge added, "If the show's ratings hit the top five during the broadcast period, we’ll give you a bonus." He smiled, "If you’re interested, we can find a time to sign the contract." 

Gao Hui-mei was truly confused; how could something this good exist? Seeing her attitude soften, Qian Ge struck while the iron was hot: "Oh, I forgot to mention... since the show will invite people who know the main guest but don’t get along, can you guess who we’ll be inviting?" 

Gao Hui-mei was genuinely at a loss; there weren’t many people she could call "enemies." "A relative? Or a debt collection agency?" she guessed aimlessly, her head full of question marks. 

Qian Ge rolled his eyes at her answer and replied irritably, "Miss, please don’t underestimate the level of our show, okay? Here’s a hint: it’s someone who makes you work day and night to pay off debts." 

Gao Hui-mei's expression suddenly fell; it could only be one person. 

"A-Bai? My ex-husband?" 

"Who else could it be?" 

"Really? That bastard?" 

Qian Ge sighed, "…It couldn’t be more real." 

If Gao Hui-mei was surprised by the fee, she was now genuinely frightened. "How did you find him? Your show really runs deep." She almost blurted out the words "illegal transaction"—just think about it; the person she had wanted to find for years could be located by participating in a show? 

"Enough with the rambling. One question: are you in or out?" 

"I'm in! Of course," Gao Hui-mei gritted her teeth and said, "How could I not be?"

§

 A couple of cameras surrounded Gao Huimei, each lens pointing at her while the director called from behind, "Five, four, three, two, one, action!" Gao Huimei sat in front of a green screen, her hair and makeup done, looking quite energetic, though her expression seemed a bit unfavorable.

The assistant director felt something was off but proceeded as planned. He questioned from behind the camera, "What is your relationship with Li Shanbai?" The question would be expressed in subtitles during post-production, so the assistant director's audio wouldn't be recorded.

"He is my ex-husband, a debtor, no," Gao Huimei tugged at the corner of her mouth and replied coldly, "To be precise, it's 'enemy, person'!" The assistant director wiped sweat from his brow and asked the next question, "Please describe your view of him in three words."

Gao Huimei smiled without mirth, "Gigolo, gambler, good-for-nothing, son of a turtle..." The assistant director hurriedly signaled for a pause to avoid losing control, fearing they might get a yellow mark for the content. "Alright, next question: What is the reason for your feud with him?"

Gao Huimei paused, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Ignoring the strange feeling inside her, she began to recount her usual description of her failed marriage. Lowering her gaze, she slowly spoke, "He gambled all night, ignoring the family. During that time, I tried to discuss and salvage our relationship, and we even had big fights, but marriage can't be forced. Plus, the debts were just too enormous; we had no choice but to divorce."

She didn't mention that Li Shanbai agreed to the divorce in exchange for her taking on the debt. Gao Huimei always felt that discussing such things privately was enough; saying it openly like this would make her appear too pitiful, which she didn't want.

Noticing that the atmosphere had grown heavy, the assistant director steeled himself to ask, "If Li Shanbai were in front of you, what would you want to say to him?"

Gao Huimei raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you want to ask this question?"

The assistant director nodded resolutely, "…Sure." After all, no matter what she said, it could be muted in post-production, right?

“Alright, Li Shanbai, listen up,” Gao Huimei smiled brightly before the next moment saying, “I go your Li Shanbai beep—beep—beep—beep—beep—”

§

“I beep—your Li Shanbai beep—beep—beep—beep—beep—”

At the same time, in a different room across the same set, the director's assistant watched the live feed with trembling nerves, too afraid to glance at the expression of the man beside him. The assistant sneaked over to the other side to call the director: "Boss, are you sure you want to record Mr. Li's pre-show interview now?" After he saw Ms. Gao cursing him on her live show?

The program production really could be deadly. Why would they put an ex-husband and ex-wife on the same show and even suggest that the ex-husband watch the ex-wife speak ill of him live?

"Of course! Our show needs to create an impact; otherwise, how would we have topics to discuss? Even the footage of you calling me right now could get edited in," the director said, lounging with his legs crossed, calmly watching the surveillance footage that showed the assistant director huddled in a corner with his phone, facing away from the other person in the room. "We’ll go over in a bit for the interview, so get ready."

The assistant inwardly flipped the director off, feeling a mix of indignation and despair: "What more preparation is needed? Am I supposed to light a candle and incense for myself?"

After hanging up, the assistant first made the sign of the cross, seeking divine intervention from Father Jesus, then pressed his palms together in prayer to the Earth God, Mazu, and Guanyin. After muttering prayers to the deities, he realized that he couldn't delay any longer. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and trembled as he turned around.

“Ah!” The assistant secretly opened one eye only to be startled by the face coming close to him. “Oh, Mr. Li, it's you. You scared me!”

Li Shanbai straightened up, took a few steps back, and apologized, “Sorry, sorry. I thought you looked a bit uncomfortable against the wall. Are you feeling better now?”

Not considering who had just been radiating an almost freezing low pressure... the assistant grumbled inwardly. He looked up, “I was just confirming the filming progress with the director. He said it will be Mr. Li's turn for the interview in five minutes.”

Li Shanbai actually had rather a charismatic appearance, with fair features, double eyelids, a straight nose, plump lips, and a smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. His eyes were deep-set, and after being groomed by the stylist, he looked like an attractive leading man.

“I see...” Li Shanbai smiled, his smile dazzling enough to momentarily blind the assistant, “Then can I suggest to the director that we add this question to the interview later?”

§

Gao Huimei knew that Li Shanbai would act in front of the camera, but she didn't expect him to be so convincing.

Her encounter with Li Shanbai during the interview was entirely by chance. After completing her commentary on Li Shanbai, Gao Huimei felt a bit anxious. Thinking about the formal recording that would start soon, she couldn't sit still in the waiting area. She stepped out to get some air and aimlessly wandered to the shooting location.

Li Shanbai was seated on a high stool, with a green screen behind him, while the director spoke with him off-camera.

Li Shanbai glanced toward the assistant director for a moment before grinning and replying, “Ah... Mei Mei and I were classmates in high school. She was in Class One and did really well, while I was in Class Five. Our classrooms were in different buildings, but they were directly opposite each other, so we could see each other’s classes by opening the windows...”

Hearing the name "Mei Mei" come from Li Shanbai's lips, Gao Huimei paused in her steps, turned around, crossed her arms, and stood behind the staff, watching Li Shanbai being interviewed.

The assistant director seemed to have moved on to the next question, and Li Shanbai's topic shifted to discussing his current work. Gao Huimei lowered her eyes, fiddling with her fingers. As Li Shanbai's voice began to fade, a brief vibration pulled her back, very short, just like that. She took out her phone; the screen displayed a message from her colleague Wang Hao, asking if she wanted to wait at the office together tomorrow.

Gao Huimei scrolled and replied, holding the phone under her chin, ready to put it away when a second vibration startled her. Wang Hao sent another message: "67, can I stay at your place for a day tonight? I know this is sudden, but I don’t know what to do right now. Just for a day..."

Gao Huimei was taken aback and quickly replied, arranging a time. Hesitating for a moment, she

The staff in front saw Gao Huimei standing at the back and quickly came over to inform her that the official filming was about to start in five minutes, asking her to return to the lounge to touch up her makeup and hair. Gao Huimei could only glance over that string of messages and told Wang Hao that they would talk later.

When Gao Huimei walked back to the lounge, she noticed the director had Li Shanbai change his seating position. His voice was still as sticky as it was in her nightmares. She ignored the suffocating feeling in her heart, but several key phrases from Wang Hao's message weighed heavily on her, making her just want to take deep breaths: injury assessment, borrowing money, cheating.

“For this program, I want to find Meimei,” Li Shanbai said.

In that moment, Gao Huimei's gaze met Li Shanbai's outside the filming area. He didn’t freeze; instead, he continued to speak fluently. His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds, blinked, and then shifted away, as if their brief eye contact was merely a result of his casual glance. Gao Huimei turned her gaze away expressionlessly and continued walking, but Li Shanbai's voice followed her.

Gao Huimei did not stop.

“Meimei, I'm sorry. I was wrong.”

But his expression did not convey that he was wrong.

§

“‘It's either joyous reconciliation or further discord.’” After the director called action, the host walked between Gao Huimei and Li Shanbai. “Hello, everyone! Welcome to ‘Breakup Kitchen’! I’m your host, Xiaochun. The two main guests we invited this season are—”

The program team was filming in a well-known cooking classroom in City D. The classroom was about 50 ping in size, set up with eleven L-shaped cooking tables. Ten of those tables were arranged in two parallel rows of five, spaced two to three meters apart, while the remaining table was positioned right in the center at the front of these tables, typically used for demonstrations by the instructor. The production team chose two of the tables from the first row, where the finished products would be placed for filming; between the two rows of tables, they set a small wooden table stocked with kitchen utensils, ingredients, and seasonings.

Standing next to the small wooden table, Gao Huimei looked forward. Behind the demonstration table, the program staff had set up cameras, lights, reflectors, and audio equipment. Positioned in backlight, Gao Huimei could only see countless shadows moving back and forth, vaguely perceiving the director nodding and talking to other staff.

After the host's introduction, cheerful electronic keyboard music played, accompanied by a gentle beat, marking the start of the show.

“To my left is Gao Huimei, Meimei; to my right is Li Shanbai, Abai. Welcome!”

Gao Huimei blinked against the white lights, while the background music shifted to relaxed lo-fi tunes.

She licked her lips, “Hello everyone, I’m Gao Huimei; just call me Meimei.”

Li Shanbai stood beside her, an arm's width away.

Li Shanbai waved at the camera, a bright smile on his face, “Hi everyone, I’m Abai, Li Shanbai.”

After the two finished their introductions, Xiaochun said, “After the previous interviews, I believe everyone knows about the relationship between Meimei and Abai—ex-husband and ex-wife. This time, we will have this couple...... Oh no, this man and woman cook a specified dish together.” She then directed the question to the person on the right, “Abai, do you get nervous when cooking? Do you have confidence in your culinary skills?”

“Of course—” Li Shanbai glanced at Gao Huimei. She didn’t notice his scrutiny and remained focused ahead. He turned his gaze back and waved his hand, answering, “I’m not nervous. Honestly, I have a lot of confidence in my cooking skills; I used to be the one who cooked. Right, Meimei?”

Gao Huimei calmly replied, “Yes, but I’ve forgotten the taste a bit.” She pretended to ponder for a moment. “Oh, I remember now, the first time you cooked, you used sugar instead of salt, and the whole dish was super sweet. You even forced me to eat it.”

Xiaochun asked, “Oh dear, did you finish the whole plate?”

Ignoring Li Shanbai's strange expression, Gao Huimei shrugged, “Indeed. I ended up with an upset stomach and had to lie in bed for a day.”

What had originally been a funny story from their time together now felt like a painful memory. Each time they discussed it, it was laughed off, no one caring for those seemingly petty details, treating them lightly;

 **Smack.**

Underneath Gao Huimei's right palm is an iron pot, the cookware matching the theme of this event. Just moments ago, she had already reached for the cutting board and the kitchen knife, essentially scoring all the points in that category. She noticed the hand stacked over her right hand, whiter than her own skin tone, so pale that she could see the bluish veins beneath. Without hesitation, she slapped it away and smiled at the person across from her, saying, "Sorry, Mr. Li, looks like I've grabbed the iron pot first again."

Li Shanbai smiled, "Not at all, I should thank Miss Gao for being so 'merciful'." He raised his left hand to touch his reddened right hand, then feigned surprise as he said, "Sorry, I didn't realize I still had ingredients in my hand." Turning around, he placed the items on the stove, and once everything was set, he quickly turned to head toward the wooden table.

Gao Huimei glanced at Li Shanbai's left hand and clicked her tongue inwardly; during her dash for the kitchen knife, Li Shanbai had already grabbed the eggs first.

In the next round, it was almost as if wherever Li Shanbai reached, Gao Huimei would always be a second faster to touch that item. Once could be a coincidence, but two or three times…

— Surely it can’t just be luck? Li Shanbai suppressed his frustration, trying to maintain a smile. He glanced at the camera and shifted his body to the side, positioning himself so that his face and hands wouldn't be directly facing the lens.

Seeing the olive oil, he reached for the bottle; sure enough, Gao Huimei was a step ahead and touched the bottle first.

What kind of speed and reaction is this? Though Li Shanbai knew that Gao Huimei had great motor reflexes, he didn’t expect her responses to still be this quick after so many years. This time, he didn’t pull his hand back; he held on to the other side of the oil bottle, refusing to let go.

Gao Huimei looked at Li Shanbai in surprise, still gripping the bottle neck, pulling it toward her direction; feeling the tug from the olive oil bottle, Li Shanbai also attempted to bring the bottle closer to himself. The bottle went back and forth between the two of them.

 Li Shanbai struggled to pull the olive oil toward himself, but he could no longer tolerate the disruptive behavior. He lowered his body slightly toward Gao Huimei and said through clenched teeth, word by word, "Hey, hey, hey Gao Huimei, your actions are misleading. Why is it that whatever direction I reach my hand, you can grab it?" He tried to maintain his composure, "Did I not 'yield' to you a few times just now? You’re not going to snatch that too, are you?"

Li Shanbai exerted more force to pull the bottle toward him, whispering almost inaudibly, "Can a person really be this uncouth? Huh?"

Gao Huimei widened her eyes.

Huh? What is he talking about?

With a sarcastic smile, she quietly retaliated, "Li Shanbai, don’t think just because we’re being filmed I won’t dare to do anything to you. Are you still not taught enough from what happened in the restroom?"

Upon hearing those keywords, Li Shanbai felt a throbbing pain beneath the thick layer of makeup on his face, and he could still feel the imprint of Gao Huimei's foot on the top of his foot.

This all happened when Li Shanbai had just finished a special interview and went to the restroom.

After finishing up in the men’s restroom and getting ready to pull up his pants, he caught a glimpse of a long-haired woman standing beside the urinal compartment, nearly causing him to pee himself. After silently cursing for a few seconds, he focused and realized—it was none other than Gao Huimei, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time!

"Hi, Li Shanbai, we have some unfinished business from a long time ago. Now that you definitely have time, let’s take it slow and sort this out," Gao Huimei leaned against the partition, greeting him while he had his hand still on his zipper.

Shocked, Li Shanbai’s mind went blank, his vision blurred, and then he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, his arms and shoulders went numb, and then his cheek was squeezed and pulled. He fell back on the floor, glaring at Gao Huimei’s high heels as they rested in front of his pants.

“Wait… wait, did you just hit me? Be careful, or I’ll go get checked for injuries!” Li Shanbai was baffled; Gao Huimei had only pressed a few spots with what didn’t seem like much force, yet he felt like he couldn’t handle the pain.

“I didn’t hit you; it’s just that your body is too weak. Looks like you've been living quite nicely these past few years?” Gao Huimei squatted in front of him, shaking her fingers innocently, a look of faux innocence on her face. “I was just helping out an old friend by relieving some tension and pressing a few pressure points; you should be grateful for the free massage, you know?”

Excluding the pain in his abdomen and cheek, he thought it was a bit excessive for her to say he was overreacting just because she pressed a few points harder than usual.

Rolling her eyes, she continued, “Go ahead and check for injuries if you want, but I doubt anything will show up. You’ll know once you examine yourself.”

Gao Huimei stood up and walked toward the restroom door, stepping on Li Shanbai's left foot as she passed him. She turned back to him, feigning an apology with a smile, “Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your foot. Hope you won’t mind.”

“I can’t feel your apology…” Li Shanbai could only muster a weak sarcastic remark, squatting down and hugging his knees, his pants still sagging loosely at his waist.

Ignoring Li Shanbai’s whining, Gao Huimei continued, “Oh, I forgot to say, I hope we enjoy our collaboration on the show! See you later.” With that, she left, not caring about his reaction, and went to touch up her makeup.

Li Shanbai watched as Gao Huimei reached for his hand holding the bottle, panicking and loosening his grip. Gao Huimei seized the opportunity to snatch the bottle away.

Seeing the two of them stuck in a standoff at the wooden table, Xiao Chun interjected, “Please don’t just fight over things, you both still need to complete your assigned dish. If you don’t finish within the time limit, you’ll lose the chance to get the gold ingot. Now,” she glanced at the time, “there are still thirty minutes left.”

Both of them were startled and began to move: Gao Huimei went to the cooking desk, grabbing some ingredients still on the table that she felt might be useful; Li Shanbai walked around the wooden table,