Chapter 56 It’s Nothing
Chapter 56 It’s Nothing
C
+5 Free Coins
“Nothing. It’s nothing. What do you want for dinner?” Freya quickly pulled herself together and changed the subject.
“Anything’s fine. You decide,” Louis replied, taking a long drink of water. As he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed against his fair skin–ridiculously attractive. Freya immediately turned away. Louis was too dangerous. If she stared too long, she was afraid she’d get used to his looks and never be able to like anyone else again.
“Then I’ll make soup, okay? There’s still a lot of milk from this morning. I was originally going to fry some dumplings for tonight and have soup in the morning, but since you’re back, I’ll make it now.” Just thinking about the freshly made soup had her drooling–savory dumplings, assorted vegetables, a few drops of sesame oil, and some dried shrimp. One rich, steaming bowl–absolutely delicious.
Louis nodded, indifferent. “Okay. I’ll go work.”
Freya waved him off. “Go on, go on. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Once Louis returned to his room, she shifted her gaze back to the computer screen and caught a glimpse of her reflection— hair down and wild. Only then did Freya realize she’d been so focused on snacks, she’d completely forgotten to brush her hair. The woman in the reflection looked like a live–action version of Mei Chaofeng–nothing like her usual elegance or beauty. She looked downright deranged.
Suddenly, she understood the strange look Louis had given her earlier.
She bolted off the couch and dashed into the bathroom, grabbed a comb from the glass shelf, and started furiously brushing. Internally, she was pounding the floor in despair. Why did I let myself go like that? Had I never heard of Murphy’s Law? Now look- Louis saw her looking like that. Absolute humiliation.
And then she remembered how flawless Louis had looked–refined, aristocratic. Freya wanted to slam her head against the mirror.
Truth be told, Freya wasn’t someone who obsessed over her looks. In her past life, she’d gone out in cotton pajamas and unbrushed hair to buy groceries. But with Louis, it was different. He gave people the impression that if you didn’t look your best around him, you’d instantly look cheap–like dirt next to diamonds.
If your manners weren’t graceful enough, you’d feel downright low, vulgar even.
Freya had a strong suspicion that this was one reason Louis attracted so much resentment.
He spent his time around the powerful and wealthy–heirs raised in elite circles, people used to feeling superior around regular folks. Then along comes Louis, who didn’t even have to speak to make others feel small. Who wouldn’t be bitter?
Honestly, if Freya weren’t mentally strong, even she wouldn’t last under that kind of pressure. The original host hadn’t dared go after Louis precisely because she didn’t have the nerve.
Some people–just by standing there, saying nothing and doing nothing–became a scene in themselves. So striking, they made others feel ashamed and want to keep their distance, just to avoid being an eyesore.
And now, she was about to cook for that walking, talking scenic masterpiece. She had to do it well. And then she’d need to summon all her courage to ignore his charm and sit across from him at dinner like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Frying dumplings always filled the kitchen with grease. Freya tied her hair back behind her ears, watching the oil with laser focus. Her hands moved quickly and skillfully, placing dumpling after dumpling into the pan. The entire apartment soon filled with a mouthwatering aroma.
