Love Late - Volume 01 by Volume 01

Author:Volume 01 [Unknown][Unknown]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

7

Love Late vol.1 - ch7

3/15/14: minor edit

Love Late Vol. 1 NSFW warning

Chapter seven finally! For those who don't follow my other blogs, I updated the translation for part one of the drama, filling missing translations and fixing mistakes.

Chapter Seven

I didn't think that Ke Luo would really come the next day just because he had said so.

When I slept with pretty boys, I’d be in high spirits and would always say I’d pluck the moon for them.

I had gotten fed up of eating so much of the food yesterday that I lost interest in those takeouts with the same old taste and suddenly began to miss the taste of home cooking.

When I came across the supermarket, I went in and picked up some groceries. It had been so long since I’d bought grocery food. I had no idea what side dishes to pick. I looked east and west. Anything that I may possibly use, I bought. In the end, I carried two very large bags.

Back home, as I crammed them into the fridge, I felt a bit troubled. I currently couldn't afford to hire someone. If I wanted to eat, I could only make it myself. So I crouched down in front of the fridge, racking my brain for recipes.

Don’t look down on me. Of course I can cook. I wasn't a young master born with a silver spoon in his mouth. There’s no sense that I wouldn't know the basic survival skills. I just had no interest in it. Cooking is a survival instinct for when there’s no money to eat out. There’s nothing fun about it. A rancid smell rose from the hands I had used to cut the meat. Smelling it made me uncomfortable. Although I had washed my hands several times, I couldn't disperse that smell. And when I wanted to stir-fry green peppers, I couldn't decide for a while how many I should put and whether I needed ginger and scallions.

The shrimps jumped about wildly in the bag. Leaked water dripped down the table, making the kitchen floor wet and tempting me to kill them quickly. But I hadn't figured out what to do with them.

I blindly prepared some side dishes and didn't pay any particular attention to whether they looked good or not. Placing the pan, I waited until it was hot to pour some oil. After the oil heated up, I threw every bits and pieces in. Then when it crackled, I hastily began stir-frying.

Hearing the noise from the pan made me panic. Because the hot peppers and garlic were overcooked, the kitchen filled with smoke. The kitchen exhaust hood was useless.

I’m a man whose body should emit the smell of decent cologne or the faint smell of cigarette smoke, not a man who would make people recall from a sniff green pepper and shredded meat.

So I had come prepared to guard against the invasion of the smoke odor by wearing an old bathrobe that I would later change out of and a shower cap on my head.

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