Hi again!
Here a new one-shot!
I hope you'll enjoy it (and there are no too many mistakes)
I don't know why but today it's impossible to download pictures so here a video to explain how to cook sweet and sour pork ribs! Good appetite!
What happened to the nineteen catering dishes left?
Everything in the room seemed to be frozen. Her hair, her face and a part of her clothes were covered with sweet and sour pork ribs and rice. Shancai stared right in his eyes – and it was almost unbearable.
Shaking with fury, she looked at him, without a word, her eyes expressing a thousand feelings like anger, humiliation, challenge, and hatred. Her eyes were already big but they seemed so huge at that moment, wet with tears, making her even more fascinating.
His heart was racing without knowing why. Daoming Si looked away, couldn't bear to look at her anymore. For the first time in his life, he felt infinitely guilty, he hated himself for what he just had done, for the state in which she was because of him.
Then there was something else – her eyes. He wanted to hug her, to press her against him, to beg her for her pardon until all her anger and her tears disappeared. He wanted to erase all the damage he had just done, to protect her. All these feelings oppressed his chest and it was hard for him to breath.
He took a deep breath and, his back still turned, burst out: "You insulted me first."
Silence.
"You deserve it."
Still this silence. He still couldn't look at her. Then he heard her footsteps going away and he turned back to see her running away in the stairs, disappearing.
He had this deep urge to run after her, to catch her up, to take her arm, her hand and to tell her – to tell her what exactly?
What could I tell her?
What do I want to tell her?
Honestly, he hadn't a clue but he wanted to erase this feeling rooted in him, that feeling which hurts him!
But how?
And why am I not able to move? Why can't I move?
The time he managed to come around, he realized that Shancai was surely already riding her bike and might be far away. His legs weakening, he held back on the billiard table and collapsed on the first smashed armchair he found.
What was wrong with him?
He saw, laying on the floor, the remains of the dish he threw at her face.
A real mess.
It looks tasteful by the way.
He dropped his head in his hands. He felt bad again, very bad, worse than ever and he tried to forget Shancai's stare before she disappeared in the stairs.
He looked again at the nineteen catering dishes left. He stood up and came nearer to the piled-up boxes. He grabbed one of them and opened it. Immediately a delicious smell tickled his nostrils and he couldn't help but smile.
Delicious, without a doubt.
When he thought about the "delicious" word, Shancai's face popped up in his mind and he tried to get it out. He turned again toward the nineteen catering dishes. He couldn't waste all that food, could he? He would gladly eat some of them but – he hadn't chopsticks nor forks! He thought for a moment then had an idea. He hastily took his phone and called the first number he saw on the screen.
