Marry Me Quick novel Chapter 612

Chapter 612 His Dejectedness

Muchen raised an eyebrow in lieu of answering. He led her to a sink with his hand on her back and started washing her hands after placing the kitchen knife down. Ziyue was dumbfounded by his actions and was completely at his mercy.

"What are you doing?" Did he want to have ceviche? Why is he washing my hands? But it's been so long since he has done something so sweet for me.

Muchen wordlessly washed her hands and wiped them clean like he was caring for a child.

Ziyue's face was glowing red. She snatched her hands back the moment Muchen was done wiping them. Muchen did not react to her actions. He washed his hands, grabbed the knife, and stood before her with both arms raised.

Ziyue balked momentarily and realized that Muchen wanted her to put the apron on him.

Is he going to cook?

Ziyue took off her apron and tied it around Muchen.

Muchen lowered his gaze and looked at her as he stood still.

Ziyue wrapped her arms around his waist to tie a knot behind him. She did not retract her hands immediately but raised her head to look at Muchen. He was looking down at her deeply, and his gaze was captivating. Ziyue was shocked by his gaze; she quickly pulled her hands back as an indescribable feeling invaded her heart.

"What's wrong with you?" Ziyue asked after some hesitation.

Muchen's temper had been erratic recently. He would only be slightly better and gentler when she did something that pleased him. He had called her to tell her he wanted to have ceviche, but now he was going to cook. It had been a long time since she had last eaten his cooking and even longer since she had seen him cook. The image of him cooking was more entrancing than when he was working. More importantly, she was the only one who had ever seen him cook.

Muchen glanced at her and turned around to continue what she was doing; cutting onions.

Ziyue stayed in the kitchen and watched him prepare the ingredients. She placed both hands on the counter and tilted her head to look at his knife skills and, occasionally, his face.

When Muchen finished cutting the onions, he looked at her with a frown. "Don't be in the way."

A flash of annoyance went through Ziyue's eyes. She harrumphed and left the kitchen.

Muchen was stunned. Did she really leave?

Not long later, Ziyue returned with a chair. Sensing Muchen's eyes on her, she sweetly smiled at him and said, "I'll sit at the back and stay out of your way. Isn't it boring to cook by yourself? I'll keep you company…"

Her sweet smile and shining fair face dazzled Muchen's vision. He shifted his eyes away and continued with the dinner preparations.

Xiyi had said that Muchen had a mental disorder, yet he could remember the things and flavors Ziyue liked.

Ziyue thought Muchen was acting weirdly. Although he had not been paying her attention since he returned, she couldn't feel his anger. Instead, it was like he was lost.

It's like he is dejected. But why? Wasn't he out socializing?

Muchen had called to ask her to make ceviche when he was halfway through his social engagement. He took over when he returned and saw that she wasn't done. How he behaved made Ziyue reminisce about their time together in Yunzhou City.

Ziyue looked at his broad back as she sat behind him. "Did you not eat at the restaurant?" She was trying to make conversation.

"Yeah." Muchen finally responded to her. Although it was a simple reply, Ziyue was over the moon.

Muchen could feel her happiness even without turning around. A dark cloud shrouded his eyes as his eyebrows came together in a frown, and his hands slowed.

Ziyue did not know if she was overthinking. Still, it seemed like Muchen was deliberately preparing the food slower, as though he was dilly-dallying. Ziyue had suspicions but knew she wouldn't get any answers even if asked, so she did not bother.

His actions are out of the ordinary anyway.

Ziyue let her thoughts run rampant as she watched him but didn't forget to send Xiyi and Chuan a message informing them Muchen was back.

…

The following day, Ziyue received a call from Xiyi when she and Muchen arrived at the office.

Xiyi did not bother with pleasantries and got straight to the point. "I might have wrongly diagnosed Mr. Qin."

Ziyue was alert the moment she had it was something regarding Muchen. Her hands arranging a pile of documents stopped, and she asked, "What do you mean?"

She looked through the glass door at Muchen's table. He had gone to the toilets and wasn't back yet. After ensuring Muchen wouldn't be back for a while, she sat down and listened to Xiyi.

"It was my mistake. There isn't a history of this mental disorder in the Mogwin family." Xiyi's voice was calm. There wasn't a trace of an oddity.

"What?" Ziyue should have felt excited at this news, but instead, her suspicions intensified. She knew Muchen better than anyone else and was also aware of Xiyi's person. He was a person that lived by the book. So, he would only tell her Muchen's disorder was hereditary if he was eighty percent sure.

Why did he go back on his words after one night?

"Let's talk about this face to face." Ziyue wanted to meet him to resolve the bundle of doubt within her.

"Sure, I need to talk to Mr. Qin too. I'll be there in the afternoon," Xiyi agreed and hung up.

There wasn't anything off with Xiyi's attitude throughout the call, but Ziyue couldn't help feeling like something was going on.

'Knock, knock!'

A knuckle tapped twice on her desk and broke Ziyue out of her reverie. She lifted her head and saw Muchen before her.

"You're… you're back." Ziyue hurried to her feet.

She always felt as though Muchen could read her mind. So, she couldn't help but feel wary about her phone call with Xiyi even though Muchen did not say anything.

Muchen coldly glanced at her and pointed a long finger at a document. "I need that document immediately. Prepare and pass it to me as soon as possible."

"I'll do it right away." Ziyue quickly nodded her head in compliance.

Muchen turned to leave but suddenly turned back again, but Ziyue was focused on the document and did not see him. He stood stationary for a few seconds; his emotions were like turbulent waves in his irises.