Chapter 1206: Motorcycle

Chapter 1206: Motorcycle

Chen Xi eyed the delicate little cakes he had just brought back from a high-end patisserie—each one immaculately packaged—and gave Su Li a look that was half exasperated, half amused.

“I didn’t even know Gu Zi could bake,” he said with a chuckle. “Is there anything she can’t do? But listen, this cake is from a master pâtissier. I queued for it, you know. I doubt even Gu Zi’s baking can top this. Come try a piece.”

With that, Chen Xi strolled into the center lounge, settled into one of the plush armchairs, and opened the box. The sweet scent wafted out, but Su Li wrinkled his nose.

“Chen Xi, I’m telling you—my mom’s cakes are way better than anything you can buy outside,” he declared proudly. “Just wait. Next time we make some at home, I’ll invite you over. You’ll see. As for this one… I really don’t want to eat it.”

Beside him, Su Bing nodded solemnly. “We weren’t planning to eat anyway. We just wanted to help in the kitchen. We’re not hungry.”

He had grown up shadowing his mother in the kitchen, picking up bits and pieces of her culinary craft. But ever since she left and he came to live with the Chen family, he hadn’t had the chance to step into a kitchen, and he missed it—missed it enough that his hands were itching to get chopping again.

Chen Xi gave them both a sympathetic glance. Poor kids, he thought. They must really be missing their family if even cake can’t tempt them.

He took a bite himself. “It’s actually really good,” he admitted with his mouth full. “I get their cakes all the time. But hey, I’m not going to force you. You two go play. What would a couple of kids know about cooking anyway?”

“I can cook,” Su Bing insisted. “I’ll prove it to you, Chen Xi. Come on, Su Li, you’re helping me.”

And with that, the older boy marched into the kitchen, his little brother trailing behind him like a tiny sous-chef. Chen Xi watched them go, amused.

What could two young boys possibly cook that was worth eating? he thought skeptically.

…

By dinnertime, Chen Xi arrived at the table expecting the worst, especially since his brother and sister-in-law weren’t home that evening. It was just him and the three children. But the moment he saw the dishes—plated like fine art, with colors and arrangement worthy of a glossy lifestyle magazine—he paused.

Su Bing was just coming in from the garden with little Su Le when Chen Xi raised an eyebrow and teased, “See? I told you, nothing good could come from letting you kids into the kitchen. Just play next time, alright? No need to risk bumps and burns.”

Before Su Bing could defend himself, one of the housemaids interjected, smiling brightly.

“Second Young Master, half of the dishes tonight were prepared by Young Master Su Bing. He’s really talented. Even our head chef said so! You should try the stir-fried lotus root with pork, the cashew shrimp, and the pickled cabbage and tofu fish soup. All his work!”

Chen Xi’s eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at the food again—that plating? From a ten-year-old?

And then, the ever-eager Su Li piped up from the side, tugging on the maid’s sleeve. “You forgot me! I helped too!”

“Oh, of course you did, Young Master Su Li,” the maid said quickly with a laugh. “You were a wonderful assistant! Second Young Master, just try them. You’ll be amazed.”

Intrigued now, Chen Xi picked up his chopsticks and tried the pork first. Tender, perfectly seasoned, with a light crisp at the edges—it practically melted in his mouth.

Then he took a bite of lotus root, crisp and slightly sweet. One bite turned into another, and another, until he found himself piling shrimp onto his plate and ladling a full bowl of the soup.

The shrimp was springy and fresh, the fish broth tangy and soul-warming. It was incredible.

“Su Bing… you’re a genius,” Chen Xi said, stunned.

He was nearly twenty and still couldn’t stir-fry greens without turning them into limp mush. Yet here was this boy, barely over ten, cooking like a seasoned chef. It was almost embarrassing.

Su Li grinned smugly. “Chen Xi, now do you believe me when I say my mom’s cake is better than the one you bought?”

Chen Xi took another sip of the silky tofu soup and frowned in mock confusion. “Wait—your brother’s cooking is good, sure, but what’s that got to do with your mom’s cakes?”

Su Li replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Everything! Because my brother learned from our mom. She’s the best cook in our whole family!”

Chen Xi couldn’t argue with that. He nodded as he took another bite, already dreaming up a plan. He was going to learn from Su Bing. He had to. Otherwise, once the boy returned to the Su household, where would he ever get food this good again?

…

The next day, Chen Xi rolled up to school on his sleek, ridiculously loud motorbike—the kind of thing that turned heads in all directions—and dropped the three kids off in style. As he revved the engine, he overheard Su Bing casually mention that he’d be helping the maid cook again tonight.

That was it—Chen Xi was already looking forward to dinner.

Behind him, the three children sat together on the backseat, wrapped in their own little world of nostalgia. The moment the bike started up, Su Bing felt it—a familiar rumble that tugged at memories of Daqing Village.

Back then, before his father had bought a proper car, he’d always taken them out on his old motorbike, with their mother seated behind him, arms wrapped around his waist.

That sound—the roar of the engine—it was one of the only loud noises Su Bing liked. The other, of course, was his mother’s voice.

Su Li remembered it too. He used to sit behind his father, his hands clutching the back of his shirt, the cool breeze brushing across his cheeks. He loved that feeling. It was better than any car.

“I’m going to learn how to ride a motorbike,” he declared suddenly. “It’s cooler than a car. When Dad comes back, I’ll get him to teach me.”

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