Seeing that Su Li still hadn’t replied, MOKA arranged the beer bottles into a heart shape, then searched around the house for candles and placed them in the center of the beer bottle heart.
After lighting the candles, she turned off the lights, snapped a photo, and sent it to Su Li.
“Su Li, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong!”
“Su Li, I really know I was wrong!”
After sending these two edited messages, MOKA stared at them, feeling like her words didn’t sound sincere at all.
So she started deleting and editing on her cell phone keyboard, racking her brains but unable to come up with a fitting apology.
MOKA felt a headache coming on. She couldn’t understand why she suddenly had no inspiration for writing—not even for apologizing.
Isn’t this sort of thing just something you can make up as you go?
Although she had written lyrics before, she had never apologized to anyone.
So MOKA decided to use the popular AI software lately, and before long, the software sent her a template for an apology.
She simply copied the apology message and sent it directly to Su Li.
“It was my stubborn mouth and bad temper before. Using you like a tool was my fault.”
“You’ve worked so hard to help me, but I trampled on your efforts. Now I regret it so much I could cry.”
“Please trust me one more time. I swear I’ll respect everything you think. If you want me to change, I’ll change.”
“Can you… give me another chance?”
“Or you can just name your terms, as long as it’s something I can do.”
“This time, I’ll listen to your arrangements on my knees.”
Sure enough, after filling in the blanks with AI, MOKA was very satisfied with her apology.
It was her first time using an AI tool.
In the past, she had always resisted AI.
After all, many plagiarists liked to feed her lyrics to AI, then use what came out to make songs.
By stealing her creativity and inspiration, they sucked her dry to make a profit from views and money.
But all of that clearly belonged to her!
She hated those plagiarists, and so she hated AI by association.
MOKA felt that AI had no soul.
Only music created by someone in a certain environment like her could be called music, could be called art.
AI has no emotion, and could never replace humans!
But seeing the apology the AI had helped her write, MOKA suddenly felt maybe AI had its uses after all.
After all…
Just from reading the words, it really sounded pretty genuine.
This was already her third time apologizing to Su Li.
Back in the old days, Liu Bei went to visit Zhuge Liang only three times for the Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage.
She was already giving enough face to someone as lowly as Su Li.
But after waiting a long time, MOKA still hadn’t received any reply from Su Li.
……
Su Li was busy in the kitchen.
Since Miss Cat had agreed to come over for a meal, she planned to prepare a bit more.
She didn’t really mind cooking.
She didn’t have much opinion about food, either; to her, everything tasted about the same.
Eating bread or ordering takeout was more convenient.
But right now, she moved like a machine, handling the food step by step.
Miss Cat had offered to help, but by the time Miss Cat got off work, the two of them could just make a dish or two together.
After all, Su Li had noticed that Miss Cat’s usual work was mostly manual labor, so she’d probably be tired.
If she also had to cook, it’d be even more exhausting.
At that time, she’d just let Miss Cat help out with a couple of simple cold dishes.
Maybe because Miss Cat was coming over for dinner, Su Li specially bought some Little Fish Snacks.
Before, Cat Cat used to love eating Little Fish Snacks; she wondered if Miss Cat would also like them.
Thinking this, Su Li remembered the time Miss Cat secretly ate cat food, and felt that Miss Cat probably really would like Little Fish Snacks.
Besides Little Fish Snacks, Su Li even bought a few fish.
She planned to make Boiled Fish and Pickled Fish later.
Since Miss Cat was called “Cat Cat,” she probably loved fish as well.
Su Li had even thought about why Miss Cat was called “Cat Cat.”
Maybe the name carried someone’s heartfelt blessing for her.
Su Li sliced the grass carp on the cutting board into thin fillets, the snowy-white flesh neatly arranged in the Blue and White Porcelain Basin, minced garlic and shredded ginger piled up like a little mountain.
She grabbed half a bottle of Sichuan peppercorns; their numbing fragrance fell like fine snow onto the fish fillets.
Chili powder followed, scattered like a flurry.
Ginger slices sizzled in the hot oil, fish head and bones went in first for broth, and when the soup began to boil, she laid the fish fillets on top, curling instantly into cloudlike shapes.
When the pickled mustard was opened, its sour aroma stung the eyes.
She wrapped the marinated fish fillets in the pickled chili broth, stirring with bamboo chopsticks until the white and red swirled into a warm-colored vortex.
In the iron pot, chicken oil crackled, native chicken pieces turned golden and curled up, mushrooms soaked up broth and fanned out, finally topped with chopped green onion twirling in the rising steam.
Looking at the table piled with meat dishes, Su Li knew there was no way two people could finish all this.
If they couldn’t finish, maybe she could invite Miss Cat to come over again for dinner in the evening.
Thinking this, Su Li felt that this time cooking felt different from when she cooked for Chi Qingya.
Even though she still had no emotional ups or downs.
But what was different?
Su Li stared at the steaming dishes before her for a while, still unable to figure out the answer.
She didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she prepared to fry a few more vegetable dishes.
With the iron pot still warm, Su Li grabbed a potato and sliced it into thin shreds on the cutting board, knife scraping wood with a soft shhh.
The potato shreds, fragrant with vinegar, tumbled in the oil; green pepper chunks sizzled in the golden oil.
Broccoli, coated in minced garlic and salt, glistened with beads of water. Cucumber, smashed into pieces, was tossed in chili oil, while garlic swirled in vinegar dressing.
With the extractor fan rumbling, the Blue and White Porcelain plates stacked up like little hills.
The fresh aroma of vegetables mingled with the rich scent of meat, the steam blurring the window’s reflection as evening fell.
Finally, she prepared two or three portions of fruit salad.
Miss Cat probably didn’t eat much fruit, right?
After all, in Miss Cat’s mind, fruit might be pretty expensive—she probably wouldn’t be willing to spend money on it.
But when Miss Cat came to see her, the bag she brought was filled with fruit.
Many were out-of-season and expensive.
There were even a few complimentary Sugar Tangerines inside.
Su Li guessed that when Miss Cat bought fruit, maybe she just thought the pricier ones were better, without even knowing the real prices.
Just as Su Li was preparing all this, a knock sounded at the door.
When she opened the door, she immediately saw Miss Cat standing there, head lowered nervously.
Miss Cat’s dark blue apron was still tied around her waist, the collar of her shirt skewed awkwardly, a Convenience Store name tag pinned on.
Her apron pocket bulged with her cell phone, the screen cracked like a spiderweb and still dusted with flour.
Her light gray shirt collar was dampened with sweat, the top button popped open, revealing a dusted collarbone.
Her dark work pants were frayed at the knees, canvas shoes marked with soy sauce stains from morning restocking.
When she raised her hand to wipe sweat, strands of hair stuck to her flushed cheeks.
Seeming to notice Su Li open the door, she switched the shopping bag to her left hand, the plastic handle leaving a deep red mark on her palm.
“Su Li, I… I’m here!”
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