Chi Yingyu, her sister-in-law, had always been too dreamlike.
Jiang Lai knew that together, they had carried the weight of their family.
No amount of gratitude could repay Chi Yingyu for her efforts.
With their hardships now behind them, Chi Yingyu deserved at least half the credit.
Jiang Lai had vowed to make up for everything her sister-in-law had given, but she’d never had the chance.
Now seemed like a perfect opportunity.
She didn’t want to be useless or live off Chi Yingyu’s hospitality for free.
Until she figured out work, Jiang Lai wanted to contribute whatever value she could.
Back home, they stored the groceries in the fridge and entered the rarely used kitchen.
Though she’d cooked porridge that morning, the kitchen looked brand new.
“The kitchen barely has any signs of use…”
The spices Jiang Lai saw that morning—some unopened, some not—were handled carefully.
She discarded the opened ones just to be safe and started organizing the new ones she’d bought.
Then she began cooking.
Chi Yingyu sat on a chair, watching Jiang Lai intently.
“Maybe this is the legendary apron romance.”
Jiang Lai tied her long hair into a ponytail, which swayed as she handled ingredients.
Wearing a cute cat-patterned apron, she looked like a perfect wife, someone you’d want to marry.
This romantic, cozy scene felt almost unreal to Chi Yingyu.
How could such a vivid moment be a dream?
It felt like Jiang Lai was her partner.
When was the last time she’d eaten a proper meal made by her brother-in-law, aside from that morning’s porridge?
When it came to cooking, even her late sister couldn’t compare to Jiang Lai.
To Chi Yingyu, her brother-in-law had no flaws.
Her own cooking, despite much practice, was merely edible, far from delicious.
She didn’t even like cooking.
If not for worrying about Jiang Lai’s health under his high-pressure job, she’d never have bothered with such tedious tasks.
Chi Yingyu was selfish and hated trouble.
She could be cold about things unrelated to her, even neglecting herself.
As long as she wasn’t starving or collapsing, she was fine.
But for Jiang Lai, she poured in all her effort and warmth.
Jiang Lai spent an hour in the kitchen, preparing a modest lunch, all dishes Chi Yingyu loved.
Even after so long, her brother-in-law still held her in his heart.
Sometimes, Chi Yingyu found herself ridiculous.
During the years living with Jiang Lai, she was jealous of her niece, Jiang Leyi, who took most of his love and attention.
When they lived together, even the rare times Jiang Lai cooked, it was for his daughter’s favorite foods.
It was only right—Jiang Leyi was his precious daughter, carrying half her sister’s genes.
But even knowing that, Chi Yingyu felt unbalanced, envious, like a child upset over what to eat.
She still remembered the first meal Jiang Lai made for her.
It was when he stayed at their home for the New Year, indulging the youngest, her.
That New Year’s dinner was all her favorite food.
It was so long ago that Chi Yingyu nearly forgot what she liked.
But Jiang Lai still remembered clearly.
He was her everything, her light in the darkness, the one she wanted to possess entirely.
Chi Yingyu longed to lock Jiang Lai at home, working outside to support her.
He just needed to stay obediently at home, looking only at her, belonging only to her.
During lunch, Chi Yingyu ate ravenously, devouring most of the meal.
Her earnest eating made Jiang Lai reluctant to interrupt.
Watching her, Jiang Lai wanted to pat her head, wondering if it felt as soft as before.
While resting after the meal, Jiang Lai opened up completely, sharing her plans with her trusted sister-in-law, including her new status as unemployed.
Though she tried to seem at peace, her face was clouded with gloom, no longer radiant.
Losing a job she’d poured decades into wasn’t easy for anyone.
It was a heavy blow, but not unexpected—she’d considered this outcome days ago.
Instead of dwelling on resentment, she’d work to improve her situation bit by bit.
“I don’t think I’ll change back…
So, how can I get a household registration?”
Her biggest issue was being undocumented, a “black household” without a legal ID, causing endless inconveniences.
It was urgent to resolve.
As a lawyer, Chi Yingyu likely knew more than her.
With an expert by her side, why search online?
“I’ll look into it.
Leave it all to me!”
Chi Yingyu agreed readily.
But Jiang Lai didn’t know that handling it herself might be faster.
Chi Yingyu didn’t want her to gain freedom.
If her identity remained restricted, Jiang Lai would depend only on her.
After all, Chi Yingyu was the only one who knew her true identity.
She wanted to be the sole person in Jiang Lai’s world, to hide her away in a place with no one else, to have her all to herself.
Chi Yingyu even regretted planning the afternoon bra shopping.
With Jiang Lai’s size, measurements would be needed.
She didn’t want anyone but herself touching her.
The only normal woman in her life is her daughter