The one thing Lin Bei regrets most in her life is that on Su Chen’s birthday, she personally turned the kitchen into a crime scene.

When Su Chen pushed open the front door, this was the scene that greeted her: white batter smeared all over the kitchen’s glass door, three charred, unidentified objects emitting smoke on the stove, and Lin Bei herself covered from head to toe in flour—looking just like an extra who’d escaped from a disaster movie.

And in her hands, she was holding something that barely resembled a cake.

“Surprise?” she forced a smile that looked even worse than crying.

Su Chen stood in the entryway, her expression shifting from shock to resignation to acceptance.

“What are you doing?”

“A cake,” Lin Bei held up the plate in her hand. “It’s low-sugar. Made in the electric rice cooker.”

“Where’s the electric rice cooker?”

Lin Bei pointed toward the trash can with her chin. Su Chen walked over and saw that the inner pot of the high-end electric rice cooker—worth three thousand yuan—was coated in a layer of carbonized black residue, its original color completely obscured.

“I’ve had this rice cooker for two years, and I’ve never used it once,” he said, his voice as calm as the sea before a storm.

“But today it got used,” Lin Bei said.

Su Chen took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Lin Bei, if you were my employee today, I’d have fired you already.”

“But I’m not your employee—I’m your tenant.”

“If a tenant destroys the landlord’s electric rice cooker, the lease contract says they have to pay for it.”

“The contract doesn’t mention that at all.”

“I’m adding it now.”

The two stared at each other for three seconds, then Lin Bei couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing. Su Chen’s lips twitched too, and in the end she couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“What are you laughing at?” Lin Bei asked.

“Laughing at myself. I actually didn’t get mad.”

“Because today is your birthday—getting mad is bad luck.”

“I don’t believe in that kind of stuff.”

“Then why didn’t you get mad?”

He walked into the kitchen, opened the window to let some air in, then took the cake from Lin Bei and put it on the dining table.

The cake was oddly shaped, with a pitted surface and unevenly spread frosting; on top, strawberry sauce had been scribbled in crooked letters spelling out four words: “Happy Birthday.”

“That word,” Su Chen pointed, “is ‘happy’?”

“No, it’s ‘birthday.’”

“Oh…” Su Chen rolled her eyes.

Lin Bei scratched her head sheepishly. “This is my first time making a cake, so I’m not very good at it. But the taste should be okay—I’ve already tasted the scraps.”

“Scraps?”

“Just the bits that got cut off.”

“You cut it?”

“How else am I supposed to arrange it?”

Su Chen stared at the cake that had already been “trimmed” and fell silent.

“How many cuts did you make?”

Lin Bei nervously held up two fingers. “Two… two cuts.”

“You cut off half of it with two cuts?”

“Because my first cut was crooked, I had to make a second one…”

Su Chen closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Then she picked up the cake knife, cut off a small piece, and put it in her mouth.

Lin Bei watched her expression anxiously.

After chewing twice, Su Chen stopped moving.

“So how is it?” Lin Bei asked.

Su Chen didn’t answer. She chewed twice more and swallowed hard.

“Not bad.”

“‘Not bad’ again? Can’t you use a different word?”

“It’s not awful.”

“Is that really a change?”

Su Chen cut off another piece, and Lin Bei watched as she ate the second, third, and fourth pieces, her smile growing wider and wider.

“You’ve eaten four pieces already.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But didn’t you say it was too sweet?”

“This one’s low-sugar.”

“Didn’t you say birthdays aren’t worth celebrating?”

Su Chen put down her fork and looked at her.

“Lin Bei, what exactly are you trying to say?”

Lin Bei sat down across from her, propping her chin with her hand, bobbing her head like a little bird and shaking it back and forth. “I’m saying, you’re clearly happy—why are you pretending it doesn’t matter?”

Su Chen didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Besides the cake, what else did you make today?”

Lin Bei counted on her fingers. “Steamed sea bass, blanched Chinese greens, chicken soup. Oh, and longevity noodles too. I’ll go make you some noodles.”

End of Chapter 24: I Ruined My Birthday