Chapter Forty: She Suffers from Anorexia

Because Lu Yimeng developed anorexia in order to maintain her figure, Chen Xin prepared mostly vegetarian dishes for her, with the only meat being chicken breast—a staple in weight-loss meals. The frozen chicken breast was thawed and cut in half, dried, then marinated for ten minutes with crushed pepper and salt. No oil was added to the pan; once it was hot, the chicken was placed directly onto it and cooked until both sides turned golden. A gentle prod with chopsticks—if they pierced through easily, the meat was done.

In a glass bowl sat vegetables prepped during the chicken’s marination: blanched carrot slices, a small portion of steamed potato, finely sliced rounds of cucumber, delicate strands of purple cabbage, and lettuce leaves soaked briefly in lightly salted water. The chicken was torn into thick strips with chopsticks and added to the salad bowl, then tossed with a homemade dressing of light soy sauce and fruit vinegar.

Watching Chen Xin prepare the meal, Lu Yimeng noticed every ingredient was meticulously cleaned, no oil was used throughout, and the dressing was a blend of mild soy sauce and fruit vinegar. The first bite brought a subtle sweet-and-sour note, crisp lettuce, sweet cucumber, and the slight astringency of purple cabbage, harmonizing into a wonderfully complex flavor.

There wasn’t much food, divided into three bowls. One contained only chicken, potato, cucumber, and tomato slices—for Zhang Zhang, the chubby boy, who was heavy enough to benefit from the occasional weight-loss meal to help his digestion.

“I prefer mine a bit more tangy, so I added extra fruit vinegar to my bowl. Try it and see if the taste suits you. If anything isn’t to your liking, we can adjust it.”

Treating Lu Yimeng not as a patient but as a friend, Chen Xin settled Zhang Zhang into a child’s dining chair and let him feed himself with a fork.

The three didn’t eat in the main dining hall but retreated to the small dining room outside the kitchen. Originally meant for staff meals, it was spotless and opened onto a little garden, separated from the guests’ area by a wall of evergreen plants.

Before they began eating, Qiao Wenbing hurried in, still in his suit from an interview, his face flushed.

“Lu, you didn’t even let anyone know you were coming?” he complained as soon as he entered, worried he might trouble Chen Xin.

Everyone at their workplace knew about Lu Yimeng’s illness and her precarious marriage. Those closest to her were searching for ways to help her out of her predicament. But simply mentioning her situation in their work chat had prompted Lu to rush over, leaving Qiao feeling caught in the middle; if anything happened, he couldn’t bear that responsibility.

“Don’t worry, Brother Qiao, she’s fine. I just made a salad for her to try. Do you want some?”

Qiao Wenbing glanced at the bowl and shook his head vigorously. “It’s all greens—I won’t eat it. Is there any meat?”

“There’s some red wine beef stew left from last night. I was planning to serve it with noodles for the staff dinner. If you don’t mind, I’ll whip up a bowl of pasta for you.”

“Sure, any kind will do. Just make me a bowl. I barely tasted anything during the interview today—the food was awful. I’m so hungry my stomach’s sticking to my back.”

Lu Yimeng ignored their banter, her gaze fixed on the vegetable salad, lost in inner conflict.

She wanted to eat, but her stomach signaled rejection. Yet her rational mind reminded her that this path led to death, so she forced herself to pick up the fork and stab the smallest, most palatable cucumber slice, determined to see if she could swallow it.

With Chen Xin absent, the chubby boy munched away noisily, watching Lu Yimeng’s solemn expression, while Qiao Wenbing stood ready to intervene should things go awry.

Lu placed the cucumber in her mouth but didn’t rush to chew or swallow, needing time to adjust. As long as she resisted the urge to spit it out, the first step was accomplished.

At first, the pure, primal taste of vegetables made her stomach spasm; she thought she might not be able to stop herself from vomiting. Yet, curiously, a mild, sweet-and-sour juice far lighter than usual coated her throat. The feeling of nausea didn’t arrive; instead, the urge for another bite grew stronger.

Slowly, she managed two or three mouthfuls of vegetables, then turned her attention to the chicken strips, scarcely thicker than bean sprouts.

The chicken had none of the greasy or gamey flavors she remembered; instead, it was lightly spicy with pepper and gently sweet from the soy sauce, resulting in a refreshing taste, with no trace of oil in the aroma. After swallowing the chicken, half a minute passed before Lu Yimeng looked up at Qiao Wenbing.

Neither could believe it—Lu Yimeng had eaten, and showed no signs of nausea. Could this mean her anorexia might be cured?

Just as Qiao Wenbing wanted to encourage her to eat more, Chen Xin called him from the side.

“Brother Qiao, could you come over for a moment?”

“What’s up? Listen, Lu just ate something!” Unable to hold back, Qiao Wenbing wanted to share the news immediately.

“Stay calm, Brother Qiao, stay calm.” Chen Xin managed to stop him. “This is just the first step for Sister Lu. Today, her strong willpower helped her suppress her physical reaction. Whether it’s truly a success needs further verification. Here are your noodles; please eat them inside. The beef is quite strong in flavor, so I’m concerned it might unsettle Sister Lu.”

Qiao Wenbing didn’t protest, wolfed down the noodles in a few bites, and even rinsed his mouth before returning to Lu Yimeng’s side.

“If you don’t want to eat, you don’t have to. I’ll give you some recipes, and you can try making them at home, a little at a time. Don’t force yourself to swallow.”

As she spoke, Chen Xin pulled out a small notebook and began writing vegetarian recipes for Lu Yimeng.

“All these are vegetarian, low in oil and salt. As for meat, I suggest you stay away from pork, beef, and lamb for now. Start with chicken, rabbit, and fish—eat whatever doesn’t make you feel sick, and however you like. I’m usually here on weekends, so if you want to come by and chat, you’re welcome.”

Seeing Chen Xin generously fill more than ten pages with recipes for her, Lu Yimeng fell silent.

She wasn’t easily moved, especially after all she’d been through—when even the person beside her in bed was ready to give up, it was unlikely that a stranger could shake her heart. But Chen Xin was different; she didn’t act overly considerate, treating her like a slightly closer friend, her expressions and tone with Qiao Wenbing revealing that she was helping for his sake, perhaps with a touch of sympathy for Lu’s illness.

Lu Yimeng didn’t say much in gratitude. She simply paid for the meal according to the menu, took the recipes Chen Xin had given her, and left.

Qiao Wenbing accompanied her, later calling Chen Xin to say that Lu Yimeng had gone to see her primary doctor, showed him the recipes, and described her dining experience and portion sizes.

“The doctor said this is excellent. If she keeps it up, she’ll see great improvement.” Qiao Wenbing paused, then added, “I’m planning to talk to Lu’s husband. At times like this, having family nearby would be better for her.”

Chen Xin didn’t know much about Lu Yimeng’s family situation and didn’t dare offer any comment or advice, simply agreeing with Qiao Wenbing’s suggestion.