Author's Note:

As you will notice I won't font the conversations (for Chinese) in my LxM chapters anymore because I'm lazy it's more convenient for me, i hope you understand. Let's just say they're talking in Korean now since Luhan studied it too and he doesn't want to trouble Miala he he he.. Comments are more than welcome!

Day 7:

Mandarin Palace, Beijing, China 8:50 A.M.

The elevator door dinged open, cutting off Luhan’s reverie. He lazily pushed the cart out towards the grandiose hall while eyeing the expensive paintings and gold-laden decorations surrounding him. It was a weird morning for him, he thought.

First, being personally requested by a guest for room service?

Second, the type of ‘service’ they needed.

God, it wasn’t anything rated of some sort.

He had those before though, creepy rich ahjjumas who he kindly declined to.  Since he didn’t want to get fired, he complained to the managers. He shook his head to rid those nasty thoughts away then examined the contents of the cart he was delivering.

At 9:00 am in the morning, people would usually order breakfast. At any time of day, people would usually order food. But no, this guest ordered- well, raw food?

His eyebrows scrunched, more like baking ingredients? Baking powder, butter, chocolate powder, flour, etc. He didn’t even know their hotel offered that kind of service,

Does the owner think we’re some grocery store?  He sighed as he knocked on the door.

An all too familiar door.

“Room service.”

“Luhanie oppa~” a sweet smile greeted him.

I should’ve known. He facepalmed.

 

 

“So..you’re going to make a cake for that old man, just because it’s his birthday?” Luhan observed the giddy heiress as she set up the ingredients he brought in the kitchen island.

“What do you mean JUST because it’s his birthday? IT’S Mr. Kim’s BIRTHDAY! He came here in Beijing with me and can’t spend it with his family because of me. That’s why I feel especially responsible” Miala pouted while checking the recipe on her iPad.

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow, “Pfft, can’t you buy him a birthday cake like most normal rich people do? Give him a raise or something.”

“But…but isn’t that why you didn’t like me in the first place? You think we solve everything with money.. I’m trying not to be like that anymore” she smiled dejectedly, as she made eye contact to the now slightly guilty Luhan.

“Fine. Don’t cry, you’ll look uglier” he teased by poking on her forehead.

“And it’s not as if I like you now, pssh such a pretentious heiress.” Luhan held his tongue out making the heiress giggle at his childishness.

“So you’ll help me make a cake, right?” Miala batted her eyelashes cutely, hoping her aegyo would work; it normally does for everybody.

Except for Luhan.

“.. you don’t even know how to make one!?” the latter face palmed, a head ache he now seemed to have acquired.

 

Do I wanna help her?

No FRIGGIN way.

What if she burns the hotel room?

A PRESIDENTIAL SUITE ROOM??

Do I wanna get fired? He sighed coming to a conclusion.

...

...

“I DO KNOW…how to mix stuff” she grinned innocently.

Luhan rolled his eyes, “Oh wow, how VERY impressive.” His reply filled with sarcasm then took the device from her to view the recipe.

“While I preheat the oven, go get the pans, spatulas and the mixer” he said sternly, quite focused on the job to be honest; focused on not losing his job as well.

“Yessir!” Miala saluted with a wide smile before proceeding to gather the other materials as well as cleaning them.

When Luhan was finished, he noticed the heiress struggling to get the mixer from a high cabinet. As his gaze lowered down, he also noticed a hint of skin since her top was riding up; FORCING it to find something else to focus on.

Jfc, when will you ever wear appropriate clothes Miala? (A/N: She's wearing a cropped top)

Her forehead creased in exasperation as her tip toeing was on its limit, with her leaning on the counter already and still couldn’t reach the damn mixer.

Just a little bit more..” she tried jumping slightly.

“A little mor—mwoh?” she felt a tug on her shirt. When she stood flat on her foot, she felt her back press against something warm and sturdy.

H-his…chest? The heat from her back rose to her cheeks.

Luhan was also quite stunned at their proximity and moved back an inch, a tad 5 seconds later. Enough time to notice the smooth skin on her neck, her fruity smelling hair as well as the natural smell the heiress seemed to have herself. And he had pondered a thought, a thought he wished his mind would erase that instant.

Stop being such a goddamn ert Luhan.

He reached for the mixer and placed it on the counter in front of her before making a bee line towards the pans to start buttering them.

All the while, Miala stood frozen on her spot, not looking at anything but the mixer yet her mind elsewhere. The clanking of the pans brought her back to her senses.

She repeatedly pat her face to pay attention—rather to signal it to return to its normal blood circulation.

I’m not gonna lose to you! She nodded, back to her old determined self.

 

 

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