In My Desperate Time novel Chapter 116

“4 million? Did you eat his one-thousand-year ginseng?”

Steven Song asks me surprisingly.

He's still in the mood to joke. I'm nervous to death!

“Never mind. Anyway, I can’t pay it off for a while. So I'd better go out to relax and get some inspirations. When do we leave tomorrow?”

“Eight in the morning. I will pick you up at Louis’s house.”

Pick me up?

Forget it. It is difficult to figure out Frances Louis’s minds. Steven Song is also a man. I am afraid that he will be unhappy and lose his temper.

“At the dock, right? I’ll go there by myself.”

Then I go back to my office.

If I stayed here much longer, I'm afraid that people will think I'm doing something shady with Steven Song.

This morning Frances Louis told me to go home early. So as soon as I get off work, I hurry home without stopping.

When I get home, he hasn’t gone home yet.

Damn him! He asked me to come home early but he doesn’t come back?

Then why did he order me to come home early?

I feel hungry, so I roll up my sleeves and go into the kitchen. I let Betty sit down on the couch to watch TV.

Betty bought the spareribs. I'm going to make sweet and sour spareribs.

I pour oil into the pot, and smokes rise up. I hold the ribs and stand a little further, afraid to be splashed by the hot oil.

“I have told you not to go into the kitchen.”

Frances Louis’s voice comes behind me.

I am so startled that the ribs I am carrying drop into the pot. The oil spatter out and burn my hands.

The pain is sharp.

Frances Louis rushes over. He quickly turns off the fire, and takes my hand to flush under the water for a long time.

I feel comfortable when the cold water flushing my hand, but after the flush, it is still burning pain.

There are many red spots on my hand, someone is big and someone is small, and the biggest one is probably as big as a coin. I've burned myself before, but not as bad as this time.

What a bloody year!

I just cut my face and now my hand is burned. Now these are only red spots, but it'll probably be blisters later.

“I have told you not to go into the kitchen. You treat it as nonsense?”

Frances Louis takes me out of the kitchen, his face horribly pale. It is the first time I ever see Frances Louis swear.

No matter how angry he was before, he had self-control. But today, he is too abnormal.

But how can I be blamed for the burn? I've been so careful.

“But for your sudden entrance, I should not have been frightened, nor burned.”

I murmur.

“What?” Frances Louis frowns, his sharp eyes make me shiver.

I wuss out immediately.

“Nothing.”

Frances Louis takes out a first-aid kit, searching in it for a while, then looks up and asks Betty.

“Betty, where's the scald ointment?”

“We don’t have scald ointment. My hands are hard and rough. Besides, I have been cooking for so many years. Usually I won’t be burned.” She says for a while, looking at the long face of Frances Louis and saying, “I will go out to buy scald ointment.”

Soon, Betty comes back with the scald ointment.

Frances Louis's face is dark the whole time. He applies medicine to my hand gently, but I still feel the pain.

“Ouch.” I gasp and draw back my hand.

“Now you know the pain?”

He says in a cold voice, but his movements become gentler and softer. After applying the burn cream, my hands feel much better. I hope they don't get blisters.

After it, Frances Louis turns to Betty and says, “Betty, you'd better go back home. In the future, the kitchen shall be blocked off. We won’t cook at home. You can take care of your grandson and have a rest at home. It’s okay that you just come over and do the cleaning from time to time.”

Betty goes home and there are only Frances Louis and me in the big house.

He sits on the couch, and he hasn't said a word since Betty left.

I am hungry.

I wouldn't be in the kitchen if I weren't so hungry and Betty's cooking was so unappetizing.

“I am hungry.” I look piteously at Frances Louis.

My stomach will ache again if I keep on being so hungry.

“Stay hungry, or you won’t learn your lesson.”

Frances Louis says and goes upstairs. I sit there, not daring to cook. I can only drink a glass of milk, but still feel hungry.

I am about to go upstairs when the doorbell rings.

Who will be coming so late?