Xu Jin rolled up his sleeves with great seriousness, as if he were about to perform surgery instead of washing dishes.
Chen watched from the side, arms crossed, amused.
"Wait," Chen said, turning toward the cabinet above the sink. He opened it and took out two aprons—one pale beige, simple and clean; the other slightly darker, with a tiny embroidered leaf near the hem.
He handed one to Xu Jin.
"Wear this."
Xu Jin stared at it.
Then stared at Chen.
Then stared at the apron again.
"…How?"
Chen blinked. Once.
"…You don't know how to wear an apron?"
Xu Jin cleared his throat. "I've… never needed one."
Chen exhaled slowly, the kind of sigh that carried disappointment, disbelief, and fond annoyance all at once.
"Give it here."
Xu Jin obediently handed it back.
