The male supporting role was captured by the protagonist after his rebirth

Zhu Yunque suppressed the anger and disgust in her heart. She knew that now was not the time to have a head-on confrontation with Deng Shentong.

She needed more information and a plan, a plan that would allow her to gain a foothold in Deng Garden and even uncover the secret of Deng Shentong's flower garden.

She looked up and smiled, with a hint of cunning in her smile. "You are always so thoughtful. But I do have a special feeling for these flowers. Their beauty and fragrance always make me forget my troubles for a while."

Deng Shentong seemed satisfied with her answer. He patted her shoulder gently and said, "As long as you are happy. If you really like it, I can arrange for someone to send you a bouquet of fresh roses every day."

Zhu Yunque's heart moved. She knew this was an opportunity, an opportunity that would allow her to get closer to the flower garden.

"That's great. But I prefer to pick it myself, it makes it feel more special."

Deng Shentong nodded, seemingly not surprised by her request: "Of course, I'll let Zhang Yi arrange it."

Zhu Yunque was secretly delighted, for she knew that Zhang Yi held the key to the flower garden. If she could wait for Deng Shentong to leave Blizzard City and then approach the flower garden, perhaps she could find some clues.

She decided to use this information and go back to tell her uncle how to deal with it.

"Zhang Yi is a capable man," Zhu Yunque said casually, "but I'm worried that it would be too hard for him to manage the flower garden alone. Maybe I can help him a little. After all, I also want to contribute to this family."

Deng Shentong seemed a little surprised by her proposal, but he did not object: "If you are willing, that would be great. However, you should also pay attention to your body and not overwork yourself."

Zhu Yunque nodded, she knew that her plan had taken the first step.

This is a dangerous game, but she has no way out.

Her uncle's patience with her is running low. In order to find out the conspiracy behind the Deng family, she must be cautious and take every step carefully until she finds the answer that will satisfy her uncle.

…………

Zhang Yi returned to the house. It was almost evening. Zhu Yunque's matter was quickly forgotten. He looked up at the clock hanging on the wall, and a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

It was a rare day off, and Deng Shentong had no other social engagements, so he was able to stay at home and have dinner.

On a whim, he walked to the kitchen, where a pretty girl in her twenties wearing an apron was busy working.

Zhang Yi and Deng Shentong were already familiar with the maids in the courtyard. There were only a few of them. He walked up to them and said hello: "Sister Xiaoyu, are you cooking?"

Xia Xiaoyu took the time to look at him after hearing this, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and replied perfunctorily: "Well, I'm not busy at this time."

Seeing Xia Xiaoyu busy, Zhang Yi took the initiative to help.

He picked up the kitchen knife skillfully and began to help cut the vegetables. His movements were neat and tidy. Xia Xiaoyu was a little surprised, but soon regained her composure and said calmly, "You can cook?"

To be honest, she and several other maids, including most people in Deng Garden, were not optimistic about Zhang Yi. If a male host from a password bar could enter a place like Deng Garden, how could they, who had been trained since childhood, put their reputations?

"Yes." Zhang Yi smiled and answered while cutting vegetables.

Seeing that he had good knife skills, Xia Xiaoyu could only nod and say, "Then be careful."

Zhang Yi nodded. He knew that these maids didn't like him, and he could understand that. Fortunately, he was thick-skinned. He chatted with Xia Xiaoyu while cutting vegetables.

"Sister Xiaoyu, how long have you been in Dengyuan?" Zhang Yi asked casually.

"It's been almost ten years." Xia Xiaoyu replied, with a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. "Time flies so fast. Ten years have passed in the blink of an eye."

Zhang Yi knew that Xia Xiaoyu was a person of few words, but every time he chatted with her, he could always feel her deep affection for Deng Yuan.

He couldn't help but wonder if Xia Xiaoyu knew any secrets of Deng Shentong?

"Sister Xiaoyu, do you feel that the master has been acting a little strange lately?" Zhang Yi asked tentatively.

Xia Xiaoyu stopped what she was doing and looked up at Zhang Yi, a hint of vigilance flashing in her eyes: "Strange? What do you mean?"

Zhang Yi realized that he might have asked too directly, so he smiled and tried to ease the atmosphere: "Nothing, I just felt that he seemed to be worried recently."

Xia Xiaoyu was silent for a while, then whispered: "Everyone has their own secrets. As servants, it is best for us not to ask too much about the young master's affairs. Just do our own things."

Zhang Yi knew that Xia Xiaoyu didn't want to say more, so he stopped asking.

Just when Xia Xiaoyu was about to light the fire, Zhang Yi suddenly reached out and gently took the spatula from her hand, and said with a smile: "You go and do other things first, leave this to me."

Xia Xiaoyu widened her eyes, pouted angrily, glared at Zhang Yi and said, "You? Can you cook? Don't mess it up. Come on, give it back to me!"

Zhang Yi raised the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a confident smile, and comforted: "Don't worry, Sister Xiaoyu, believe in my cooking skills, I will never let you down."

As he spoke, Zhang Yi pushed Xia Xiaoyu out of the kitchen and closed the door, leaving Xia Xiaoyu standing at the kitchen door with a helpless look on her face.

However, when she saw Zhang Yi cooking with such skill and fluent technique, she couldn't help but feel surprised and curious. Could this guy really be good at cooking?

Xia Xiaoyu muttered to herself in her heart, but soon figured it out. After all, if he messed up, it would be his own problem and had nothing to do with her.

Besides, the young master dotes on him so much, so let him do whatever he wants.

Before long, the aroma of food filled the entire house.

Zhang Yi walked out of the kitchen with a smile on his face, holding the last dish in his hand, and said to Xia Xiaoyu with some pride: "Done! Now we can eat."

At this time, Deng Shentong walked in and saw the sumptuous dinner on the table, with a flash of surprise in his eyes. "Did you make this?" he asked Zhang Yi.

"Yes, Master." Zhang Yi replied somewhat embarrassedly, "I hope it suits your taste."

He hurried over and pulled out a chair for Deng Shentong. Deng Shentong raised his eyebrows at his attentive look, and without saying much, he sat down and picked up the chopsticks.

He glanced at the dishes on the table for a while, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, and then he picked up a dish that looked sweet and tasted it.

Although Deng Shentong's handsome face remained calm, his bright eyes betrayed his inner satisfaction.

Deng Shentong pretended to cough a few times and said reluctantly, "Well, not bad."

Zhang Yi secretly breathed a sigh of relief and said modestly: "Thank you for the compliment, Master. This is what I should do."

Facing Xia Xiaoyu's incredulous eyes, he took off his apron, wiped the sweat from his temples with a tissue, and secretly rejoiced in his heart.

Having spent so much time with Deng Shentong, Zhang Yi knows his taste very well.

He likes fish and sweets, eats little and is picky about taste. It is not easy to make dishes that suit his taste.

Zhang Yi tapped his forehead and sighed silently in his heart: "This is like raising a cat."

However, he did not complain at all. Instead, he felt that this kind of busyness was full of fun.

After all, being able to do something for Deng Shentong and make him happy is also a satisfying thing.

People in Jiangnan like to eat sweets. Although Deng Shentong has lived abroad for a period of time, this habit is no different from that in China.

Fortunately, Zhang Yi is also a local. His parents passed away early and he has been living alone. It is not difficult for him to cook such a table of authentic dishes.