The Embroidered Chef

“My savior, I can never repay you for saving my life. I-I can only offer you my hand in marriage!” The young woman smiled brightly, her gaze bold and ardent. The handsome young master before her, fair as jade, slowly turned red at the tips of his ears. The young master sighed helplessly. “It was only a small favor. Please don’t call me your savior anymore, miss!” The young woman’s eyes lit up with delight. “Does that mean you accept?” The young master asked in confusion, “Accept what?” “Your hand in marriage, of course!” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The young master’s ears reddened even more, and he stammered, “Y-you’re a woman. How can you be so…” “If you really don’t like me, then forget it!” The young woman put on an indifferent smile, turned, and walked away. She had barely taken a few steps when a pair of arms slipped around her waist. The young master’s voice, still a little shy, sounded by her ear. “I do like you. Don’t go!”