As Su Tang captured the last wisp of twilight in a glass jar, the kitchen hummed with the whisper of olive oil kissing a skillet. She glanced down to check the clasp of her lace waist chain, its intricate web imprinting faint pink diamonds on her skin—rhythm synchronized with the half-drawn lace curtains trembling by the window.  

"New oven mitts?" Lin Xu's voice, sprinkled with basil crumbs, brushed her ear as he reached for the ladle. But her hand gently restrained his wrist, revealing the emerald-green lace  hair tie woven with gold threads—a subtle echo of the cufflinks on his shirt.  

 

Candlelight pirouetted over the dining table, toppling the salt cellar as silverware clinked. When Su Tang leaned to righten it, the lace panel beneath her collarbone rippled like Venetian waters wrinkled by the evening breeze. Lin Xu's fingers traced the lace trim of the tablecloth, wandering until they met the wineglass she pushed toward him, its chilled rim still warm from the imprint of her lips.  

 

Amid the dishwasher's drone, Su Tang stretched on tiptoe for a mint tin on the top shelf. Lin Xu's hovering hand froze at her waist—the bow at her back had loosened, the sheer lace  revealing faint rose-shaped light patterns, painted by neon seeping through the openwork patterns.  

As mint crystals cracked between teeth, his fingertip hooked the lace knot at her hairline. She turned, stirring a breeze of freesia, only to find him unraveling the tie with the precision of unwrapping a gift ribbon. "Returning the merchandise?" She pressed a dewy glass to his wrist, droplets crawling up his sleeve along lace grooves.  

 

A lace handkerchief drying on the balcony suddenly billowed over the pendant light. In the dimness, the clatter of a fallen spoon rang clear. Lin Xu's palm pressed against the embossed lace at her waist, their lifelines indistinguishable. Su Tang laughed while tugging at the fabric shrouding the lamp, her hair's gold threads tangling with the lace weft into an irresolvable web.  

 

When the night wind finally swept the lace curtains wide, moonlight flooded the chaotic dining table. Su Tang pinched a half-melted mint, folding its wrapper into a lace bookmark for his breast pocket: "Remember to return this tomorrow." The unremoved gold thread behind her ear still glimmered—a silent invitation. Lin Xu suddenly recalled the forgotten pot of cream soup—some thick emotions, after all, are best simmered on low heat.