Chapter 106: Returning to My Parents' Home Tomorrow

“Well, you, Hao Xuan, how dare you mock me,” Qingying pretended to be angry and grabbed a small pillow nearby, tossing it at Hao Xuan.

Hao Xuan didn’t dodge; he let the pillow hit him squarely. “Oh no, Qingying’s trying to murder her husband! Help!”

“You villain,” Qingying said, running over and playfully punching him with her tiny fists.

Hao Xuan loved this playful atmosphere and laughed along with her.

Finally, Qingying remembered her rumbling stomach. “I’ve already cooked the rice; can you stir-fry two dishes?”

“Sure, I’ll start now.” Hao Xuan headed to the kitchen, glancing at the rice cooker and smiling bitterly.

“Did you put water in when you cooked the rice?” he asked.

“Of course I did! How else would you cook rice?” Qingying stood up and walked over.

But when she saw the uncooked rice still sitting dry in the pot, her face flushed. “Hao Xuan, I definitely added water. How did it end up like this?”

“Are you sure you put water in?” Hao Xuan frowned.

It was clear Qingying, being pampered, didn’t know much about cooking; otherwise, it wouldn’t have turned out this way.

“Yes, I did! Stop saying that, okay?” Qingying felt utterly embarrassed. He was so good at cooking, yet she had forgotten something as basic as adding water for rice.

Still, she couldn’t admit it in front of him—she had to save face or he might tease her forever.

It seemed she had already forgotten about their one-year engagement and was now thinking about a lifetime together.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Honey, why don’t you rest? I’ll get some food ready for you,” Hao Xuan suggested, knowing it was late and cooking rice again would take too long.

“Ah, don’t say things like that,” Qingying blushed as he teased her.

Before long, Hao Xuan brought out two bowls of steaming noodles.

Hungry, Qingying immediately started eating.

After they finished, Hao Xuan took out two VIP tickets to a Lu Ran concert. “Honey, I lined up to buy these tickets. Take them, and we’ll go together.”

He imagined holding Qingying’s hand as they enjoyed the concert, sharing a little intimacy—it was a perfect thought.

“You really queued up at the stadium?” Qingying looked at him tenderly. Though he was a bit poor, he treated her so well.

“Yes, as long as my wife likes it, even if it’s the stars in the sky, I’ll find a way to bring them to you,” Hao Xuan said seriously.

Quietly, Qingying said, “You must be tired. Go rest; I’ll wash the dishes.”

“I’m not tired, honey, I’ll wash the dishes,” Hao Xuan insisted, unwilling to let her do it.

Qingying glared at him. “Hao Xuan, have my words lost their power?”

“No, honey, your words still work. I’ll rest now.” He ran over and lay down on the sofa.

When Qingying finished washing the dishes and came out, she saw him lying there, looking utterly exhausted.

“Hey? What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

Hao Xuan grimaced. “Sigh, honey, I stood in line all day for those tickets. My feet hurt so much.”

“Your feet hurt?” For some reason, Qingying felt a pang in her heart, uneasy.

“Yes, so tired, it hurts terribly.” He deliberately stretched out his right foot, looking miserable.

After a moment’s hesitation, Qingying blushed and whispered, “Let me massage them for you.”

“Alright, alright,” Hao Xuan eagerly accepted.

He had been foolish just now, pretending to be unaffected.

Now, playing weak meant he’d get his wife’s care.

Her small hands pressed gently and softly on his leg; it felt better than any massage he’d ever had.

Just as Hao Xuan was savoring this blissful moment, the door clicked open, and Dong and Song came in.

Qingying panicked, squeezing his leg hard.

“Ah!” Hao Xuan yelped.

“What are you two doing?” Song, seeing her daughter and Hao Xuan on the sofa, asked loudly.

“N-nothing!” Qingying hurried upstairs in fright.

Hao Xuan tried to follow but was stopped by Song. “Hao Xuan, what did you just do to Qingying?”

“Mom, are your ears working right? It was me who screamed, not Qingying. How could I have done anything to her?” Hao Xuan frowned.

Luckily, Qingying hadn’t grabbed anywhere important, or he really would have been in trouble.

“Hmph, I warn you: next year, you’ll divorce Qingying. Don’t get any ideas, or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t get any ideas,” Hao Xuan thought, “Actually, I intend to. Qingying’s legally my wife—what I want, I can have.”

“By the way, I’m going back to my parents’ tomorrow. You’ll drive and dress nicely—no beach shorts and slippers like usual,” Song said gleefully.

When she married Dong, she wasn’t valued by the family and lived poorly, often looked down upon by her own parents.

Now, with her daughter Qingying as the general manager of the Baili Group and two new BMW X7s, she wanted to show off on this visit home.

“You two can go without me, right?” Hao Xuan shook his head hard.

He wasn’t a fool; if he could avoid such things, he would to avoid being the muscle.

But Song thought differently—she needed him as muscle for shopping.

“You have to go. You’re Qingying’s official husband. If you don’t go, others will mock her,” Song said. “You know, Qingying was looked down on at my parents’ before. This time, she’ll show them who she is.”

Hearing it was for Qingying’s sake, Hao Xuan patted his chest confidently. “Mom, you want face? Fine. Tomorrow, I’ll buy a few more BMWs. We’ll each drive one and tow another, smashing her family’s faces.”

“Enough bragging,” Song rolled her eyes. “Two BMW X7s are more than enough to make an impression. Why tow cars? Do you want us to arrive in a tow truck?”

“Heh, fine by me,” Hao Xuan laughed off the idea.

Tow trucks or tractors or bulldozers—he could handle it all.

Qingying lay in bed scrolling her phone when she heard soft knocks outside.

“Come in,” she said, pulling the covers up.

Only Hao Xuan would knock like that.

“Honey, you’re not asleep yet?” Hao Xuan pushed the door open, grinning as he came to the bed, about to sit down.

Qingying smiled softly as he approached.