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Psst! We're moving!
Yu Qing took over a dozen photos, deleting a few that didn’t turn out well. She handed the phone to Yu Jingxin, letting her choose the one she thought made Ji Qingyuan look the most handsome.
Ji Qingyuan recognized the phone case as Yu Jingxin’s and had been particularly cooperative during the photo session.
Due to nerves, he added too much sugar while cooking.
Remembering his father-in-law’s advice—”If you add too much sugar, just add ketchup”—he ended up pouring in too much ketchup as well.
The dish was likely inedible.
When the “national dish” was finally ready, Yu Qing asked Yu Jingxin to take a few pictures of it to post alongside the earlier photos.
Yu Jingxin hesitated, standing still without moving.
She didn’t want to appear too eager, as if she were desperate for his attention.
Ji Qingyuan carried the plate over, grabbed a pair of chopsticks, picked up a piece of tomato, blew on it because it was still hot from the pan, and held it up to Yu Jingxin’s mouth. “Try it. See if it tastes good.”
Caught off guard, Yu Jingxin felt more uncomfortable than anything else. Being fed in front of her family felt strange, and her ears began to heat up slightly.
To save face for Ji Qingyuan, she ate the piece of tomato. As for whether it tasted good, she couldn’t tell at first, but when she swallowed, she couldn’t help but frown.
Too much sugar and ketchup made it unbearably sweet and bitter.
Ji Qingyuan asked, “How is it?”
It was hard for Yu Jingxin to lie and say it was delicious. She merely nodded weakly.
Yu Qing captured this classic moment with her own phone and sent it to Yu Jingxin.
She waved to Yu Jingxin, and the two went to the living room to focus on their “project.”
Yu Qing acted as an advisor, helping select two photos: one of Ji Qingyuan cooking from behind and another of him feeding Yu Jingxin the tomato.
“Isn’t this being too high-profile?” Yu Jingxin felt resistant; she lacked the confidence to be so bold.
“You’re too low-key—that’s why people think your marriage is unhappy.” Yu Qing urged her to write a caption. “If you can’t come up with one, I’ll help. But try to do it yourself—speak your mind.”
After some thought, Yu Jingxin wrote: [It really doesn’t taste good.]
Yu Qing: “… Sister, this isn’t a game of truth or dare.”
Yu Jingxin remained silent, slowly deleting each word of her edited caption.
After a long while, she still had no idea what to write.
Yu Qing poked her cheek. “Have you eaten too many Tianjin twisted dough sticks? You’re all twisted up and can’t untangle yourself.”
Yu Jingxin laughed despite herself. Her heart was tangled with knots, and over the past four years, those knots had woven into a web that trapped her.
“From the time I met Ji Qingyuan, we went through matchmaking and decided to get married within a week. I had just returned from abroad and didn’t know about his past relationships. When he proposed marriage, I was overjoyed for days, thinking I was so lucky—that the man I liked also liked me.”
“I even shared my indescribable joy with my friends.”
She chuckled bitterly. “Later, I realized I’d made a fool of myself. While I was jumping with joy, others watched me like I was a clown performing alone.”
Yu Qing poked her other cheek. She knew Yu Jingxin’s concerns—always afraid of being seen as self-delusional and embarrassed if exposed.
“You don’t need to cater to anyone, and you shouldn’t suppress yourself. Just express your true feelings right now.”
Yu Jingxin: “It didn’t taste good, and he knew it, yet he still made me praise it.”
Yu Qing pressed further. “And? Even if it wasn’t tasty, do you still want to eat it tomorrow? Be honest. Lying will make you gain weight—your face will get fat, your waist thick, and your arms strong.”
Yu Jingxin: “… “
What a harsh curse.
After a long pause, she managed to squeeze out a faint “Mm.”
Yu Qing lifted her chin. “Write it down—include both thoughts.”
Struggling to figure out how to phrase such a sentimental and quirky caption, Yu Jingxin wracked her brain and eventually came up with: [It didn’t taste good, but he still made me praise it. PS: I want to eat it again tomorrow.]
She showed it to Yu Qing. “It feels kind of like meaningless whining.”
Yu Qing made slight adjustments: [It didn’t taste good, but he still made me praise it. PS: I want to eat it again tomorrow. I’m just a tsundere baby.]
She clicked send without hesitation.
“Wait, wait!” Yu Jingxin tried to stop Yu Qing, but it was too late. “I feel goosebumps. If no one has seen it yet, let me rewrite it quickly.”
Yu Qing held the phone behind her back. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I’m already a mother—I can’t call myself a ‘baby’!”
“Every woman is a baby. It has nothing to do with age.”
Yu Qing confiscated her phone. “I’ll return it to you in an hour. Sister, you need to learn how to be playful—it’s infinitely more effective than sulking. If you don’t believe me, give it a try.”
She went to find Fu Jichen.
Fu Jichen was peeling fresh tomatoes, his sleeves rolled up past his forearms. His ring and watch were damp, reflecting tiny glimmers of light under the lamp.
His movements were clumsy, but he was extremely focused.
Yu Qing glanced at the pan he had used earlier—it was spotless, with droplets of water sliding down to the bottom. “Where’s the dish you cooked?”
“All eaten,” Fu Jichen said nonchalantly.
“How could you not leave any for me?”
“It was too delicious.”
“…” Yu Qing laughed. It was probably inedible, but he had forced himself to swallow it.
She leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him work.
He was clearly struggling—it took him forever just to peel the tomatoes.
“President Fu, don’t strain yourself.”
Fu Jichen: “Practice makes perfect. I want to cook something nice for you.”
Meanwhile, Ji Qingyuan pulled a few more eggs out of the fridge.
Yu Qing strolled over leisurely. “Brother-in-law, still practicing?”
Ji Qingyuan turned his head. “Mm.” He was curious. “Why did you and your sister take those photos?”
“To document life,” Yu Qing said casually. “My sister is stubborn—she wanted to take pictures of you but didn’t want to forgive you, so I did it for her.”
She grabbed a washed tomato and took a bite—it was pleasantly tangy.
“My sister is probably close to forgiving you. She posted it on Weibo. Brother-in-law, keep it up.”
With that, she turned and walked away.
“Yu Qing, come back.”
“What is it?” Yu Qing turned around.
Ji Qingyuan hesitated. “What’s your sister’s Weibo handle?”
“You don’t know?”
“No. I asked her, and she said she didn’t have one.”
Yu Qing told Ji Qingyuan the username. “Brother-in-law, we’ll do what we can to help as family, but it’s ultimately up to you how you handle things.”
She didn’t elaborate further.
Ji Qingyuan wiped his hands and eagerly searched for the account, wanting to see what Yu Jingxin had posted.
Less than an hour later, Yu Qing returned the phone to Yu Jingxin.
After much deliberation, Yu Jingxin still felt uneasy and logged in to edit the post again. However, she found a comment.
Ji Qingyuan: [Mm, I’ll make another plate for this tsundere baby tomorrow.]
After reading it, Yu Jingxin felt her cheeks flush.
That subtle feeling settled deep in her heart.
It was like a small stone tossed into a lake, sending ripples outward in gentle waves.
________________________________________
This night, which had started off beautifully, took a turn.
Her friend deeply regretted her impulsive move—she had opened Yu Jingxin’s Weibo just to check if she was online, only to stumble upon that post.
And there it was: Ji Qingyuan’s like and comment.
When Leng Wenning leaned over, she saw it too.
The photo of him feeding her and the word “baby” struck like a blade, piercing straight from her throat to her heart.
The fiery liquor burned its way down, searing with pain.
Leng Wenning ordered another glass, tilted her head back, and downed it in one gulp.
Her friend snatched the glass away, trying to comfort her. “That photo of Ji Qingyuan feeding her—it’s obviously staged. Maybe his mother pressured him to do it because she doesn’t want them to divorce. She’s probably afraid he’ll come back to you after the divorce, so they’re putting on this show of affection to make you give up.”
Leng Wenning suddenly turned her head. “But even if he was forced, he still went through with it, didn’t he?”
Her friend was left speechless.
In the noisy bar, their corner fell silent.
Her friend urged her, “Wenning, if you can’t let go, why don’t you take the first step? If you go to him, he won’t be able to stay indifferent. Let me say something you might not like—hearing about you going on blind dates with other men during your argument made such a public spectacle. If I were Ji Qingyuan, I wouldn’t swallow that either.”
Leng Wenning stared at her empty glass, saying nothing.
Her friend shook her head gently. “Let’s go home. I’ll keep you company tonight.”
They paid the bill and left.
By unfortunate coincidence, Leng Wenning ran into Qiao Yang at the club.
Qiao Yang had come with her cousin Qiao Han for some fun. After stepping out of the restroom, she came face-to-face with Leng Wenning.
Leng Wenning forced a disdainful smile. “Manager Qiao, so busy that you’ve brought your work to the nightclub?”
Her tone was sharp and confrontational.
Qiao Yang also faked a smile. “Yes, I’m here looking for future planning companies to collaborate with President Fu. And you, President Leng—are you here to meet clients?”
Leng Wenning: “… “
Her expression softened slightly.
Her friend also knew Qiao Yang. The contracts Leng Wenning’s company had taken from Fu Corporation had been handled by her before. But now, Leng Wenning’s collaboration with Fu Corporation had fallen through.
When the tide rises, boats rise; conversely, when the water dries up, fish die.
With fewer projects coming her way, naturally, her share of the profits would dwindle.
All the frustrations of the night converged, and she couldn’t resist venting her anger.
“Manager Qiao must be working so hard for President Fu that you’ve brought your overtime to the club. I used to feel the same way when I worked—I had a crush on my boss, and it gave me energy for everything. Do you… like Fu Jichen too?”
Qiao Yang smiled. “Working for Fu Corporation, how dare I not like the boss? Even if I didn’t like him, I’d pretend to. What do you think?”
At that moment, Qiao Han arrived. He had heard every word of their conversation but pretended otherwise, striding over to Qiao Yang.
He glanced at Leng Wenning and her friend, then addressed Qiao Yang. “Are they trying to sell you beer or health products?”
“…………”
Qiao Han grabbed Qiao Yang. “How many times have I told you not to talk to random people at clubs? Are you ignoring me?”
Back at their seats, Qiao Yang chuckled. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
Qiao Han: “Women always scheming and fighting among yourselves—it’s exhausting, isn’t it?”
Qiao Yang sipped her drink. “Do you think I enjoy it? What else can I do? I’m paid to get things done. I’ve already offended Leng Wenning.”
Qiao Han didn’t know the full story. “Don’t leave me hanging—explain clearly.”
Qiao Yang shook her head. “It’s company business—you don’t need to ask.”
Qiao Han didn’t know who Leng Wenning was. “Is she the daughter of one of your group’s shareholders?”
“No.” Qiao Yang briefly mentioned who Leng Wenning’s grandfather and maternal grandfather were.
Qiao Han understood. “I was thinking of helping you vent some anger, but now… why don’t you take it out on me?”
Qiao Yang smiled faintly. “There’s no real anger.”
Some things couldn’t be said aloud. She could only vent to her cousin. “Their taunts don’t bother me—they have connections, after all. What worries me is if they go to Yu Qing and stir trouble. If Yu Qing whispers sweet nothings to Fu Jichen, I’ll be blown away.”
“I’ve dedicated my youth to Fu Corporation since graduation. I arrive at six in the morning and leave late at night. When others are off work, I’m still working. When they’re asleep, I’m still at it. It’s taken so much effort to climb to where I am now. Every day, I tread carefully, fearing that Yu Qing sees me as a thorn in her side.”
She gripped her glass tightly.
Her frustration had nowhere to escape.
Qiao Han reassured her. “If you’ve done nothing wrong, there’s no need to worry. The fact that Fu Jichen entrusted you with such important financial matters speaks volumes. As for Yu Qing…”
He thought for a moment about how to phrase it. “That woman doesn’t even care about Fu Jichen. Aren’t your expectations a little high if you’re hoping to occupy a place in her heart?”
Qiao Yang: “… “
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
________________________________________
Since leaving the bar, Leng Wenning hadn’t said a word. She rested her chin on her hand, staring blankly at the car window.
Her friend was worried and handed her a bottle of water. “Wenning, don’t…”
“Stop talking. I’m thinking,” Leng Wenning interrupted.
Her friend pursed her lips, wisely staying quiet, and gazed out the window.
It was past one in the morning, the moon bright and the stars sparse.
On this weekend, the roads were still bustling with cars rushing to and fro.
The garden of the Yu family villa was lively. Fu Jichen, Yu Jingze, and Ji Qingyuan were playing cards.
All three stood, with an ashtray placed on the garden table and a barstool serving as a makeshift card table.
Ji Qingyuan’s luck was terrible—he’d been losing since the first round.
Fu Jichen organized his cards, confident of victory.
He tapped off some ash and glanced at Ji Qingyuan. “Let me say something you might not like.”
Ji Qingyuan glared at him. “Then why say it?”
Fu Jichen played a card. “Because it makes me happy.”
Ji Qingyuan: “… Shut up.”
The study on the first floor connected to the terrace. After finishing his work, Yu Shaohong stepped out for a cigarette to relax. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him—three figures stood by the garden, the tips of their cigarettes glowing intermittently.
Holding his cigarette, he walked around.
“It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Yu Jingze: “They’ve been eating scrambled eggs with tomatoes all night—they’re too full to sleep, so they dragged me to play cards.”
“…” Yu Shaohong probed cautiously. “So, did they pass the test?”
Fu Jichen and Ji Qingyuan remained silent, taking a drag of their cigarettes and slowly exhaling smoke, seemingly focused on calculating each other’s hands.
Yu Jingze spoke up: “No. They’ve used up all the tomatoes and eggs at home. They plan to go to the supermarket early tomorrow to buy more and continue cooking.”
Yu Shaohong: “… “
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