Chapter Forty-Four: An After-Dinner Stroll

Chen Ying still felt a bit embarrassed. Although the two young girls kindly invited her to join them at the table, she was well aware of her own position.

It was never quite proper for someone whose status was unclear to dine with guests.

“Aunt Chen, he’s really not an outsider. Come and eat with us,” Yu Qian also called out for her to sit.

“No, you have guests. It’s not appropriate for me to join,” Chen Ying hesitated, but still refused.

Zhou Jingchen looked up and fixed his gaze on her. Under his cold and intimidating stare, Chen Ying felt uncomfortable all over.

After observing for a few minutes, Zhou Jingchen seemed to understand the housekeeper’s character—kind and proper.

He followed Yu Qian’s lead and said, “Aunt Chen, come eat with us. Qian is right, I’m not an outsider. Besides, I’ll probably be coming over for meals often in the future—are you planning to avoid me every time?”

Chen Ying looked helplessly at Yu Qian, and, seeing her nod, finally fetched a bowl and chopsticks and sat down.

Once everyone was seated, Yu Qian called for the meal to begin and started eating.

Chen Ying’s cooking was delicious, and her taste matched perfectly with Wenxiu’s, so every meal felt like a battle—if you didn’t move quickly, you wouldn’t get your favorite dishes.

Watching the two girls fight over food, Zhou Jingchen was amused. Two little brats.

Not yet used to the strong flavors of Sichuan cuisine and with little appetite, Zhou Jingchen nonetheless joined in with a smile, helping Yu Qian grab food. Very quickly, her bowl was piled high, and she stopped reaching for more, focusing on what she already had.

Wenxiu bared her teeth. “Unfair! You even have help now!”

“Nyah-nyah-nyah, come bite me if you can~”

Yu Qian’s adorable antics filled Zhou Jingchen’s heart with joy, the smile in his eyes impossible to hide.

But Chen Ying, who’d seen more of the world, was unnerved by his looks and gestures.

A seventeen-year-old boy, showing such affection for a twelve-year-old girl.

Thinking of those stories about pedophilia she’d heard, Chen Ying wondered if she should warn Wen Yu to be careful.

Meanwhile, Zhou Jingchen, focused only on tending to his future bride, had no idea he was already being mistaken for a deviant.

...

After dinner, there wasn’t much to do.

Yu Qian didn’t feel like watching TV, so she tugged Zhou Jingchen outside. “Wenxiu, Aunt Chen, Zhou Jingchen and I are going for a walk to digest. We’ll be back soon.”

“Alright, don’t be too long,” Wenxiu replied, eyes never leaving her documents.

Chen Ying opened her mouth to say something, but ultimately just watched the two holding hands as they walked out.

“Aunt Chen, there’s nothing to worry about. Those two know their boundaries,” Wenxiu suddenly said, startling Chen Ying nearly out of her seat.

“Don’t treat them as children. Their minds might be more mature than many adults.” Wenxiu propped her chin on her hand, her smile carrying a hint of meaning.

“But Miss Yu is only twelve,” Chen Ying said, still a bit worried.

“Physically twelve, mentally twenty-two. Relax, nothing will happen. And if anything does, I’ll be the first to deal with him,” Wenxiu replied darkly, cracking her knuckles.

Although Chen Ying still felt something was off, Wenxiu’s confidence put her slightly more at ease.

Beneath the evening clouds, Yu Qian strolled around the villa district with Zhou Jingchen.

He tried to hold her hand, but Yu Qian refused. “Keep your hands to yourself, you’re still on probation. Besides, I’m only twelve. Why hold hands?”

He smiled indulgently and gave up, but still followed close behind.

“How are things at your company?” she asked.

“It’s going well. The game passed review and now we’re preparing for the closed beta.”

“You never told me what kind of game it is!”

She turned to face him as they walked.

“Role-playing, ancient fantasy MMO.”

That description sounded familiar to Yu Qian.

“‘Ethereal Spirits.’ Have you played it?”

Played it? How could she not have!

She almost blurted it out.

In her previous life, she’d played that game with her roommate from freshman year through graduation and work, only gradually quitting as life got busier.

Noticing her slightly awkward expression, Zhou Jingchen immediately guessed she must have played it.

“I turned it from 2.5D to 3D. You can customize your character’s face now.” As he spoke, he reached out and pinched her cheek.

“Talk with your mouth, not with your hands!” She glared at him, covering her face.

“I only used my hands, not my feet.”

She glared again. Shameless!

“Wasn’t that NetEase’s game? Did you steal it?”

“No, I bought the novel’s copyright.” Unable to resist, he ruffled her hair again—so soft.

“Stop it!” Yu Qian stepped away. “Impressive, you’ve got money for copyrights now. Yunbo must be doing well.”

“Yeah, enough to support you.”

“I don’t need you to support me—I have money myself.”

“Alright, alright, then you support me.”

Yu Qian was momentarily speechless, head down, saying nothing as she walked. Zhou Jingchen quickened his pace to follow, step for step.

They wandered home in silence. Zhou Jingchen didn’t enter; he just patted her head and said softly, “See you on a rainy day.”

She nodded, watching him unlock the door to the villa next door before turning back inside.

Wenxiu had already gone upstairs, and Chen Ying sat uneasily in front of the TV, glancing at the door every so often.

She was worried about the young mistress of the house—good jobs with generous employers were rare, and if anything happened, she’d lose her position.

“Aunt Chen, I’m back,” Yu Qian called as she changed her shoes.

Chen Ying sprang up, relieved. “Good, you’re back, you’re back.”

Yu Qian cast her a puzzled look but said nothing. She poured herself a glass of hot water, drank it, and headed upstairs to wash up. A whole round outside had left her sweaty and uncomfortable.

“Oh, right—Aunt Chen, I want hotpot when it rains,” Yu Qian called out halfway up the stairs, recalling how Zhou Jingchen had said he’d spent a whole semester in the provincial capital without once trying Sichuan’s famous hotpot. She wanted some too.

“Alright, we’ll have hotpot on a rainy evening,” Chen Ying replied, finally relaxing as Yu Qian went upstairs.

After her shower, Yu Qian opened her computer and logged onto Yunbo. It had been ages since she’d posted anything—no videos, photos, or even text. Her last post was on Lantern Festival.

The comments under that post had surpassed seventy thousand, all begging for updates.

Cola or Not Cola: “Little Princess, you still haven’t posted your Chang’e Flies to the Moon painting! Please update soon!”

Hahahaha Burp: “Fourth month with no updates from the Little Princess. I miss her.”

isnnk: “After watching that so-called ancient beauty’s classical dance, my eyes hurt. Came back to the Little Princess’s videos to cleanse my eyes.”

First Heart: “Don’t mention it. She’s trending every day, supposedly supremely talented. What a joke.”

Fu Nianhua: “No idea how she has the nerve to send press releases belittling others. She can barely bend backward and claims to have studied classical dance since childhood. That ancient beauty is just fooling her brainless fans.”

…

Seeing these top comments, Yu Qian was puzzled. What was going on?

She clicked into the comments—most agreed with the main posts.

She hadn’t followed the entertainment world for half a year—where had this ‘ancient beauty’ come from? Judging by the backlash, she must have bought too many press releases and trended too much.

Raising her eyebrows, she found a link among the fan comments and clicked in. Less than thirty seconds into the so-called ‘ancient beauty’s’ classical dance video, Yu Qian’s face looked as though she’d eaten something rotten. She closed it immediately.

Shallowwaterfish_v replied to isnnk: “[Fist bump] Truly an eyesore.” // isnnk: “After watching that so-called ancient beauty’s classical dance, my eyes hurt. Came back to the Little Princess’s videos to cleanse my eyes.”