When Han Qian awoke after a night on the sofa, his body ached in protest. What pained him even more, though, was that the bedding he hadn't even touched had already been claimed. His phone—warm and insistent—had roused him before dawn with its ceaseless ringing.
Half-asleep, he fumbled for it and answered the call. On the other end came the roaring voice of Li Jinhe, equal parts Buddhist lion's roar and affectionate maternal scolding. Her message, though wrapped in fury, was unmistakable: "If you sneak off to Washington, don't bother calling me your mother—I'll skin you alive when you get back!"
When her tirade ended, Han Qian murmured softly,"Mom, it's me—Han Qian. Wen Nuan's here with me."
Beep.The call ended abruptly.
Staring blankly at his phone, Han Qian was still processing when a text arrived:"Old Wen and I are off traveling. Xiao Nuan will stay at your place. I'm at ease with that. And don't even think of calling me—next time I see you, I'll unleash my military boxing."
Han Qian blinked at the screen. His mother-in-law didn't seem the least bit concerned about Wen Nuan. Then again, after living together for three years, perhaps there wasn't much left to worry about.
As Han Qian stood in a daze, Wen Nuan descended from the second floor—wearing the pajamas he hadn't yet worn and having slept under the bedding he never got the chance to use.
She looked perfectly at ease, calmly surveying the room before retrieving a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. Sitting beside Han Qian, she tilted her head and asked playfully,"Checking my phone? Funny how you never did that before we divorced. You never even questioned my calls with Lin Zongheng. Why now? Want me to help?"
Han Qian turned to her unwashed face and inhaled deeply, eyes closed."Wen Nuan, if you dare drink again, I swear I'll—"
"I'm hungry, Han Qian."
Deliberately steering the conversation away from alcohol, Wen Nuan grabbed her phone, unblocked Lin Zongheng in front of him, and tossed the phone onto the sofa before skipping off to wash up.
Watching her retreating figure, Han Qian felt bewildered. Divorced for less than a day, and already cohabiting again?
From the bathroom, her cheerful humming echoed out. Han Qian rose and headed for the kitchen, grateful he had prepped ingredients the night before—otherwise, they'd be stuck with instant noodles. As he prepared a traditional Chinese breakfast, he relayed her mother's words.
"Mom and Old Wen are traveling. They took the house keys. She wants you to stay here. If you mind—"
"I don't mind. It's not like we haven't lived together before. Hurry up though—I've got work today."
Her brazen indifference made Han Qian want to charge into the bathroom, frying pan in hand.
What was this situation?
The marriage—ended.The contract—breached.A four-million yuan debt—on his shoulders.And now, they were living together again?
His rational mind screamed resistance. He had to draw a line. He exhaled and declared,"Wash up quickly. I've got to head out too—got a job interview today."
From the bathroom, Wen Nuan peeked out, eyebrows raised."You did my laundry last night after coming home? Maybe you should just be my housekeeper instead of getting a job!"
Han Qian snapped back,"Right, so I can watch my ex-wife and her old flame cozy up every day? Even if it was a contractual marriage, I've still got some pride left as a man!"
"Old flame? You mean Lin Zongheng? Are you jealous, Han Qian?"
She smirked mischievously. Han Qian ignored her, but that only made her more curious. She clasped her hands behind her back, leaned toward him with a grin, and asked teasingly,"Jealous? This morning you checked my phone and didn't even flinch at Lin Zongheng's name in the blacklist. You are jealous, aren't you? Han Qian, do you like me?"
He said nothing.
Wen Nuan pressed on. As he carried the breakfast out of the kitchen, she suddenly called out,"Han Qian! If you admit you're jealous, I'll give up on Lin Zongheng!"
"Yes! I'm jealous! But what matters now is breakfast, got it? And the utterly miserable reality is—I'm taking care of you again."
"That's your privilege. You have no idea how many men tried to hit on me at the bar last night—well, never mind, let's eat!"
Neither of them seemed to notice something quite significant—
The dynamic between them had changed since the divorce.
Han Qian no longer treaded around her with reverence.Wen Nuan no longer treated him like a servant.She avoided his questions about the bar, yet his admission of jealousy lifted her spirits. The gloom vanished. She felt no resistance to living here again.And Han Qian's heart?Was screaming.
That four million felt heavier than the weight of Zhao Si's father's death.
But debts still had to be paid.
This was something his old man had drilled into him since childhood: A man need not be rich or invincible—but he must be true to his word. A promise spoken is a nail driven.
His father hadn't taught him much—only two things.
Responsibility.And an obsession with cleanliness.
Eggs, pickled vegetables, millet porridge.
When it came to breakfast, whether during their marriage or now, Wen Nuan never had a say. She had preferred milk, bread, and bitter coffee, but after three years, Han Qian had made her accustomed to steamed buns and porridge. Even her coffee had been replaced by milk.
As they ate, Han Qian received a message from Glory Group. They were available for an in-person meeting today—a response he had hoped for. He dreaded long email interrogations. A face-to-face was always more manageable.
After breakfast, Wen Nuan shouted that she was going to be late, clearly trying to avoid dish duty. Han Qian saw through it but didn't bother arguing. He washed the dishes, changed clothes, and headed out to meet his new challenge.
The mountain of debt hadn't cast a shadow over his life. On the contrary—it spurred him to work harder. Gone were the days of idle leisure.
Taxi? Too extravagant.He boarded the bus, swaying and jolting all the way to Glory Group's towering headquarters.
As he stepped off and looked up at the high-rise, he found something odd—why was the plaza outside empty during working hours? And what was with the sign?
"Watch for vehicles from both sides?"Placed oddly, he thought.
Drawing a deep breath, he squared his shoulders—only for a blazing red Raptor to tear past, grazing his nose.
His confidence shattered in an instant.
By the time he recovered, the Raptor had come to a halt in the distance. A woman emerged—tight black pencil skirt, stiletto heels nearly eight centimeters high. Her figure was stunning, her attire bold, but to Han Qian, she was merely the lunatic who had nearly killed him.
Before he could confront her, the voluptuous woman dashed gracefully into the company building.
Han Qian rubbed his chin, frowning to himself.
"That woman… definitely looks like trouble."