Sweet Wife in My Arms

Chapter 152



She looked up, and was startled to see that Liang Chen had walked over without her noticing, and was now standing right next to her. Liang Chen’s face was so close now Yan Huan could see the thick layer of makeup on her face. The makeup disguised her real age, but it also made her face look slightly unnatural.

The woman was beautiful, but she could not stop the onward march of time.

“Is this your cat?”

Liang Chen lifted Little Bean from Yan Huan’s arms. Little Bean meowed once, and then obediently settled in Liang Chen’s arms, too lazy to move.

“Yup, this is my cat, Little Bean,” said Yan Huan as she toyed with Little Bean’s tail.

Liang Chen was also a cat person. She gently caressed Little Bean’s fluffy head. “Why don’t you let me have Little Bean for a few days? I could use a cat to get rid of the unruly mice infesting my place right now.”

“Let’s go catch those rats! What do you say?” Liang Chen squeezed Little Bean’s fleshy paws. Before Yan Huan could reply, Liang Chen had already sauntered off with Little Bean in her arms.

Yan Huan had wanted to tell Liang Chen that Little Bean was a terrible prey: the cat was simply too lazy and timid to catch mice. But she thought better of it, and instead sent Little Bean’s cat food and litter box over to Liang Chen’s place.

That evening, Liang Chen snapped photos of herself and Little Bean. She promptly uploaded the photos to her Weibo.

Her caption read: “I’m sleeping with a handsome stud today.” She was referring to Little Bean.

“But Little Bean is female!” Yi Ling had been browsing Liang Chen’s Weibo while eating. In her indignation at Little Bean being mistaken for a boy, she lost her grip on her spoon, and it clattered onto the table. She immediately regretted not giving her food and her full, undivided attention; she was still in the middle of her meal, and now she had wasted a spoonful of her food.

Yi Ling wondered whether to share the Weibo post. She thought about it long and hard, and finally pressed the “Share” button. The star of the post was not Liang Chen, or Yan Huan, but Little Bean: a cat that was lucky enough to be hugged by an A-list, internationally renowned super star such as Liang Chen. Not only that, Little Bean would also be sharing the bed with Liang Chen—he was truly the luckiest cat in the world.

It was the weekend. The clock struck nine o’clock in the evening; a short ad played on all the major TV stations: “Up next, Journey to Fairyland! Stay tuned!”

Yan Boxuan tossed his carrying pole to the ground and sat heavily on a nearby patch of grass. He was frustrated: why had the sect master accepted him as a disciple, and then refused to teach him any of the magic arts? All his sect brothers were busy cultivating and practicing the magic arts, but Yan Boxuan had been instructed to work on menial tasks such as fetching water from the well, growing vegetables, doing the laundry, and cleaning the latrines. He wondered if he would be stuck doing mundane work for the rest of his days. He was never going to be able to get off the mountain and avenge the deaths of his parents at this rate.

At that moment, a flying sword flew into view. There was someone standing on it.

Yan Boxuan looked enviously at the flying sword. He wondered how long it would take for him to learn the art of zipping across the sky on a flying sword.

The sword was heading straight for him.

His envy instantly turned into panicked terror. He hastily stepped backwards, but lost his balance and fell on his behind with a loud thump.

A girl dressed in white leapt from the flying sword to stand before him. It was Qing Yao.

“Senior Sister…”

Yan Boxuan stood up quickly, brushing the dust out of his clothes. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he took a hasty step backwards. He seemed to be afraid that the unpredictable girl standing before him would strip him naked again without warning.

“You were in the middle of fetching water?” Qing Yao asked.

“Yeah.” Yan Boxuan smiled sheepishly.

“I see…” Qing Yao looked him over. Yan Boxuan broke out in a cold sweat at the way she seemed to be appraising him.

 


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