Chapter 68

After dinner, Wen Nuan drove Li Jinhe and Lao Wen home, with Han Qian following behind in his own car. The journey was only about ten minutes. On the way back, they picked up Han Qian's mother and father-in-law to return home together. In the car, Li Jinhe asked Wen Nuan when she planned to move back in. Wen Nuan replied that she had no such intention, and upon hearing that, Li Jinhe seemed relieved and said, "That's good."

Back at the neighborhood, Han Qian parked the Panamera outside, waiting for Wen Nuan. When she got in, they swapped seats without a word to each other.

By eight in the evening, the four of them were finally home. The old man went straight to bed, and Han Qian muttered under his breath, "What a great life—no worries at all," only to be smacked on the back by his mother, who told him to rest early.

After his shower, Han Qian stared at the medication his mother had brought from the hospital, feeling a bit embarrassed. She was probably already lying down, and he didn't want to disturb her. He tried several times in front of the mirror but couldn't reach the wound on his back. Bracing himself, he knocked on Wen Nuan's door, poking in half his face with a sheepish grin.

"Hey… could you help me apply some medicine?"

Wen Nuan glanced at him, then lifted her blanket and got out of bed. Seeing this, Han Qian's eyes lit up, and he pushed the door open a little further, grinning wider.

"I felt bad about yelling at you earlier… I'm sorry, okay? Should I go to my room?"

Still silent, Wen Nuan simply pointed at her bed. Han Qian, shirtless, walked in and sat down. Wen Nuan frowned.

"Lie down."

Han Qian hesitated, regretting having teased her at dinner. His mind raced with worries that she might try something unexpected. As Wen Nuan's delicate hands moved over his back, he realized he might have underestimated her sense of calm and decency.

Wen Nuan had no intention of causing trouble. She finished applying the medicine and lightly patted his lower back. "What did you say to Lin Zongheng earlier—about that ten thousand yuan wasted? You two have something shady going on, don't you?"

Han Qian sat up, testing his back, which now felt cool from the medication. With a slight smirk, he said, "You think there's nothing going on between us? Who'd believe that? Do you really think a spoiled rich boy like him would just stand by and watch his beloved little Nuan hanging out with a country bumpkin like me? I was just testing if he was scheming anything behind the scenes. Befriending Guan Dagou is just a precaution against that green-shelled turtle."

Wen Nuan blushed and shyly burrowed under her blanket. Seeing this, Han Qian frowned and teased, "Hey! Don't tell me you only heard the part where I praised you and ignored the rest? Selective hearing, huh?"

"Shut up!"

She glared at him, then lowered her head and muttered, "I'll take Mom and Dad back tomorrow morning. Are you working tomorrow?"

"Depends… Your bed is way more comfortable than my tatami mat."

Han Qian's grin turned impish as he lingered at the edge of the bed. Wen Nuan shifted further under the covers, lifted the blanket, and patted the spot beside her, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on, let's talk in bed."

"Not tonight—next time, next time!" he stammered, retreating hastily. In moments like this, Han Qian always lost his nerve. And besides, he couldn't take her words at face value—if he climbed into that bed now, who knew what might unfold?

Exhausted from the day, Han Qian fell asleep as soon as he lay down. When he next opened his eyes, the sky was already bright. The antique phone on his pillow vibrated incessantly. He answered groggily, eyes still closed. "Hello, Han Qian speaking."

"Uncle, I heard you were hurt! Jiawei and I want to come see you tonight, yeah? Uncle Guan said you gave him your email address, but I didn't get it—those photos are all with me. My dad's been praising you, said you're smart."

Rubbing his eyes, Han Qian frowned at the sound of the young man's cheerful voice. "Aren't you supposed to be in school today?"

"Nope, I'm home getting an IV for my cold! Oh, and my dad was asking if you're going to work today—he wants to meet with you. Should I have Uncle Guan pick you up?"

Han Qian stepped out of his room, spotting that his parents were already gone. "Tell your dad I'm not free. And you—focus on school. Don't get tangled up in your family's mess. Let your dad know he can forget about using you as a pawn."

The boy relayed this word-for-word to Tu Xiao. Han Qian ended the call just as he was about to phone Su Liang. Before he could, Yan Qingqing's call came in—Han Qian considered it, then hung up, tossing the phone on the sofa to change clothes.

When he was ready to leave, Wen Nuan returned, looking disheveled in her pajamas. She glanced at him and then trudged upstairs to catch some extra sleep, not offering any explanation. Han Qian didn't pry—he simply picked up his phone and stepped out.

At the gate, seeing a red Raptor truck, Han Qian immediately turned to head back—Yan Qingqing had shown up out of nowhere! But her high heels clicking behind him made him stop and turn around, bowing theatrically with a shout: "Your humble servant greets Lady Yasha!"

"Enough with the nonsense. Get in the car," she ordered.

Dressed in a black skirt, lettered stockings, and those high heels, Yan Qingqing linked her arm through his and pulled him along. Han Qian bristled, whispering urgently, "We should be mindful of appearances. I'd like to keep living here. Let go, Yan Qingqing!"

"I'm not risking you running off. Yesterday, Qian Ling called about Qian Wan. I told her you were resting. Today she's at the company. And this, my dear ancestor, is a mess I won't be cleaning up for you."

As they walked, neighbors looked on with curious eyes—some recognized Han Qian from his basketball games, shocked and envious that this was the second beautiful woman they'd seen him with in recent weeks. If before they'd been awed by that leggy goddess on the court, today's seductress in heels only deepened the mystery: what exactly was this guy's secret?

While some even debated asking to become his disciple, Han Qian had already climbed into the car, earning a fresh wave of envy. Yan Qingqing handed him a small white bag.

"I know a doctor—he gave me this medicine for your back. He's good, a foreigner who studied Chinese medicine. He's the director at the city hospital."

"A foreigner studying Chinese medicine?" Han Qian muttered suspiciously. "Is it Wang Nan?"

Yan Qingqing slammed on the brakes, turning to him with eyes glinting like cold steel. "You know him? Stay away from him, Han Qian. I don't want to be fighting with Wen Nuan over you and then have to argue with some guy too."

Han Qian smacked his forehead with a groan. "This is a disaster…"