Qi Weiran was silent for a long moment.
“What else has she taught you?”
Qi Xinian thought it over. He decided not to mention the whole ghost-exorcism situation just yet and simply replied:
“Nothing else.”
Qi Weiran paused, then suddenly asked:
“What does she usually do during the day?”
Qi Xinian didn’t think much of the question. His legs clamped together instinctively as he answered with a trace of lingering fear:
“Uncle, whatever you do, don’t mess with that woman.”
“She’s terrifying. She’ll chop off your little wiener!”
Qi Weiran had never heard that term before, but judging from the boy’s body language, he could pretty much guess which body part it referred to.
“...You saw her... chop something?” Qi Weiran’s expression turned complicated.
Qi Xinian nodded, then shook his head.
He’d run away too quickly to witness the full scene.
Even Qi Weiran—who rarely felt discomfort—experienced a rare moment of true headache.
He realized that aside from the shallow background check he’d done before marriage, he knew almost nothing about this woman.
Meanwhile, completely unaware that she’d just been sold out, Ye Qingju was in the living room, devouring food like a starving animal.
Watching her eat, bodyguard Zhang Wei tactfully averted his gaze.
Wan Sui, on the other hand, stood beside her and asked politely:
“Madam, would you like me to brief you on the situation outside?”
Ye Qingju, too busy shoveling food into her mouth, wasn’t especially interested.
After all, when Hei Meilu’s soul had left his body, Xiao Jiji had already whispered excitedly in her head that a “surprise” was coming.
When Ye Qingju didn’t respond, Wan Sui took her silence as permission and began his report:
“We’re not sure how the suspect did it, but he managed to breach the hotel’s entire security system and trap everyone inside.”
“The police were notified and immediately surrounded the building.”
“By the time you called Mr. Qi, he was already on his way.”
Ye Qingju paused mid-bite. No wonder Qi Weiran had shown up so fast.
Everything after that had been a blur.
Qi Weiran had arrived like some kind of hero, leading his private task force to assist the police in securing the scene and subduing the mentally unstable assailant.
Why the police couldn’t handle the situation on their own—and why a private military unit was even necessary?
Don’t ask. The answer was simply: “He’s the CEO who controls the global economy. Of course he can do that.”
Just as Ye Qingju was about to stuff an entire soup dumpling in her mouth, a system alert chimed in her head.
She froze. The dumpling hovered mid-air.
And that was the scene Qi Weiran walked into: Ye Qingju hunched over, eyes fixed with eerie intensity on the dumpling in her plate.
Wan Sui, who’d been observing her the whole time, had a complicated look in his eyes.
Do you love him that much, Ye Qingju?
As if just realizing Qi Weiran was there, Ye Qingju stood up immediately—no longer sparing even a glance for her food.
Every inch of her focus was locked on the man in front of her.
【Oh, my beloved baozi—wait for me! I swear I’ll return to you and our unborn child!】 (t/n: "baozi" literally means dumpling, a pet name; she's dramatically imagining herself leaving her food like a tragic heroine)
Qi Weiran: “......”
Even if he could read her thoughts, what good did it do?
She left him speechless all the same.
“Sir...” Ye Qingju looked up at him with teary eyes, her expression dripping with devotion.
Unmoved, Qi Weiran handed her the sleeping Qi Xinian.
“Have the ox warrior take off his mask.”
Then he brushed past her without another word.
Ye Qingju stood there, stunned, cradling the boy.
“What ox warrior?” she mumbled, confused.
【You’re a grown man and still watching cartoons? Shame on you, Qi Weiran.】
Qi Weiran’s steps halted.
Slowly, he turned. His amber eyes locked onto her slender figure, now wrapped in a loose hoodie instead of her usual white dress.
“Qi Xinian doesn’t need a tutor anymore. You teach him.”
Ye Qingju turned, stunned, staring at him in disbelief.
Qi Weiran’s lips curved—just barely.
“If you can’t do it, I’ll find a new wife to inherit my estate.”
The words sent shockwaves through the room.
Everyone froze in place—except Wan Sui, who alone caught the fleeting, mischievous smirk on Qi Weiran’s lips.
Since following Qi Weiran, he’d never once seen the man smile.
And this? This was a “teen boy in love” kind of smirk.
Once that image took root, Wan Sui started eyeing his boss with barely concealed horror.
Goosebumps erupted across his entire body.
After Qi Weiran left, Ye Qingju had half a mind to put the kid down and unleash a furious air-punching combo to vent.
But before she could act, a group of suited men—armed, highly trained—appeared and surrounded her in complete silence.
One glance at the strange avian symbol on their lapels—a bird with a human face—and she immediately looked away.
The Human-Faced Kunpeng.
It was the Qi family’s crest.
These men were sent by Qi Weiran to protect her and Qi Xinian.
Once she calmed down, she adjusted her hold on the boy and walked steadily toward the exit.
She knew Qi Weiran’s threat was only half-serious.
Outside, a crowd had already gathered. If it weren’t for the police controlling the scene, the press—who’d been camped here for hours—would’ve swarmed in.
Qi Weiran’s men shielded her so thoroughly, not even a strand of hair peeked out.
Under this heavy protection, Ye Qingju climbed into the car with Qi Xinian in her arms, perfectly composed.
He was doing it for Qi Xinian’s safety. She knew this kind of treatment wasn’t meant for her.
Xiao Jiji wanted to ask: Then why didn’t Qi Weiran carry the boy himself?
But in the end, it kept its mouth shut.
With Qi Weiran not in the car, Ye Qingju no longer had to play her part.
She leaned her head against the window, eyes unfocused, mind adrift.
From the moment Qi Weiran “threatened” her, oddly enough, she hadn’t felt fear.
If anything, she’d felt a strange kind of... relief.
A normal person, married to a billionaire they didn’t love, and then inheriting his fortune after his death—who wouldn’t be grinning ear to ear?
But ever since she realized that Qi Weiran’s body was practically indestructible—getting stronger every day—her dream of being a rich young widow had started to fade.
It wasn’t until his little coughing spell the other day that she remembered: Oh right, I’ve got a whole fortune waiting in the afterlife.
She’d asked Xiao Jiji about it, and according to the original plotline, Ye Qingju had died in her early forties—of a broken heart and lifelong misery.
She died before Qi Weiran.
Knowing what fate awaited her if she followed the “OOC-is-a-sin” system to the letter, Ye Qingju swore she’d never end up like that.
She couldn’t keep going like this.
Even if it was just to save her future self—she had to start making money.
She glanced in the rearview mirror at the driver, who was focused on the road.
Using Qi Xinian’s body as cover, she quietly pulled out a small, cheap flip phone from her pocket.
Being a rich man's wife hadn’t been for nothing.
Most industries were oversaturated under the Qi Group’s global dominance—but there was still one niche Ye Qingju knew about that the Qi family didn’t care about at all.
And, coincidentally, it just happened to be her area of expertise.
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