The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie-Chapter 161 - : 161: The nights Jiang Zhi was pampered (second update

Chapter 161: 161: The nights Jiang Zhi was pampered (second update

Jiang Zhi nodded in satisfaction, “Now you don’t have money to buy the island, huh?”

But he couldn’t let his little ancestor turn into a pauper, he had to secretly save money for her without letting her know, lest she spend it on buying an island.

Of course, he didn’t think they would ever argue, and the possibility of her leaving him to live on the island was minuscule, but… if he didn’t deal with this island, he estimated that he would lose sleep tonight.

“Jiang Zhi.”

“Mmm.”

Zhou Xufang adjusted his pajama collar, her eyes proper, not wandering, she said, “You and Chu Manman are quite alike.”

“Who is Chu Manman?”

Jiang Zhi lay down, squeezing onto the same pillow, tugged on the blanket, and covered her snugly.

Zhou Xufang’s sleeping posture was very honest; she lay straight as a log, her head tilted, looking at Jiang Zhi, a bit tired, her voice soft and tender, “She’s a female protagonist in a manga.” She briefly explained the manga’s content, “She’s the little pampered wife kept by President Gu.”

Jiang Zhi: “…”

He really couldn’t refute that.

Just now, he had indeed asked for a car, a house, and a watch; in serious terms, it was keeping. Well, if it’s keeping let it be, if it’s Zhou Xufang, he could accept it, but—

“Did Lin Wanwan get you into manga again?”

Zhou Xufang wouldn’t let Ah Wan take the blame, she told the truth, “No, I found it myself. This manga is adapted from a novel; it’s very famous.” Talking about her favorite novel, her eyes sparkled, and her tone carried a vicarious pride, “It’s been turned into a TV series too. A friend in the bullet chat told me about the manga and said it was great, so I went to look for it.”

Jiang Zhi asked, “Which novel?”

“”President Gu, Your Little Pampered Wife Has Fled Again”.”

“…”

His household member was really poisoned by this novel.

At midnight, Ah Wan hadn’t slept, staying up waiting for the manga update, then she received a text from her boss, immediately feeling disillusioned!

Ah Wan had saved Jiang Zhi’s contact as: Gorgeous Lunatic.

Gorgeous Lunatic: “There’s an island called Moon Bay, go and contact them, buy it.”

Ah Wan had saved her own contact as: Invincible Man Lin.

Invincible Man Lin: “Boss, why are you buying an island?” In the middle of the night, fussing about buying an island, utterly nonsensical.

Then, no reply came.

This beautiful lunatic was always like this, replied when he wanted, ignored when he didn’t, completely whimsical, it made Ah Wan want to punch him.

Forget it, she continued reading the manga.

At exactly twelve o’clock, the manga updated on time, and the newest chapter went as follows:

The female protagonist, Chu Manman, and the male protagonist, Gu Yingjun, were accompanying a customer hiking, unexpectedly, Chu Manman got lost, Gu Yingjun, frantic, searched half the mountain before he found her.

Then, as it was getting dark, alone with a man, under suspicious circumstances, inflammatory like a blush of fire… that’s impossible. The two sat back-to-back under a tree, watching the stars and the moon, they discussed everything from poetry to philosophy of life.

“President Gu, look, a shooting star!” exclaimed Chu Manman with delight, her charming smile visible under the moonlight.

Male protagonist Gu Yingjun, looking at her enchanting smile, doted, “Silly girl, that’s an airplane.”

“Oh, it’s an airplane,” Chu Manman said, her embarrassed expression still revealed a trace of innocent naivety, cute and adorable, “It’s pretty too.”

Male protagonist Gu Yingjun was utterly captivated by this innocent naivety.

After female protagonist, Chu Manman, fell asleep on Gu Yingjun’s shoulder, he watched her sleeping beauty for a while, then made a call to his secretary.

Gu Yingjun, in his cool, domineering CEO style, said, “Get me ten airplanes, all ready to fly.”

Secretary: “…”

Lunatic!

This masterpiece entitled “Goodnight, President Gu,” was a manga adapted from the novel “President Gu, Your Little Pampered Wife Has Fled Again.”

Upon reading this part of the manga, Ah Wan felt that Jiang Zhi, who wanted to buy an island, and Gu Yingjun, who wanted airplanes, were curiously similar, both having a strong chuunibyou aura.

Ah Wan was deeply embarrassed.

The day after Hua Jun and Hong San were arrested, Jiao Zihao’s wife came to the police station to claim his body.

The funeral was held three days later, that day, it was overcast.

Being an undercover narcotics officer, for fear of involving his family, the funeral was conducted secretly, not even relatives were notified.

The memorial service was set up in the funeral home.

Qiao Nanchu parked his car on the side of the road, just as he got out, he saw an acquaintance.

It was Captain Xiao from the Drug Enforcement Team, dressed in black formal attire, “Why are you here?”

He had brought his uniform with him, in the car, not worn.

Qiao Nanchu walked ahead, and the two entered the funeral home one after the other; he looked back at Captain Xiao, “Aren’t you here too?”

It’s not known whether today was especially busy with funerals, as just upon entering, cries were incessant; Captain Xiao sighed, “It looks like it’s just us two.”

Only the two of them knew, the gangster Ah Hao was an honorable narcotics officer, badge number: 110893.

As they walked further inside, the light dimmed.

Before entering the ancestral hall, Qiao Nanchu paused at the doorway and asked, “Have you summoned them yet?”

Captain Xiao shook his head, “Their lips are sealed.”

Qiao Nanchu took his hands out of his pockets and entered the hall.

No mourners were present, except Jiao Zihao’s wife, Qiu Family, sitting alone on the floor with disheveled hair and swollen, reddened eyes, “Who are you?”

Qiao Nanchu didn’t respond; he placed a white chrysanthemum in front of the memorial tablet, then stood straight and saluted.

Captain Xiao did the same; a white chrysanthemum and a salute.

Qiu propped herself up and wobbled over to the memorial, covering her mouth as she sobbed. “Zihao, your comrades… your comrades are here…”

Captain Xiao looked away, his eyes reddening.

“Condolences.”

In the end, that was all they could offer, those pale four words; anything else felt too light, too stuck in the throat.

Before leaving, Qiu chased after them, asking only one question, “Did Zihao suffer when he passed?”

Captain Xiao bowed his head, silent.

It was Qiao Nanchu who spoke, “No, he didn’t suffer.”

“That’s good… that’s good…”

Qiu murmured a couple of times, sat down, and wept bitterly.

“Uncle.”

An eight-year-old boy stood at the doorway, clutching Qiao Nanchu’s sleeve.

He was tall and stout, resembling his father, “Are you my dad’s friend?”

Qiao Nanchu squatted down, “Yes.”

The little boy looked stubborn, clearly heartbroken, yet clearly trying not to cry, “Then was my dad a bad person?”

Qiao Nanchu shook his head.

He sniffled but still refused to cry, “They say my dad was a big villain, and that’s why he was killed. They’re just talking nonsense, right?”

“Right, they’re talking nonsense.”

Qiao Nanchu, crouching, nearly eye-level with the child, lifted his hand to pat the boy’s head but ended up resting his hand on his shoulder instead.

He told the little boy, “Your dad wasn’t a villain.” His eyes slightly reddened, “He was a hero.”

He lied—his comrade had suffered terribly when he died, cut by many knives, none fatal, almost bled dry.

But he was just a child and he ended up crying.

Crying, he said earnestly, like children do, “When I grow up, I want to be a hero too.”

He wiped away his tears again, gritting his teeth.

His twin sisters were only a month old; now, he would be the head of the family and couldn’t cry anymore; if he did, it would only make his mom sadder.

“Mom.”

The little boy walked into the hall and knelt beside his mother, gently patting her back.

Captain Xiao, covering his eyes, went outside, his fingers damp.

Qiao Nanchu stood outside the hall, not in a hurry to leave, leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette.

At nine in the evening, Wen Baiyang had just finished showering when a message arrived on her phone.

Qiao Nanchu: “I’m at your door.”

He rarely visited her place unless it was something important.

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Wen Baiyang, pulling on a coat over her pajamas, opened the door, “Why are you here?” she asked in sign language.

He stood before her door, his eyes heavy and slightly drunken, “I’m here for tea.”

She moved closer to sniff, “Have you been drinking?”

He laughed, “A little.”

Not just a little—his breath was heavy with alcohol, his eyes dull and listless.

Wen Baiyang stepped aside, “You sit, I’ll make tea.” She hesitated whether to support him.

Qiao Nanchu walked in on his own, his steps… alright, just slightly unsteady. He picked the long couch, lying down straight away, closing his eyes and pinching his brow.

Wen Baiyang returned with the tea only to find him already asleep, the couch slightly too small, fitting awkwardly.

“Brother Chu.”

She couldn’t make any sound, so she set down the teapot and leaned over to nudge Qiao Nanchu’s hand.

He opened his eyes, slightly intoxicated, and his gaze somewhat blurry.

She moved closer, worried he couldn’t see her signing, “Don’t sleep here, you’ll catch a cold.”

He turned over, not getting up, his eyes holding a faint smile that was lazy, watching her, “Worried I’ll catch a cold?”

She nodded.

He placed his hand under his neck, as casual as ever, but his smile faintly joyless, “Then why don’t you get me a blanket?”