Translated by newbienoona
Edited and proofread by anks
The middle-aged woman hears Han QIlu and immediately nods. “Go ahead while I look for the key. I’ll put it on the counter.”
Her ugly smile makes An Chuxia sick. She looks indifferently at the landlady as she runs out of the fruit shop to find the key. Suddenly, Han Qilu’s warm hand wraps around her cold hand. He closes in and bends at the waist to kiss her superficially on the lips. He leans to her ear and says, “Future Han Group’s President’s wife, your lips are quite sweet.”
Her face becomes flush. She looks at him and takes advantage of the opportunity to kick
his foot. She doesn’t hit him hard, but he grimaces in pain.
“Hey! You’re calling for the murder of your husband?” He purses his lips in discontent as An Chuxia giggles. He turns his head and sees the landlady with the keys.
“This is the key to the room. I won’t walk you back. No one would be able to tend to the customers.” Her appearance changes arbitrarily, exaggerating her docile behavior in front of Chuxia.
Qilu takes the key from the landlady and stares straight into her eyes. He pulls out a blank check from his pocket and writes a series of digits. He throws the pen down and the check on the
the ground. “Thank you for taking care of my fiancée. This is your earning.”
The landlady picks up the check from the ground. Her mouth opens as she sees enough zeroes to open a dozen fruit shops. No, a dozen of very large fruit shops.
“Let’s go, my dear.” Han Qilu pulls An Chuxia’s slender wrist as he turns away. His vision is bright, but no one sees his look that kills. This is his last compensation to this woman because she’ll soon leave this world! If she wants to insult An Chuxia, she must pay the price!
They return to the rented room. As Han Qilu opens the the door, she suddenly feels so
feels so uncomfortable. She asks, “Han Qilu, are you sick?”
Han Qilu opens the door without disregard. Without thinking, he enters the room, hitting his head on the top of the door frame. He utters loudly, “Ouch! How low is this door frame?”
Chuxia rolls her eyes at him. “Do you think we, poor people, live like your family? When you pass through the door, you must duck. This teaches you to lower your head in the appropriate time!” She shoves Han Qilu in the room. The house has a pleasant scent. It smells like the fragrant camphor tree.
Since she left in a hurry, the room hasn’t had much dust settle. However, its appearance is its appearance is empty. He lowers his head and discovers the apartment unexpectedly only has two rooms: a bathroom and a bedroom. The bedroom has the gas oven!
Sizing up the room, he deduces the kitchen and the bedroom are merged. She actually grew up in such surroundings. Despite being small, it’s arranged in a way it feels uncrowded. They arrive at the table. He realizes the only other furniture are the two stools.
He becomes melancholic as he imagines An Chuxia eating a meal on this table, sleeping on this table.
“I’m sorry.” An Chuxia turns her head to Han Qilu. I’m sorry? Why does he suddenly feel the need to say sorry?