Chapter Sixteen: My Dear Little Teacher, Do You Like It?
The curtains blocked out the sun, allowing only a few faint rays of light to pass through.
The room was so quiet that you could hear the ticking of the second hand.
Wen Jing drew back the curtains, letting the sunlight stream in and fall on the sleeping Song Nian'an's face.
He suddenly sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then fell back asleep.
I stayed up very late last night working on the design draft. I don't know what's wrong with Wen Siyan lately, he's been assigning a lot of difficult group assignments, and Cheng Letian is unreliable, so I have to stay up all night to work on it myself.
"Get up, Nian'an."
Wen Jing's familiar voice was indeed the most effective stimulant for him, even stronger than coffee.
"Okay, get up." Song Nian'an yawned and leaned against the bed, explaining with a sleepy look on her face, "I stayed up late last night working on a design and didn't come to sleep until three o'clock."
Looking at Wen Jing's clean hair, she must have finished her run and taken a shower.
He stared at Wen Jing's face, lost in thought. Wen Jing looked exceptionally energetic, and the air conditioning on his white shirt revealed glimpses of his abs through the buttons.
Just then, Wen Jing glanced at him and their eyes met.
Song Nian'an sighed inwardly, "Her beauty is truly captivating."
This made Wen Jing laugh.
"You think I look delicious?"
"What??" Song Nian'an didn't know if he was still half asleep or hadn't heard clearly. Wen Jing asked him if it tasted good.
Wen Jing turned to the side and unbuttoned Song Nian'an's pajamas. His fingertips accidentally brushed against Song Nian'an's collarbone, making the hot-blooded young man lose all interest in anything else early in the morning.
Just when Song Nian'an thought there would be a next step, Wen Jing told him, "Change your clothes, get up and have breakfast."
Song Nian'an only wanted to repeat himself.
Wake up! What are you even expecting? You should be used to it by now!
Wen Jing showed a hint of helplessness.
The two went downstairs one after the other, and after sitting down at the dining table, Wen Jing handed him a glass of iced Americano.
It was around ten o'clock, and the lazy sunlight shone on the dining table. For a moment, Song Nian'an felt envious of Wen Jing's ex.
Behind his indifferent gaze were deep-set eyes, and whenever he looked at someone, there was always an attraction that bound him tightly.
The two sat side by side, and with one turn of the head, one could see Wen Jing's jawline and the faint scent of shower gel on his body.
Song Nian'an held a coffee cup, his smiling eyes reflected in the coffee.
After finishing breakfast, the two tidied up the table and prepared to visit their grandmother.
Song Nian'an stood at the door, fumbling with his purse. He blinked and glanced at Wen Jing instinctively. "Excuse me, I don't think I brought my phone. Could you wait a moment?"
Before he could go back to look for her, Wen Jing strode into the house, her long legs carrying her across the stairs, and dialed his number on her phone.
I found it under the pillow in the bedroom, following the sound of the phone ringing.
Wen Jing's lips curved into a small smile as she looked at the caller ID on her phone, a feeling of boundless joy spreading through her heart.
Song Nian'an stood outside with his back to the door, hands behind his back, basking in the sunlight.
A large hand blocked his eyes, and a voice came from behind him, "Too bright, it will hurt your eyes."
She then took his hand and walked straight to the car.
After getting into the car, Wen Jing handed his phone to Song Nian'an and stared at him.
"What's wrong? Is there something on my face?"
Song Nian'an thought she had eaten breakfast, so she licked her lips with her tongue.
"I got your phone for you, shouldn't you say something to me?"
Song Nian'an spoke softly, "Ah... um... thank you."
"Thank you, who?" Wen Jing narrowed his eyes and raised his voice.
Song Nian'an's ears turned red, and she slightly raised her eyes to look at Wen Jing, "Thank you, husband."
Looking at his shy expression and hearing the loud cheers and screams around her, Wen Jing put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him into her embrace.
He took out his phone, opened the contact list, and seemingly intentionally placed the screen between the two of them, changing Song Nian'an's name to "Dear Little Mr."
He leaned closer to Song Nian'an and asked gently, "Wife, do you like this name?"
【My dear little gentleman, I love him! More than just love him!】
For a moment, Song Nian'an could hardly control her heartbeat and breathing, and after a long while, she managed to squeeze out a sentence, "It's...okay."
Wen Jing had already heard everything clearly; he was just saying one thing and meaning another.
After the car entered the garden villa, Song Nian'an got out of the car.
I wasn't as nervous seeing my grandmother this time. Fortunately, there are still people in the Wen family who genuinely hope that he and Wen Jing can be happy.
Wen Jing took Song Nian'an's hand, their fingers threading through the gaps in their bones, their ten fingers intertwined tightly.
Walking through the garden and into the house, we found that, apart from the elders of the Wen family, Grandpa, Grandma and Wen Siyan were all sitting together drinking tea.
"Grandpa, Grandma," Wen Jing called out to the two elders in front of her, holding Song Nian'an's hand.
Wen Liansheng remained unchanged, his expression showing no emotion whatsoever. He simply nodded slightly, gesturing for them to sit down.
Grandma was different. She beckoned Song Nian'an to sit next to her and said, "Nian'an, come and tell Grandma how you two have been doing lately."
An old man to the right rear spoke in a sarcastic tone, "Madam Wen, this is not in accordance with the rules. Only direct descendants can sit next to the head of the table."
Song Nian'an took a step back, instinctively wanting to hide.
Song Nian'an was actually mentally prepared for this situation, after all, given her lowly status, it was only natural that she would be ostracized by the Wen family.
However, I wonder if doing this would offend Wen Jing.
Song Nian'an straightened up and sat down in front of her grandmother.
"you.."
"Second Uncle, I am now Wen Jing's legal wife, and the legitimate wife. According to you, if the legitimate wife can sit in this position, then Grandma Wen is also Mr. Wen's wife, so shouldn't she also be unable to sit in this position?"
No one present expected this timid young man to talk back to his second uncle like that, and they were all very displeased.
Wen Jing was quite satisfied. When he first met Song Nian'an and saw him confronting Shen Zhuangyue, he was immediately impressed by his unyielding nature.
The fourth uncle, who was sitting to the left and behind, couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed his hand on the table and pointed at Song Nian'an, saying, "I think you've broken the rules. The elders of the Wen family are giving us a lecture, and you can't act recklessly in front of them."
Song Nian'an remained calm, unfazed by her fourth uncle's words. Instead, she casually remarked, "Fourth Uncle is right. Nian'an will definitely pay more attention in the future."
I thought he would continue to argue back, but to my surprise, Song Nian'an obediently held back.
Judging by the situation, Song Nian'an was sensible enough. She had already confronted her second uncle once, and if she continued to act recklessly, she would really be accused of insubordination, which would not look good.
Uncle Si paused for a moment before realizing what was happening, and swallowed back the words he was about to say.
Grandma touched Song Nian'an's hand, her face full of smiles, and then turned to the group of elderly people and said, "You've all scared my granddaughter-in-law. Stop thinking about your rigid rules all day long. My granddaughter-in-law can do whatever she wants, right, Nian'an?"
After saying that, Grandma stood up. "Come on, Wenjing, let's go upstairs to talk. We won't stay with these stubborn old folks."
Wen Jing and Song Nian'an helped the grandmother upstairs.
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