Chapter 49 The Wife "My wife, she's sleeping upstairs."...
The night was quiet.
They kissed passionately for a long time, their fragrance lingering like an untangled ball of yarn. Finally, Zhang Minglang stopped, relying on a sliver of reason.
“It’s too late,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Sleep here.”
Tang Yi breathed softly, then looked up at him, her tone playful: "And you? Where do you sleep?"
"Don't provoke me, Tang Yi."
Zhang Minglang finally raised his hands in surrender. His chest heaved. Although it was already an autumn night, his forehead was covered with beads of sweat, clearly as he struggled to suppress some kind of impulse.
Tang Yi raised an eyebrow, deciding to let him off the hook.
With a blush, Zhang Minglang ordered her underwear and toiletries via express delivery, and pulled out a long shirt that he didn't often wear from the closet for her.
"I don't wear this often. If you mind, I'll go buy another one..."
“I don’t mind,” Tang Yi said, leaning against the door, one hand on the doorknob and the other taking the clothes.
Her hair was flowing smoothly down her back. Zhang Minglang stretched out a finger, wrapped it around a small clump of her hair, and played with it on his fingertip.
"I'm in the room next to yours. You can come anytime you want to see me."
His voice was low, as if he was completely absorbed in playing with her hair.
Tang Yi nodded.
The two people faced each other, separated by half a door, and even though they didn't say a word, they didn't feel awkward.
Zhang Minglang seemed to have finally convinced himself. He sighed in resignation and looked up at her: "I don't want to leave, but you need to rest."
He reached out and cupped Tang Yi's head, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, as if stamping her forehead.
Goodnight, girlfriend.
A light drizzle fell, and the temperature dropped sharply.
The raindrops clung to the windowpane, spraying upwards and forming a thin mist.
Zhang Minglang got up very early, simply because he had tossed and turned almost all night without sleeping.
Since he couldn't sleep anyway, he simply got up, washed up, and headed straight to the gym.
After sweating profusely, he took a shower, grabbed a bathrobe from the closet, and loosely tied it around his waist.
Zhang Minglang stared at the changing numbers on the elevator screen, feeling his sense of smell become incredibly sharp, as if the entire elevator was filled with the scent of apples.
He naturally thought of Tang Yi, and the corners of his lips unconsciously curved upwards.
Whether it was her profile as she pretended to be drunk and buried her face in the sofa, or her making a pact with him in the room, he found her both beautiful and adorable.
He could still recall every feeling from that kiss in the corner of the sofa.
With their backs to their colleagues, they secretly and passionately kissed, suppressing the sounds of their undulating lips.
etc......
colleague? !
Zhang Minglang suddenly raised his head, and the elevator door reflected his wide-eyed surprise.
Last night I was so busy being all lovey-dovey with Tang Yi that I completely forgot there was a bunch of drunk colleagues huddled on the sofa!
He acted decisively, reaching out and slamming the elevator button. The elevator doors slowly opened, and he strode out, entering the living room.
The living room was deserted, and the table was neatly tidied up. Only the lingering aroma of strong liquor remained in the air.
He put one hand on his hip and stared blankly at the empty living room in front of him.
His phone rang, and he picked it up. Cheng He and Li Da had sent him messages almost simultaneously.
[I'm not a seedling: Happy birthday, bro! I'm off now, I have to catch the high-speed train...]
[I'm not a seedling: I'm really out of ideas, I should have known better than to drink that lousy liquor]
Li Da, on the other hand, seemed to have been pushed forward to speak. He typed a few lines stiffly and politely, essentially apologizing for getting drunk and staying at President Zhang's house all night. He said the house had been cleaned up and all his colleagues had left.
Zhang Minglang lowered his head, typed "It's nothing," put away his phone, walked to the refrigerator, and opened the door.
It was as if Cheng He had remotely installed a surveillance device on him, and just then, a message came through.
[I'm not a seedling: Dude, I still remember what Tang Yi said, she took the iced milk from the fridge with her, hehe!]
Zhang Minglang chuckled and reached out to close the refrigerator door.
He sat half-sitting at the dining table, his hands resting on the marble surface. The sudden coldness made him abruptly pull his hands back.
My fingers tapped the glass on the table, making a crisp sound, like a bird's song suddenly breaking the silence of a forest.
That was the cup Tang Yi drank from yesterday.
With this memory and understanding, Zhang Minglang stretched out his arm, steadily held the cup in his hand, and held it up to his eyes, turning it around to look at it.
I've never noticed before, this cup is quite unique in appearance.
The doorbell rang. He quietly put down the cup, propped himself up, and went to open the door.
A worker in overalls stood at the door, with several large cardboard boxes behind him.
"Hello, I'm the one who installed the air purifier."
Zhang Minglang stepped aside to let him in, pointed out the pre-planned empty space in the living room, and asked him to install it.
After giving all the instructions, Zhang Minglang remembered something and turned around: "Be sure to keep your voice down, and don't go upstairs yet."
He paused, then his voice suddenly became lighter: "My wife, she's sleeping upstairs."
The mechanic who was unpacking the boxes straightened up upon hearing this and glanced at him in surprise: "You look quite young. You got married at such a young age?"
Anyway, Tang Yi isn't around, so I won't get scolded for verbally taking advantage of her.
Zhang Minglang nodded smugly: "I wish it had been sooner."
The chef muttered behind him how good his relationship with his wife was, while he casually walked to the refrigerator, took out the last few eggs and a packet of noodles, and skillfully turned on the stove.
Although he hadn't cooked in a long time and was out of practice, he was still a former cook, so cooking noodles wasn't too difficult for him.
Zhang Minglang stared intently at the sizzling, bubbling fried eggs in the pan, one hand holding a spatula and the other on his hip, looking completely at ease.
He took the fried egg out and put it on a plate. As he filled the pot with water and waited for it to boil, he suddenly felt a tightening around his waist.
He was startled and looked down to see two fair arms that had replaced the ties of his bathrobe, wrapped around his waist.
Zhang Minglang turned his head and could only see a head of shiny black hair with two small whorls clearly visible.
Those two little whorls, what a stubborn one.
She's really stubborn.
He chuckled softly, thinking to himself.
But at this moment, the stubborn girl was not stubborn at all. She heard his soft chuckle, raised her head, and questioned him with her eyes.
Zhang Minglang straightened his lips and raised his hands: "I wasn't laughing."
Tang Yi scoffed, slowly loosened her arms, and gestured with her chin toward the pot behind him: "The water's about to boil away."
Zhang Minglang then remembered that he was still boiling water.
He quickly turned around to turn off the heat and picked up the pot to add water again.
After cooking the noodles, Zhang Minglang scooped them out and put them in a bowl. He then placed a fried egg and blanched vegetables on top, and a bowl of light yet appetizing noodles was ready.
He took two bowls of noodles out and placed them on the table. Tang Yi took two pairs of chopsticks and followed him out. Zhang Minglang insisted on waiting for her to come over, pulled out a chair for her, and bowed, extending his palm: "Please sit down, Lord Tang."
Tang Yi said "childish," but still obediently sat down.
Zhang Minglang wasn't in a hurry to eat. He propped one cheek up and stared at Tang Yi. Tang Yi picked up a piece of food with her chopsticks and put it in her mouth, looking up with some surprise: "I thought you were all show and no substance, but the taste is actually pretty good."
Zhang Minglang grunted twice from his chest, still looking at her face: "It's just a bowl of noodles, anyone with hands can do it. Besides, I used to cook for myself when I was studying abroad."
Tang Yi had just finished washing up, a few strands of her wet hair clinging to her ears. She had no makeup on, so the small mole on her cheek stood out prominently against her fair skin.
Like a black sesame seed accidentally sprinkled into a bowl of white glutinous rice balls.
In the brief moment that Tang Yi looked up, his index finger seemed to move on its own, reaching out and precisely poking her face.
A small dent appeared on Tang Yiliang's face as she squinted at him, but did not back away.
Under her direct gaze, Zhang Minglang casually curled his fingers and withdrew his hand.
"What do you want? I just want to touch you."
Just as Tang Yi was about to say something, the installer suddenly came over and interrupted them: "Hello, the air purifier in the living room is installed. I see your wife is awake, can we go upstairs now?"
The word "Madam" struck Zhang Minglang like a thunderbolt. He quickly turned his head, winking at his master from an angle where Tang Yi couldn't see him, and frantically waving his hands at him to signal him to stop talking.
However, the driver craned his neck forward, looking puzzled: "Didn't you just say your wife was sleeping upstairs and told me not to go up? I see she's up now."
After he finished speaking, he glanced at Tang Yi, who was sitting behind Zhang Minglang.
It's over.
What else is there to say?
Zhang Minglang immediately got up and pushed his master upstairs.
However, you can't escape your fate forever. After getting rid of the culprit, you inevitably have to return to the dining table.
Zhang Minglang silently sat down, leaning on the table, and began eating his noodles.
Tang Yi's noodles were almost empty. She slowly wiped her mouth with a tissue before interlacing her fingers and resting them lightly on her chin to look at him.
"When did I become your wife, Zhang Minglang?"
The person whose name was mentioned paused in their noodle-slurping motion, then looked up with a grin: "No, no."
Tang Yi teased him intentionally, drawing out her voice softly, "No? You don't want to marry me?"
Upon hearing the word "marriage" uttered from her lips, Zhang Minglang felt a surge of heat throughout his body, a suspicious blush rising to the back of his ears.
He blinked slowly, scratched his head, and struggled to find the right words: "I think it's a bit early to talk about this now..."
Seeing his honest and simple appearance, Tang Yi couldn't help but lower her head and laugh.
Zhang Minglang finally realized what was going on. He chuckled and straightened up: "You were just teasing me, Tang Xiaoyi?"
Just as the two were about to wrestle together and scratch their itch, the upstairs worker came downstairs, his slippers clattering softly.
Tang Yi saw it first, and she withdrew her hand without paying attention to the force she used. With a crisp "smack," her palm struck Zhang Minglang's arm.
The scene fell silent in an instant, and the master slowly withdrew his foot that had stepped out.
He waved stiffly at Zhang Minglang: "The room is all set up. You can go and check it out in a bit. Just call me anytime if you have any problems!"
Zhang Minglang cleared his throat, hid his arms behind his back, and stood up.
The deliveryman put on his shoes, opened the door, and walked out. As if remembering something, he paused, turned back, and sighed, "You two have such a wonderful relationship. Wishing you happiness!"
After saying that, he disappeared in a flash.
Tang Yi remained seated, smiling, while Zhang Minglang turned and grinned foolishly at her.
I should have refrained from this verbal sparring.
Oh well. Even if I had known all along, I would have gone through with it anyway.
Zhang Minglang sat back down and quickly finished his noodles. He got up to clear the table, but Tang Yi grabbed the bowl before he could.
Tang Yi said, "I'll go wash up, you can cook."
Zhang Minglang stepped forward to try and take it from her, arguing confidently, "It's just two bowls and a pot, I'll do it, you go wait in the living room..."
The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation.
While Zhang Minglang wasn't paying attention, Tang Yi took the bowl back from his hand and gestured towards the door: "It must be that the cook who left something behind. Go open the door, I'll wash the dishes."
The doorbell rang again, and Zhang Minglang could only nod, not forgetting to lean over and kiss her forehead before turning and walking towards the door.
"mom??"
Tang Yi's hands froze, and she stiffened her neck to look up at the entrance.
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