Sunday arrived, and Han Qian had planned to grant himself a full day of rest. Yet the morning peace was quickly shattered by the arrival of Li Jiawei and Tu Kun, who brought with them a lavish breakfast and a mountain of snacks for the day. Dressed in his pajamas, Han Qian squatted on the stairs, gazing wearily at the two children.
"Don't you two have tutoring classes or something? Quiet down! Your Sister Wen is still asleep—if you wake her up, she'll kick you both out."
As he spoke, Li Jiawei reached under the sofa cushion and produced a cup of steaming soybean milk, handing it to Han Qian. Taking a sip as he walked down the stairs, Han Qian leaned back against the sofa, watching the two children before finally coming to his senses.
"How did you two even get in here?"
"The door wasn't locked!"
Tu Kun looked completely innocent—if not for the key lying on the table, Han Qian might have believed her. He nodded absently.
"Why is that key still here? I should put it away."
Tu Kun immediately lunged for the key, but Han Qian flicked her smooth forehead with a snap of his finger. She clutched her forehead and glared at him.
"Uncle, must you always use your hands?"
Han Qian's face was serious as he tucked the key away.
"Yes."
With that, he told the two children to focus on their studies—he was going back to bed for a little while longer.
By the time Han Qian awoke again, it was noon. Opening his eyes, he saw three figures—one big and two small—lined up on the tatami mat. Tu Kun sat cross-legged, tilting her head back and calling out,
"Uncle, I'm hungry!"
Li Jiawei chimed in immediately.
"Uncle, I brought groceries."
When it was Wen Nuan's turn to speak, Han Qian beat her to it.
"And what does my dear niece want to eat?"
Wen Nuan's foot landed squarely on Han Qian's face, and Tu Kun saw her chance to seek revenge, launching herself at him.
As Han Qian prepared lunch, the two girls and the boy lined up outside the kitchen, watching him cook. With tissues stuffed up his nose, he was furiously stirring the wok. The groceries Tu Kun had brought included spicy chicken, duck-blood hotpot, a plate of boiled bok choy, and a cold dish of cucumbers and mung bean jelly.
Hot oil crackled as he poured it over the duck-blood dish, sending pungent fumes through the kitchen. Li Jiawei rushed to open the living room windows, while Wen Nuan came in to help with the dishes. Tu Kun, meanwhile, handed Han Qian a pair of gloves.
"Uncle, it's hot."
Li Jiawei busied himself arranging the bottled water they had brought. When the four finally sat down to eat, Wen Nuan awkwardly picked up a piece of ham and placed it in Han Qian's bowl.
"Eat some more meat."
Li Jiawei poured a glass of beer and placed it before Han Qian, whispering,
"Uncle, it's chilled—good for the spice."
Even little Tu Kun, who had never waited on anyone, pressed a bowl of rice into Han Qian's hands.
"Uncle, have some more."
Han Qian's gaze swept over the three of them darkly, and he let out a cold snort.
"After lunch, Jiawei, review your lessons. Tu Kun, finish your homework. Wen Nuan, you—"
"Han Qian, I don't have any homework."
"Then clean up the snack wrappers you scattered around the house. I slept a single morning and you turned this place into a pigsty. You're living in my home—if I'm cooking for you, must I endure a beating first?"
Smack!
His chopsticks came down on Tu Kun's hand, making her yelp in pain. Han Qian frowned.
"I don't care what you do in your own home, but here, if you call me Uncle, I have the right to discipline you. You're underage—no alcohol. There's yogurt in the fridge."
Tu Kun's cheeks puffed with indignation, ready to protest, but Li Jiawei was quicker. He stuffed a cold slice of osmanthus sausage and a fish ball into her mouth, then said firmly,
"Don't argue. My mom's gone to the countryside and won't be back till tomorrow morning. Your dad isn't coming home tonight either. They wouldn't allow us to stay home alone together. If you want a place to sleep, keep quiet."
Well, who knew little Jiawei had it in him—he actually managed to tame that unruly girl!
After the meal, Li Jiawei didn't rush to study. He washed the dishes, then wiped down the coffee table and the tiles, even cleaning up Wen Nuan's snack wrappers before finally sitting down with his books. Such a thoughtful boy. When Han Qian looked at Tu Kun, she was hunched over her homework like it was a death sentence, frowning and gnawing on her pen.
Wen Nuan helped Jiawei review for a while, repaying his efforts to keep the house tidy. After half an hour, she returned to her own work, fielding phone call after phone call. Han Qian, with nothing else to do, stood beside Tu Kun, frowning at her nearly blank homework.
"Is it really that hard?"
Tu Kun lifted her head and nodded earnestly.
"It's impossible."
Han Qian picked up the worksheet and glanced at it.
"Come here—I'll explain. It's really not that hard."
He spent the entire afternoon tutoring her. The little girl was smart, just not fond of studying. By evening, when Han Qian checked her exercises, the improvement was clear. Released from her academic prison, Tu Kun declared she wanted to go out for a good meal as a reward—she absolutely refused to let Han Qian cook again.
Despite her antics, Tu Kun was oddly perceptive. As Wen Nuan, freshly freed from work, heard about dinner plans, she immediately offered to treat everyone to barbecue—and maybe some sake or beer too. The vote was three to one, with only Li Jiawei objecting to eating out.
The evening air was cool, so Wen Nuan changed into jeans and over-the-knee boots, pairing them with a white T-shirt. After a moment's thought, she added a brown leather jacket—transforming instantly from demure maiden to biker chic, a change Han Qian found a bit hard to process.
He murmured that it might be too warm, but Wen Nuan just shrugged, saying she'd toss it in the car if needed. Tu Kun chimed in teasingly,
"Wen-jie, your figure is… really straight."
Wen Nuan shot her a cold glare, sizing her up from head to toe before curling her lips into a frosty smile.
"Child."
Tu Kun puffed up like a puffer fish, clearly itching for a showdown. But standing next to Wen Nuan, she had to crane her neck to even look at her, and eventually gave up. Wen Nuan, however, refused to let it go—she swapped her boots for an identical pair with five-centimeter heels, making Tu Kun appear even shorter.
As they headed downstairs, Han Qian asked quietly,
"Are you really going to be so childish, competing with a kid?"
Wen Nuan flipped her hair back, brow furrowed and voice cool.
"So should I be competing with Yan Qingqing instead? If you're willing, I don't mind."
Whether she meant she didn't mind losing to Yan Qingqing or didn't mind seeing her involved, Han Qian wisely chose to keep silent. Yet he hadn't expected that just as they stepped out of the elevator, Yan Qingqing's call would come through.
Worried it was about the land deal, Han Qian didn't dare ignore it. Sitting in the driver's seat, he took a deep breath and answered—only to have Yan Qingqing's furious voice echo through the entire car.
"Han Daxian, are you trying to die? Answer your damn phone! You think you're so busy with Wen Nuan you can't be bothered? It's not even dark yet!"
Wen Nuan's face went cold in an instant. Leaning close to the phone, she purred,
"Qian-ge, who's being so rude?"
Goosebumps prickled up Han Qian's arms. Yan Qingqing paused for two seconds, then spat,
"Your second aunt, that's who—none of your damn business, you ex-wife! Han Qian, get to my office by seven tomorrow morning."
Wen Nuan's temper snapped. She snatched the phone away and shouted,
"You vixen—who are you calling names?"
"Overgrown baby! I'm talking to the overgrown baby!"
Click!
Yan Qingqing hung up and flung her phone onto the bed. In front of her lay a stack of approval documents and certificates for the construction project she'd been battling for. She hadn't expected it to be so easy—government offices working overtime on the weekend just to greenlight her plans. She'd wanted to share the victory with Han Qian, but now her mood was utterly soured.
Seven o'clock?
If she made it to the office by ten tomorrow, that would be a miracle.
Meanwhile, Wen Nuan demanded Han Qian drive to the hardware store so she could buy an axe and settle the score with Yan Qingqing herself.
Tu Kun went completely silent, not daring to provoke Wen Nuan further—she could sense the terrifying aura of that woman through the phone.
Han Qian could only rub his forehead, feeling an impending headache.