Chapter 11 Being Poor Is Hard
Wen Zhi listened without taking it to heart. Her brows lifted slightly as she responded with equal force, "I said I don't have time."
After speaking, something occurred to her, and she added, "We're only living together to get by. I'm not changing my lifestyle for anyone."
With that, she shoved the plate into the cabinet, washed her hands, left Mo Tingyan behind, and quickly returned to her bedroom.
She closed the door and began preparing for her livestream…
Being left alone, Mo Tingyan wasn't as angry as before.
He strolled out of the kitchen leisurely, sat on the only sofa in the living room, and stared intently at the door to Wen Zhi's room.
Before long, her gentle voice floated out.
"Good evening, everyone. I'm your host, ZZ…"
"Yes, 'Awaiting Blossoms,' you have good eyes. The background did change—I moved."
"Thank you, Sister Four-Leaf Clover, for the gift. No lessons today, just chatting."
Her voice continued steadily.
Mo Tingyan walked to the balcony, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number. His voice was not its usual lazy drawl but carried an unquestionable command: "Look into Wen Zhi's streaming account."
The other side quickly replied with respect, "Yes."
A few minutes later, Mo Tingyan opened Wen Zhi's livestream.
She indeed wasn't showing her face—the camera was angled downward toward the desk, revealing only her slender, fair hands casually flipping through the books on it.
Mo Tingyan raised an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with interest, and stood up…
Wen Zhi was in the middle of comforting a female viewer bullied by her mother-in-law when her door gently opened and Mo Tingyan walked in.
She quickly shook her head at him, signaling him to leave.
But Mo Tingyan merely raised a brow at her and flashed a wicked, roguish smile. He didn't stop walking and approached her lightly, step by step.
Wen Zhi's heart shot up to her throat. She was talking, but subconsciously cleared her voice.
She glared at him over her shoulder, about to repeat the warning—
but Mo Tingyan suddenly lowered his head and captured her lips.
The hand she had beneath the camera flipping pages froze instantly.
She quickly withdrew one hand and pressed it against his forehead, pushing him away. She shot him a fierce look, then glanced hastily at the phone showing her livestream chat.
There were over two thousand people watching.
Because she'd suddenly gone silent, many were asking why she wasn't talking.
Wen Zhi hurriedly said, "Sorry, I'm taking a sip of water."
Seeing how flustered she was, Mo Tingyan couldn't help letting out a low chuckle. He lowered his head again…
Wen Zhi panicked, thinking he was going to kiss her again, and leaned forward to avoid him—
but instead, his lips landed on the back of her neck.
He shifted, now beside her.
His hand slid under her skirt, blatantly unruly…
His warm breath trailed continuously over her nape, crawling under her skin, while his hand teased her mercilessly.
He murmured, "Pearl, I want to eat the food you make."
Her camera was fixed on her hands—she couldn't move it.
She could only endure, feeling as if ten thousand ants were dancing wildly all over her body.
No matter how hard she tried to control herself, her voice… was steadily going off.
The viewers noticed something was off. Comments flew:
"ZZ's voice is so soft today… sounds nice."
"Why do I feel like ZZ's voice is a bit strange?"
"Huh? ZZ's silent again."
Wen Zhi was trembling all over, on the verge of losing her mind from his teasing!
Because at some point, Mo Tingyan's head had moved—
and was now buried against her lower belly…
Gritting her teeth, body shaking, she moved one hand away from the camera, made a drinking sound, and hooked a finger under Mo Tingyan's chin, lifting his head.
Mo Tingyan looked up, tongue brushing across his own lips, eyes filled with lethal seduction.
She leaned down and whispered sharply, "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
Mo Tingyan arched a brow, lowering his voice to match the situation as he said, "I'm hungry. If my wife won't feed me, then I'll just… look for meat myself."
"…!" Wen Zhi was so furious she wanted to bite him.
If she weren't live, she would've punched him.
"I'll cook. But you get out first."
Mo Tingyan shook his head. "What if you go back on your word later? Give me a promise—no turning your face, no breaking your word."
Wen Zhi wanted to punch him even more.
But she couldn't leave her stream silent too long.
So she quickly leaned forward and pecked his lips. "Promise."
That did it.
Mo Tingyan finally stopped.
He rose from his half-kneeling position, pulled over a chair quietly, and sat beside her. His hand still wandered on her leg, but he didn't push further.
Wen Zhi knew there was no getting rid of him, so she stopped wasting time. She set down the water cup and spoke into the stream:
"Sorry, everyone, I'm a bit under the weather—my throat's itchy. I'm not in perfect condition today."
The livestream finally returned to normal…
An hour later, Wen Zhi ended it.
The first thing she did was brush away Mo Tingyan's hand still resting on her thigh.
Seeing her impatience, Mo Tingyan smirked. "See? A woman's promise means nothing. You just said you wouldn't turn on me."
"Let's talk."
Mo Tingyan didn't back away at her seriousness.
Instead, he turned the chair to face her, placing both hands on her knees, looking utterly unruly yet using a mock-serious tone:
"Wife, whatever you want to say, just give the order. No need to talk."
Yeah right.
Wen Zhi kept a calm face, her voice serious. "Mo Tingyan, we got married just to get by. I'm not your maid. If you want me to cook, then you wash the dishes. Any objections?"
Mo Tingyan agreed immediately with a cheerful grin. "None at all. I'll go buy a dishwasher right now."
At that, Wen Zhi's face darkened. Was this man incapable of living like a normal person?
"Then why don't you buy a chef while you're at it?"
Hearing her tone, a rare moment of confusion flickered in Mo Tingyan's eyes. "I buy a dishwasher and… you're angry?"
Wen Zhi folded her arms and stared at him. She really was angry.
She said unhappily, "Mo Tingyan, do you really not know what our financial situation is? We're carrying over two million in housing loans. You don't feel any pressure? With what money do you think you're buying a dishwasher, huh?"
Mo Tingyan: "…"
How did he end up getting scolded?
Shouldn't "not needing a servant to wash dishes" be good enough?
And she won't even let him buy a dishwasher?
For the first time, Mo Tingyan felt it—
he miscalculated.
Being poor… is really damn hard.