Chapter 17

Song Wei returned to her office and sat for two or three minutes before calling her father, Song Gaoyi. “Dad, are you working overtime tonight?”

Song Gaoyi replied, “I might be a while. What’s up?”

“Nothing, Chen Jubai’s back, and he asked if he could come over for dinner.”

“Alright, I’ll head home now and buy some groceries. What does Xiao Chen like to eat?”

“…” Didn’t he just say he’d be a while? That changed fast. “I don’t know what he likes.”

“Ask him quickly. I’m heading back now.”

“…”

She then called her mother, Yang Yingqiu. “Mom, are you working overtime tonight?”

“Yes, I am.”

For some reason, Song Wei felt relieved. She was worried about him showing up at her house in his new identity. “Alright then.” Still, fearing her mother might take issue with her new son-in-law, she added, “Chen Jubai’s back. He was thinking of coming over tonight, but we’ll plan for another time when you’re free.”

Yang Yingqiu immediately changed her tune. “When exactly? Is he afraid to meet me?”

“No, that’s not it…”

“I’m heading home now.”

“…”

Hearing the dial tone signaling the end of the call, Song Wei questioned reality.

Back in middle school, when she had a high fever, Yang Yingqiu stayed overnight at school for some inspection preparation, leaving Song Gaoyi to care for her. She might not have survived if not for her father.

As for her father, his research had always been his lifeblood. After her college entrance exams, he promised to take her on a trip but canceled it for work.

These two had always prioritized their careers. But now, for Chen Jubai, they dropped everything?

Is he that important?

Feeling a twinge of jealousy, Song Wei messaged him: [My dad wants to know what you like to eat.]

He replied quickly and specifically: [The sweet and sour ribs your dad made last time were delicious.]

Song Wei: [Got it. I’ll let him know.]

Chen Jubai: [I’m heading downstairs now. Let’s go home together.]

He used to include question marks. Now it’s just full stops. Typical man.

By then, most of the office had emptied. Song Wei carefully avoided the lingering crowd, sneaking into the underground parking lot. She found his car and ducked inside.

The man in the driver’s seat looked puzzled. “What are you hiding from?”

“Nothing.”

After a few seconds of silence, Song Wei turned her head and heard him say, his tone and expression serious, “About earlier—sorry. If you didn’t like it, I’ll avoid it next time.”

Coming down from the 22nd floor, she had nearly forgotten about it. But now that he brought it up, she felt embarrassed all over again.

She’d been too stunned at the time and had fled in confusion.

It wasn’t really about him. It was just that, at twenty-something years old, her love life had been a complete blank. She’d never even held hands with a man before. The sensation was unfamiliar.

Pretending to adjust her seatbelt, her voice softened, “I wasn’t hiding…”

She offered a half-true excuse: “The company has a no-office-romance policy.”

Chen Jubai narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Song Wei was too flustered to continue.

Not that we’re actually dating anyway.

He seemed confused but eventually caught on. “No office romances? I wasn’t aware of that. I’ll ask about it tomorrow.”

Song Wei was speechless. “How do you not know this? Aren’t you the boss?”

“…Should I know?”

“…Forget it.”

He replied earnestly, “I’ll speak to HR tomorrow about removing that policy.”

“No, don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

Chen Jubai looked at her intently, his expression serious. “It should be changed.”

Song Wei avoided his gaze. “Do whatever you want. It has nothing to do with me.”

“How does it have nothing to do with you?”

“We… we’re not even dating…” she stammered.

“Then what’s our relationship now?”

The atmosphere shifted. His presence felt overwhelming. Song Wei’s face reddened, her ears grew warm, and she quickly changed the subject. “My dad’s probably done shopping by now. Let’s head back.”

After a moment, he shifted his gaze, and Song Wei exhaled silently.

What relationship? A barely-acquainted marital one.

The 20-minute drive back coincided with the post-work rush. The neighborhood bustled with life, the aroma of food wafting through the air.

Song Wei had been mulling over something during the ride. Before getting out of the car, she called to him, “Chen Jubai.”

She met his gaze. “I just started at this company, and you did help me get in. Maybe you didn’t have ulterior motives then, but if our relationship becomes public, it’ll inevitably affect how others see me.”

“I really like Guangnian, and I really like my department. I want to do well here. I don’t want anything to influence how others judge me. Can we hold off announcing our marriage until my job is more stable?”

He studied her with a deep gaze, remaining silent for a moment before replying slowly, “Alright. What about the wedding?”

“Let’s delay it too. I’ll talk to my parents.”

“Okay.”

Knowing she was acting out of self-interest, Song Wei felt guilty and added, “It’s not that I don’t want a wedding or to make things public. I just want to wait a bit.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands clenched tightly on her knees. Chen Jubai noticed her guilt and reassured her, “It’s fine. I understand.”

Then, he opened the glove compartment and took out a red velvet box.

Song Wei looked up. “So soon?” He’d asked for her size recently, but she didn’t expect him to get it this quickly.

“I had it delivered to the office.”

“Oh.”

“Want me to put it on for you?”

It wasn’t like the subtle emotions of their wedding day. Feeling shy, Song Wei quickly took the box. “No, I can do it myself.”

He glanced at her but prepared to get out of the car. Song Wei, realizing she still had something to say, grabbed his hand in a hurry and then let go just as fast. “One more thing.”

He sat back down.

Avoiding his gaze, Song Wei mumbled, “About what happened earlier in the office… I’m just not used to it. I wasn’t rejecting you on purpose.”

Understanding dawned on him, and he smiled gently. “Alright, I get it.”

The two went upstairs together.

While waiting for the elevator, they ran into a neighbor coming down. The woman gave Chen Jubai a thorough once-over, curiosity and gossip written all over her face. “Xiao Wei, who’s this?”

Song Wei had no choice but to introduce him. “Aunt Wu, I’m married. This is…” The title spun on her tongue, burning, before she finally said it. “This is my husband.”

As the words left her lips, she felt his intense gaze beside her.

Aunt Wu was shocked. “When did this happen? I haven’t heard anything from your mom.”

“We just got married recently. I’ll bring you some wedding candy later.”

“That’s great! Congratulations!”

After Aunt Wu left, Song Wei pressed the elevator button and walked in first.

However, the confined space was proving to be the real challenge.

He spoke behind her, his tone carrying a faint trace of amusement. “Weren’t we waiting to announce it later?”

“…This is different.”

The man’s brows arched slightly, and he seemed to be in a good mood.

…

Song Gaoyi had already returned home with the groceries and was in the middle of meal preparation, while Yang Yingqiu had yet to arrive.

Chen Jubai volunteered to help in the kitchen, though he hesitated when it came to addressing Song Gaoyi. The older man glanced at him. “What’s the matter? You had the guts to marry my daughter, but calling me something else is difficult?”

Chen Jubai promptly addressed him, “Dad.”

“Alright, go slice the meat while I peel the potatoes.”

As he began cutting the beef, Song Gaoyi noticed his clumsy knife skills within minutes and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know how to cook?”

Embarrassed, Chen Jubai nodded. “Not really. Just some basic stuff.”

Song Gaoyi’s eyes practically sparked with annoyance. “Work keeps me busy, so I rarely get the chance to cook for myself,” Chen Jubai added quickly, sensing his father-in-law’s growing displeasure.

“And what do you eat?”

“Cafeteria food at work, or I order takeout.”

“Takeout is fine occasionally, but eating it too often will ruin your health! Haven’t you seen the news on TV?” Song Gaoyi looked genuinely angry. “Song Wei doesn’t know how to cook either. What will you two do in the future? Survive on takeout?”

“…I’ll start learning.”

Seeing the sincerity in his expression, Song Gaoyi finally let him off the hook. “Then come over every evening. I’ll teach you.”

After considering his work schedule, Chen Jubai agreed.

Over the next half-hour, the kitchen was filled with instructions:
“Remove the outer membrane from the beef first. Don’t cut along the grain; cut across it.”
“Potatoes need to be soaked in water after slicing to remove the starch.”
“Heat the pan and let it dry completely before adding oil.”
“Add a pinch of salt and sugar. You’ll get the hang of the proportions after cooking more often.”

Song Wei peeked into the kitchen at one point and was utterly shocked at what she saw. Was her dad teaching Chen Jubai how to cook?

The man wearing an apron, awkwardly flipping a wok under her father’s supervision, was the same CEO of Guangnian?

Unbelievable.

“Dad,” she called.

But both men were too focused to notice her. Song Gaoyi snatched the spatula from Chen Jubai’s hand in frustration. “You have to flip it from the bottom up. What’s the point of flipping it sideways? The food at the bottom will burn!”

Song Wei observed the man with a slightly flushed face—whether from the heat or exertion—and his tall frame obediently standing straight to receive criticism. She found it amusing.

When Yang Yingqiu returned, she too stood at the kitchen doorway, watching for a moment. She eventually smirked and walked away, humming, “Those two seem to be blending in quickly.”

An hour later, two men produced a four-dish, one-soup meal that looked quite presentable.

At the dining table, Song Gaoyi and his wife sat on one side, while the younger couple sat on the other. Song Wei caught a whiff of oil on Chen Jubai and turned to see a few red marks on his neck, likely from splattered oil.

His expression seemed more relaxed than during the meal earlier this year, though his face still carried a tautness.

“Let’s eat,” Principal Yang declared.

The Song family didn’t have a rule about being silent at the table. Song Gaoyi picked up a piece of sparerib and placed it on Song Wei’s plate. “Try this. Xiao Chen made it. See if it needs improvement.”

Carrying a sense of responsibility, Song Wei ate the sparerib.

The taste wasn’t as good as her father’s, but it deserved a solid seven out of ten. She offered encouragement. “It’s delicious.”

Song Gaoyi didn’t believe her. He tried one himself and then looked across the table with a complex expression, as though lamenting that a mere seven-point rib had managed to take away his beloved daughter.

He set his chopsticks down and addressed Chen Jubai seriously. “You should move in tomorrow.”

Three pairs of eyes focused on him at once.

“How else will I teach you to cook? Are you going to go back after every meal?”

Song Wei was stunned. “Move in? Move where?”

“This apartment has four bedrooms: three for sleeping, one as a study. Figure it out.”

Song Wei couldn’t respond. She looked distraught.

Chen Jubai hadn’t expected things to move so quickly either. This wasn’t something to rush. He already had to carve out time for cooking lessons, and he still had work to do in the evenings. Noticing Song Wei’s clear reluctance, he politely explained, “Dad, I still have work at night. I’m afraid it’ll disturb Song Wei’s rest.”

“You can use the study.”

Song Wei tried to interject weakly, “Dad…”

In the end, it was Yang Yingqiu who made the final decision. “Move in. You can use the study.”

This young couple clearly lacked emotional connection. Since they were already married, they needed to foster that bond. And wasn’t it natural for a married couple to share a room? If they started living apart so soon, what was the point of getting married?

Yang Yingqiu turned to Song Wei. “Tonight, tidy up your messy room. Don’t let it look like a kennel.”

Song Wei felt her last glimmer of hope die.

But no one paid attention to her feelings. Yang Yingqiu had a more pressing question. “When are you planning to hold the wedding banquet?”

Chen Jubai straightened his posture. “Mom, we discussed it and decided to wait until Song Wei’s job stabilizes.”

Yang Yingqiu understood this was likely her daughter’s idea and didn’t press further. “You should arrange a time for us to meet your family.”

“Okay.” Chen Jubai then took the initiative to bring up another topic. “Mom, about the betrothal gift—I don’t have much liquid cash on hand right now. I was thinking of transferring the property on Changning Road to her as part of the betrothal gift. Do you think this is okay?”

For once, the usually distant couple exchanged glances and saw mutual astonishment in each other’s eyes.

The Changning Road area is part of the key development zone in Nan’an City. Even in this economic climate, housing prices remain high. A single property, even if it’s just a two-bedroom unit, is a significant asset—an asset that will likely appreciate in value. And now, he’s simply giving it away?

Yang Yingqiu noticed her daughter’s identical look of astonishment, realizing that she probably had no idea about this matter.

As expected, Song Wei said, “I don’t want it.”

Song Gaoyi also added, “Xiao Chen, we’re not after your betrothal gift. You two should discuss the house matter between yourselves.”

However, Yang Yingqiu didn’t decline. “That works. One property, but only in her name.”

The father and daughter could play the good guys; she wouldn’t.

Marriage is unpredictable—wasn’t her own marriage with Song Gaoyi proof of that?

While she hoped her daughter would have a happy marriage, she also had to prepare for the worst-case scenario. If something unexpected were to happen, it wouldn’t do for her daughter to be left with nothing.

In this household, no one ever went against Yang Yingqiu’s decisions.

And just like that, the betrothal gift—a property—was finalized.

After dinner, Song Wei walked him downstairs. Not knowing what to say, she finally voiced her concerns, her tone tinged with reproach. “You don’t need to give me a house. I’m not after your money.”

Standing on the stairs outside the lobby, Chen Jubai was a step below her. Their gazes met at eye level, and he asked first, “Are you planning to divorce me?”

“Why would I be planning to divorce you?”

“Then what are you worried about? What’s mine is yours. Plus, won’t you already have half of whatever I earn after we’re married? That’s much more than a single house.”

“This is different.”

“It’s the same. The house is just a gesture—a token of sincerity and commitment to your parents.”

Unable to argue, Song Wei relented. “Fine, fine.” If something did happen in the future, leading to divorce, she wouldn’t take the house anyway.

Thinking about moving in, Song Wei felt a headache coming on. “My dad probably said that about teaching you to cook just in passing. You’re so busy with work; there’s no need to go back and forth. I’ll explain it to him later.”

Chen Jubai furrowed his brows in thought. Just when Song Wei thought there might be a chance for compromise, he said, “It’s not ideal for both of us to not know how to cook. It’s fine; I’ll learn from Dad.”

“…”

“I am busy with work, but moving in would be more convenient.”

“…”

Chen Jubai noticed her awkward expression—her big, almond-shaped eyes darting around as if she had a lot of reasons to refuse but couldn’t bring herself to say them. He chuckled softly. “I’m heading back now. Tomorrow, I’ll leave work early to pack my things. Are you coming to my place, or should I meet you back here?”

Thinking about everything that was about to unfold the next day, Song Wei blushed. She hastily tossed out a response and ran off. “I’m not going with you. You pack on your own.”