Chapter 20: Did This Guy Go Back to the Northeast to Find a Wife?

A day later, the plane landed in Shulin right on schedule. Xie Qian got off the plane and headed straight back to the old family residence.

Inside the residence, Xie Longhui and Lan Yudie were enjoying their afternoon tea.

When Xie Qian appeared before them, both of them were stunned.

Aunt Wu had been working for the Xie family for decades—she practically watched Xie Qian grow up. Yet even she was visibly shocked by his current appearance.

“Young Master Xie… this is…” Aunt Wu trailed off, unsure what to say.

She was holding a tray of freshly made macarons, and before she could even set it down on the table, Xie Qian had already walked over and popped one into his mouth.

Though there had been food on the plane, his head was spinning from the alcohol, and he couldn’t eat a thing. Only after landing did his stomach finally start to rebel, twisting in painful protest.

Lan Yudie and Xie Longhui sat side by side on the sofa. Seeing their son return, both had very different expressions on their faces.

Lan Yudie knew Xie Qian had gone to Jinhe for business talks. Being the head of the Xie family wasn’t an easy job—traveling all over was a regular part of it, so she hadn’t thought much of his trip.

But could someone please tell her how a dignified and handsome man could return looking like… this?

Actually, there was nothing particularly wrong with Xie Qian’s outfit. Before he left, Shi Zhen had carefully tidied him up: the scarf was neatly tied around his neck, the earmuffs fully covered his ears, and the down jacket had been straightened from top to bottom.

Unfortunately, the temperature difference between Xiaoshan and Shulin was too great. When he got off the car, he was drenched in sweat. He casually tore off the three-piece winter set that Shi Zhen had prepared and hung it over his arm.

His down jacket was wide open, and his forehead was beaded with sweat from the discomfort and the pain. One careless wipe and his hairstyle became a complete mess.

The “Zhenzhen” drinks weren’t allowed on the plane, so he had to mail them back to Shulin through a courier service at the last minute.

Frozen pears and persimmons were allowed on the plane, but they wouldn’t last long before turning to mush. So, he shelled out extra cash for a cold-chain-like storage box.

When he got off the plane, he was still holding a rock-hard black frozen pear covered in a layer of ice.

As a result, the image he presented to everyone was: a down jacket messily thrown on, short hair clumped and sticking to his forehead, and—most notably—carrying four round, bulging convenience bags clearly packed with stuff.

Xie Longhui looked thoroughly displeased. Unlike Lan Yudie, he didn’t care about sparing his son’s dignity. If he had something to say, he said it outright:
“Xie Qian, did you escape from a disaster zone?”

Xie Qian didn’t even have the energy to argue with his father. His stomach was in intense pain, and the alcohol seemed to still be affecting him.

He reasonably suspected that the cold shower he had taken two nights ago was coming back to bite him now—why else would he feel so weak and powerless?

“Aunt Wu, is there anything to eat?” he asked. Then, raising the items in his hand, he added, “Also, can you help me freeze these?”

“Sure, you’re in luck. Chef Liu made chicken soup today—it’s still simmering. I’ll get you a bowl right away,” Aunt Wu said as she took the items and headed into the kitchen.

Seeing how pale Xie Qian’s lips were, Xie Longhui knew something was wrong. He immediately asked, “Xie Qian, why do you look so awful?”

Lan Yudie hadn’t noticed anything off until Xie Longhui pointed it out. But now, she too spotted her son’s unusual state. She hurried over and helped him onto the sofa.

Her soft hand pressed against Xie Qian’s forehead. Lan Yudie was clearly worried. “Quick, call the family doctor. You’ve got a fever.”

“Weren’t you just going to Jinhe for a business meeting? Even if you went sightseeing after, how did you end up in this state? And this down jacket—where on earth did it come from? Why does it look like the one your grandfather used to wear? Don’t tell me you went back to the Northeast?”

Under Lan Yudie’s barrage of questions, Xie Qian felt even dizzier. He rubbed his hair and collapsed onto the sofa, his face flushed sickly red.

“Mom, I think I’m seriously sick… but it’s fine. I’ll be okay after some rest.” His lips parted slightly, each breath hot with fever.

Although Xie Longhui was always verbally sparring with Xie Qian, he was still his son—how could he not be worried?

He turned and barked at Zhang Cheng, who had rushed over in the commotion:
“Go check on the doctor—why isn’t he here yet? If he doesn’t show up soon, he can forget about keeping his job!”

Zhang Cheng trembled, “Yes, sir! I’ll go follow up immediately.”

Lan Yudie looked even more anxious. She turned to the household staff and ordered, “Stop what you’re doing—go help the young master to his room. He’s this sick—he mustn’t be moved around any more.”

After speaking, she turned and went to the kitchen. Aunt Wu had just ladled a bowl of chicken soup and was about to carry it out.

“Give it to me,” Lan Yudie said. Then she bent down and quietly asked Aunt Wu, “What did he give you just now?”

Aunt Wu answered honestly, “Just a few bags of frozen pears and frozen persimmons.”

Lan Yudie nodded, but her heart was swirling with thoughts. It seemed Xie Qian really had gone to the northeast.

She didn’t oppose Xie Qian going back, but every time he returned to Pingshan, he was guaranteed to fall seriously ill. Lan Zezhong treated him like the apple of his eye, giving all his patience and love to this grandson.

After Lan Zezhong’s death, Pingshan became a sore spot in Xie Qian’s heart. He had a love-hate relationship with it, as well as with the northeast.

She sighed, carrying the chicken soup upstairs. Xie Longhui followed closely behind, dropping his usual stern demeanor. His face was filled with fatherly anxiety.

Xie Qian was already in a daze from the fever, lying on the bed. But he was still clutching the three-piece gift set that Shizhen had given him, refusing to let go.

No matter how much the servants tried to pull it away, his hands wouldn’t loosen.

Seeing this, Lan Yudie immediately stepped forward and massaged Xie Qian’s temples. Taking advantage of his relaxed state, she managed to remove the items.

Facing the pastel pink and blue set, the couple fell silent. No matter how they looked at it, it seemed like something that belonged to a young girl. How did it end up in their son’s hands?

Xie Longhui stared at it and the more he looked, the more familiar it seemed. “Honey, don’t these things look like the ones you bought for me?”

With that, he rushed to the storage room and dug out his old clothes from years ago. Holding the items in hand, he compared them.

Well then—if not exactly the same, they looked like they came from the same pair of hands.

However, the set Xie Longhui pulled out was an old-fashioned version and included a Lei Feng hat.

Xie Longhui: …

Lan Yudie: …

“This kid went to the northeast to find a girlfriend?” Xie Longhui said with a laugh.

“That little brat, really something. Chasing after a girl and ending up like this,” Lan Yudie scolded playfully.

Half an hour later, Xie Qian groggily opened his eyes, only to see both his parents staring at him with strange expressions. Just as he was about to speak, Lan Yudie scooped up a spoonful of chicken soup and poured it into his mouth.

“Doctor Hua already checked on you. Don’t you know your own alcohol tolerance? Why’d you drink so much? And going to the northeast without dressing warmly—getting a cold is considered lucky. You don’t know people have had their ears frozen off?”

Lan Yudie grumbled while feeding him chicken soup.

Xie Qian caught the key word in her rant—“northeast.” His pupils dilated slightly. He asked, “Mom, how do you know I went to the northeast?”

Lan Yudie glared at him, “You brought back local specialties. Don’t tell me Jinhe sells frozen pears.”

Xie Qian buried his face in the pillow. As expected, nothing escaped Lan Yudie’s eagle eyes.

“There are two dozen packs of Zhenzhen too. They should arrive at the old house tomorrow. Could you have someone keep an eye out and put them in the fridge when they arrive?” His muffled voice came from under the pillow.

All the bedding in Xie Qian’s room had been carefully selected by Lan Yudie—smooth, skin-friendly, and top-tier in comfort.

As he felt the soft material beneath him, Xie Qian initially thought it was really comfortable. Truly, a doghouse of his own was better than a golden one.

But in the next second, something felt off. Where was his thick cotton coat? That big, long, super-warm down jacket?

“Mom, where are my clothes?”

Xie Qian shot up furiously, tossing the blanket aside and trying to get out of bed.

But Lan Yudie was quick to react and pushed him back down. “Lie down properly. Would we mess with your things? We just put them away.”

Then she stretched out her hand playfully in front of him and opened her palm to reveal a small pendant glinting brightly. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Mom, you haven’t changed at all—still so playful.” Xie Qian snatched the pendant, his face instantly flushing red.

Seeing his reaction, Lan Yudie knew something was definitely up. Her eyes lit up as she asked eagerly, “Tell me, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No!” Xie Qian denied. “I just made a friend in the northeast. Can you please stop always pushing me to find a girlfriend? It’s not that simple.”

Lan Yudie pursed her lips. Maybe it wasn’t easy for others, but for Xie Qian?

She couldn’t help but grumble internally. He was already twenty-nine and still so dense. Who did he take after? At this age, still obsessed with pure love, treating his first love like something sacred.

If it were up to her, love wasn’t something you waited for—it had to be tested. How would you know if someone was right for you without trying?

But she only complained inwardly. She would never say this to Xie Qian’s face.

Letting him grow up without his mother, raised by his grandfather, was a lifelong thorn in Lan Yudie’s heart.

For Xie Qian to turn out the way he had was already remarkable. So many kids who spent years apart from their parents ended up twisted—either with flawed personalities or emotionally distant.

“Alright, take care and don’t go to the company for the next few days. Your dad will take care of work.”

With that, Lan Yudie touched Xie Qian’s face. “Not bad, you’re not as hot anymore. Get some rest. I have a seminar at the university. It’s about innovation in domestic watercolor painting—been prepping for over half a year, can’t skip it.”

“Mom, I’m not three anymore. I don’t need you guys taking care of me,” Xie Qian said awkwardly, turning his head.

“Okay, you’ve grown up. Big kids don’t need mommy to look after them anymore. Then I’ll head out first. Don’t you dare get out of bed—don’t think your strength is unlimited. Resting well is the most important thing.”

With that, Lan Yudie smiled and pushed the door open, walking out.

Xie Qian blushed and pulled the covers over his head. Why did it feel like Mom had suddenly become so… gentle after he came home?