Chapter 20.3

In the novel, Zhou Yao was just a minor character, barely noticeable, with fewer scenes than the original owner. It only mentioned that he was a notorious delinquent in the village, and the original owner died not long after marrying him, with no further information about him.

And the original owner’s memories didn’t contain much, as she hadn’t interacted with Zhou Yao much before their marriage.

“After my mom died, he treated me like I didn’t exist. He worked early mornings to late nights, neglecting everything at home. I was only about five or six years old at the time, and my grandma couldn’t stand it, so she took me to live with her.”

“He blamed my mom’s death on me because she had asked me if I wanted a younger sibling, and since I didn’t say I didn’t want one, it led to her dying during childbirth, taking both her and the baby’s lives.” Zhou Yao’s tone was very calm.

It seemed he found it rather amusing, as he chuckled softly.

Wen Yue’s expression became somewhat complicated.

She didn’t expect Zhou Yao’s father to be so unreliable. How could such an accident of death during childbirth be blamed on Zhou Yao? He was only five or six years old at the time. What could he understand…

“I remember once, some kids in the village who were a couple of years older than me mocked me for being parentless, saying I had a mom who gave birth but didn’t raise me and a dad who didn’t care. I fought with them and ended up injuring one of them, and their family came to our door.”

“When I explained to my grandma why I had fought, she said: These kids are right, I have no mother and no father, he is not my father, just treat him as dead.”

Wen Yue’s eyes widened in disbelief, unable to hold back, “How could she say that…”

“She wasn’t wrong, actually,” Zhou Yao said lightly. “He died the day my mom passed away.”

First of all, his parents must have had a good relationship.

Secondly, ending up with such an unreliable father must have been a stroke of bad luck from a previous life.

Lastly, Zhou Yao was pitiful.

“After the reform and opening up in the 1980s, he left a letter and disappeared, saying he wanted to venture out without notifying anyone. He only came back twice. Once for my grandfather’s funeral in ’83 and another time in ’86 when he was terminally ill. He said he wanted to be buried next to my mom.”

When Zhou Yao spoke about these events, his expression was very calm, as if he were recounting someone else’s experiences. His gaze was indifferent, devoid of any turbulence.

Wen Yue fell silent for two seconds before softly saying, “Aunt’s death has nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” Zhou Yao replied, casting her a sidelong glance. “Why are you calling her ‘Aunt’? You’re my wife. You should be calling her ‘Mom’ or ‘Mother-in-law.’”

Wen Yue pretended not to hear him and changed the subject. “Do you think I will laugh at you if I know all this?” Is she that kind of person?

Zhou Yao could clearly see the sympathy and affection in her beautiful, watery eyes. He smiled slightly, his voice low and deep, “No, I was just joking.”

“Are you still angry now?”

Wen Yue’s gaze drifted for a moment, her attitude softened as she no longer seemed as distant. She muttered softly, “I wasn’t really angry to begin with. But if you keep doing this in the future, I really won’t talk to you.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake twice,” Zhou Yao said, finally feeling relieved. He wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead and tentatively asked, “Can we not eat separately in the future? I’ll wash my hands twice.”

Wen Yue chuckled, her eyes turning into crescent moons as she tilted her head. “Sure, remember what you said.”

“By the way, did you see the clothes I left in your room?”

Zhou Yao replied, “Yeah, I saw them.”

“Did you try them on? Do they fit?” Wen Yue asked. “If they don’t, I can alter them. You bought a sewing machine, so I can give it a try.”

Zhou Yao said, “I haven’t tried them yet.”

Wen Yue urged him to try them on now.

Zhou Yao wasn’t too keen on the idea, his dark brows furrowing as he negotiated, “Try them now? I was sweating before, let me wash up and try them on after dinner.”

“Try them on now! You can wash up afterward. It’s sunny, so they’ll dry quickly. You’ll be able to wear them tomorrow.”

Convinced by Wen Yue’s words, Zhou Yao turned and left the room.

Wen Yue thought he would change into the clothes in his room and then come back, but to her surprise, he brought the clothes back with him and, right in front of her, lifted the hem and pulled it up—

A muscular, fit body suddenly entered her view. As he raised his hand to remove his shirt, the muscles in his arms became faintly visible, and his abdominal muscles tensed, disappearing into his waistband.

Wen Yue froze for a moment, her gaze flitting around the room in confusion, but her eyes inevitably returned to his chest and abdomen.

After taking off his tank top, Zhou Yao picked up the shirt he had placed on the chair and shook it out before putting it on.

This shirt was specially made for a looser fit, and while it was somewhat baggy, it should be comfortable. However, she had underestimated the muscle on Zhou Yao’s body. The loose shirt was stretched taut by his muscles.

The shirt concealed the bulging muscles underneath but didn’t make him look bulky or heavy. In fact, he appeared a bit slimmer than he did without clothes.

This was the kind of physique that looked slim without clothes but had muscle when dressed.

As Zhou Yao leisurely buttoned his shirt, the contrast between his long, well-defined, tanned fingers and the color of the shirt was quite striking. His chest felt a bit tight, with the contours of his chest muscles clearly visible.

When he looked up at Wen Yue while fastening the buttons, his deep, dark eyes exuded a strong sense of dominance and an unspoken allure.

Wen Yue didn’t even need to check. She knew her face must be very red.

Zhou Yao was doing it on purpose, wasn’t he? Changing clothes in front of her?

Embarrassed and irritated, Wen Yue averted her gaze. “…Does it fit? Is it too small?”

“It’s not small. It’s just right.” Zhou Yao moved a little, appearing quite satisfied. He smiled back at her and then asked curiously, “Why is your face so red? Are you feeling unwell?”

His brows furrowed immediately as he walked over to touch her forehead. The warmth that hit her, combined with the masculine scent he emitted, made her face grow even hotter.

Wen Yue swatted Zhou Yao’s hand away and pushed him toward the door, speaking rapidly, “I’m fine, it’s just a bit hot. As long as it fits. I’m a little tired now. You can wash the shirt yourself. I’m going to sleep for a bit.”

She unceremoniously pushed him out and shut the door behind him.

Zhou Yao: “?”

A second later, the door cracked open, and Wen Yue tossed his tank top back at him. The door quickly closed again.

Zhou Yao: “.”

What time was it? Why was she tired already? Didn’t she just wake up not long ago?

Zhou Yao, expressionless, hugged the tank top in his arms as he went back into his room to change out of the shirt. He carefully washed it with soap twice, shaking it vigorously several times as he hung it on the clothesline. He had to wash it thoroughly so that he could wear it out tomorrow and show off a bit.

**

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