Chapter 102: After all, she really is craving

As Zhou Yinhe said, it indeed turned out that way.

When Ning Qing saw Zhou Yinhe, she felt both sorry and even more frustrated that he wasn't living up to expectations.

"Saving Wen Ling and your sister shows you have skill, but can your skill be a bit greater? Being able to save them while also staying unharmed."

Zhou Shuanglin snorted coldly, walked up rudely, grabbed Zhou Yinhe's uninjured arm, and said disdainfully, "You have no muscle at all—go practice properly with your second uncle."

"......" Zhou Yinhe withdrew his hand, frowned, and said, "Dad, can you stop saying nonsense in front of Lingling? What do you mean by no muscle?"

"Whether you have it or not, you're definitely going to your second uncle's." Zhou Shuanglin glared at him, then turned to chat with Wen Lao.

Ning Qing took Wen Ling's hand, saw she felt a bit guilty, and comforted her: "Don't worry, I'm not the kind of mother who blames the future daughter-in-law just because her son lacks ability—just ask your future sister-in-law."

Future daughter-in-law… future sister-in-law…

Wen Ling felt a bit embarrassed; Zhou Yinhe, listening nearby, was pleased, and Shang Zhiyu smiled at Ning Qing, saying, "Mom, don't say that—Miss Wen is already shy."

Ning Qing let out an ah, looked down at Wen Ling's slightly flushed cheeks, and apologized with a smile: "Sorry, sorry."

Wen Ling shook her head; Shang Zhiyu sat beside her and whispered, "Actually, my mom's right—they're not like that, so don't worry."

"Thank you, uncle and aunt." Wen Ling smiled with pursed lips, and Ning Qing found herself increasingly curious.

"I didn't expect her to have such a meek, soft personality."

Zhou Yinhe interjected, "Mom, she's scared by you—stop holding her hand all the time; can't she come stay with me?"

Ning Qing gave him a sideways glance, refused to let go, and told Wen Ling, "Ignore him."

Wen Ling could only blink at Zhou Yinhe, her eyes full of smug satisfaction.

Upon receiving that, Zhou Yinhe raised his arm to shield his eyes, somewhat amused.

He knew Wen Ling wasn't really that meek—she was just putting on a bit of an act the first time she met his family.

Meanwhile, Zhou Shuanglin and Wen Lao sat together; Wen Lao gratefully praised Zhou Yinhe for saving Wen Ling, over and over.

"I've long known your five children each have their own strengths, especially your Xiao Wu—his sensibility really pleases this old man."

Zhou Shuanglin smiled while thinking, "What sensibility? It's all just an act for you."

But he didn't go sabotage Zhou Yinhe's tire, smiling and saying, "Wen Ling is still better—well-behaved and obedient; I hope she can teach Xiao Wu to be more steady."

Wen Lao and Zhou Shuanglin's thoughts differed as well; in his heart, his precious granddaughter was unmatched.

He laughed, accepted Zhou Shuanglin's praise, and warmly urged them to stay the night at Wen Garden.

Zhou Shuanglin hesitated at first, but after Wen Lao's insistence she agreed, then said embarrassedly, "I'm really sorry to trouble you."

"Of course." Wen Lao ordered the servant to clean the rooms and personally poured tea for Zhou Shuanglin with a smile.

The two groups chatted happily, except for Zhou Yinhe, who lay pitifully ignored at the head of the bed, scrolling on his phone with one hand.

The people in the group chat, having somehow learned of his injury, sent condolences one after another.

【"How serious is the injury? We'll fly to M Country tomorrow to see you."】

Zhou Yinhe replied: "【Not serious, just a small matter.】"

【"A gunshot wound is still a small matter? Everyone in the world knows about it—how can that be small?"】

Zhou Yinhe really didn't know about this, but he still replied: "【The bullet hit his shoulder; the wound isn't deep, just a bit of blood loss—he'll be fine soon.】"

【"Alright, that's great—so quick, when you're back come to the boxing arena with us and we'll each have a match."】

The other party's sarcastic tone left Zhou Yinhe speechless; he curled his lip, sent a cursing emoji, and put his phone away.

He turned his head, leaned against the pillow, and quietly watched Wen Ling chatting happily with his mother and sister-in-law.

Seeing this situation, for him it was the utmost satisfaction.

He stared for a long time, his blinks slowing, his eyes filled with a lovestruck gaze.

It was Ning Qing who first noticed, gesturing for Wen Ling to look at his son's worthless appearance.

Wen Ling looked over curiously, met Zhou Yinhe's gaze, and bit her lip, feeling a bit shy.

Even in front of her parents, Wen Ling didn't hold back—she gave him a glare.

Zhou Yinhe chuckled softly, rested his arm on his forehead, withdrew his gaze, and looked up at the chandelier.

Seeing he was about to fall asleep, Wen Ling whispered to Ning Qing, "Aunt, you and Uncle plus sister-in-law should go rest first—you've been on that long flight and must be tired."

Ning Qing glanced at her drowsy son, Wen Ling's thoughtfulness softening her heart; she smiled and patted Wen Ling's hand, signaling Shang Zhiyu and Zhou Shuanglin to leave.

Grandfather will help look after them, so Wen Ling wasn't worried; she stayed by Zhou Yinhe's side, staring at him in a daze.

That once arrogant, cold face now still looked a bit pale, giving him a touch of fragility; lying there quietly, Wen Ling couldn't resist leaning in to press her cheek against his.

She didn't know if others would think the same, but whenever she looked at Zhou Yinhe's face, she couldn't help wanting to make some affectionate gestures toward him.

She used to scold Zhou Yinhe for having skin hunger, but now it seems she's the one who does.

Recalling when she first returned, Zhou Yinhe coldly turned her away, driving her off; though she was hurt then, she remained determined to win him back.

Besides his unmatched kindness toward her, it's also his face and body that truly make her love him to the point of obsession.

Wen Ling doesn't mind people calling her a fangirl, after all she really is craving Zhou Yinhe.

Zhou Yinhe slept deeply, so Wen Ling took off her shoes, climbed onto the other side of the bed, took his hand, and closed her eyes to rest.

She was tired too—since Zhou Yinhe's injury she hadn't rested properly; now, as she relaxed, drowsiness washed over her.

In the evening, Zhou Yinhe finally woke; seeing him awake, Wen Ling personally wiped his face and hands, cleaned up the face she loved most, then asked what he wanted to eat.

Zhou Yinhe's diet isn't light, but after drinking several bowls of blood‑tonic soup, he truly couldn't stomach it any more.

"I don't want to eat those anymore—can I have something else?"

"What else?"

"Like something spicy, or maybe seafood?"

Wen Ling's smile vanished instantly; she snorted coldly and turned to leave.

"Just the blood‑tonic soup—don't even dream of spicy seafood; that's wishful thinking."

She changed her face so fast that Zhou Yinhe didn't even react before she left, and she deliberately made sure he heard her tell the servant to keep making blood‑tonic soup tonight.

Zhou Yinhe shouted at her: "Wen Ling, Lingling, don't treat me like that; if I drink that soup again I'll really vomit."

"Even if you vomit, you have to drink it; otherwise I'll go tell uncle, and make you stay longer at your second uncle's when you go back."