Chapter 46: and translation of title

Your second older brother may be over thirty and still without a girlfriend, but he is steady; aside from work, he never goes out to fool around. And your eldest sister, besides being busy with company affairs, gets along very well with the noble ladies' daughters in Sijiucheng. As for your second sister, needless to say, she is currently touring abroad, surrounded by peers who share the same hobbies and interests. Moreover, both sisters are girls, so there's no rush to find a boyfriend.

Ning Qing went on at length, praising all the brothers and sisters in the family except Zhou Yinhe, but overlooked Zhou Yinhe, who was the listener.

Zhou Yinhe gave a faint 'oh', then told the stylist: 'After the dye, give me a perm.'

All right, Fifth Young Master.

Ning Qing was so annoyed by his lukewarm response that Ning Qing could barely catch breath, and snapped: 'I've told you all that, and you haven't listened, right?'

'I heard.' Zhou Yinhe looked at the screen, seeing his own mother so angry her eyes widened, and he asked puzzledly: 'What's up?'

Ning Qing rubbed Ning Qing's chest, muttering: 'I don't know if I ate something wrong while pregnant with you, somehow giving birth to this good-for-nothing.'

She ended the video call, and Zhou Shuanglin came out of the bathroom, seeing his wife's brows tightly knit as she panted heavily, and asked: 'What's wrong? Why are you so angry?'

'It's not anyone else's fault but your son!' Ning Qing threw the phone at him, gnashing her teeth: 'You've passed on your talent for feigning ignorance; at over twenty, he's started to rebel!'

Zhou Shuanglin took the phone and chuckled: 'I told you back then not to have another child, but you didn't listen. While pregnant with him he was already unruly, and after birth it's even worse—he's been nasty from the start, bullying each of his older siblings in turn, and you know that.'

Ning Qing, exasperated, pursed Ning Qing's lips and said plaintively: 'All four kids look like you; I just wanted one who looked like me—is that too much to ask? How was I to know he'd have this temperament?'

'All right, don't be angry—getting angry will give you wrinkles. Tomorrow I'll call him back and give him a talking-to; if that doesn't work, I'll use family discipline and give him a spanking to vent your anger, okay?' Zhou Shuanglin sat on the edge of the bed, put an arm around Ning Qing's shoulders, and coaxed her softly.

Upon hearing that, Ning Qing objected again: 'You're not allowed to hit my son.'

Zhou Shuanglin was speechless, and helplessly said: 'Fine, I won't hit him.'

Lying in bed, Ning Qing tossed and turned, unable to sleep, while Zhou Shuanglin, weary, yawned and patted Ning Qing's shoulder: 'Why aren't you sleeping yet?'

Ning Qing turned on the bedside lamp, sat up, and said to him: 'I'm still worried about Xiao Wu. You said he was injured so badly back then—why does he still remain entangled with Wen Ling?'

Zhou Shuanglin fought off drowsiness, sat up, pulled Ning Qing into Zhou Shuanglin's embrace, and advised: 'Xiao Wu is already this old; he has his own standards for judging anything. You only see that Wen Ling dumped our Xiao Wu, but we don't know exactly what happened. Even Xiao Wu could forget it—why do you still cling to it?'

Ning Qing bit Ning Qing's lip and muttered: 'If I'd known earlier, I shouldn't have raised him; I'd have saved myself a lot of trouble.'

Zhou Shuanglin chuckled lightly; if Ning Qing herself said it, it would be fine, but if it were him and the four siblings saying this, Ning Qing would fly into a rage.

'All right, all right, go to sleep.'

Zhou Yinhe, oblivious to his mother's anger, lowered his gaze and tapped out a message to Wen Ling on his phone.

Wen Ling only occasionally replied with a sentence, which made him feel deeply uneasy.

After his hair was done, it was already twelve o'clock; Zhou Yinhe drove alone to Lang Po Wan and parked the car without hesitation at the entrance of Building 7.

Wen Ling had slept too much during the day and couldn't fall asleep; she sat on the balcony drinking wine and enjoying the evening breeze when the sports car's piercing roar shattered the quiet night. She rose, walked to the railing, and looked down— a black supercar was parked at the entrance.

Zhou Yinhe opened the car door, stepped out, and leaned lazily against the door, lifting his gaze to the second-floor balcony where his eyes met Wen Ling's.

When Wen Ling saw him, she was genuinely stunned; before she could react, her heart began to race.

Under the dim yellow streetlamp, he leaned against the black car door; his naturally pallid skin looked even whiter against his red hair, his hair slightly curled, complementing that top-tier model face, making him appear languid yet alluring.

Wen Ling placed her fingers on her chest, stepped back two steps to lean against the round table, and her cheeks flushed involuntarily.

Remembering that saying from the internet—'My heartbeat recognizes you before I do'—as applied to them it would probably be changed to: 'My heartbeat wants to sleep with you even more than I do.'

Zhou Yinhe saw her silhouette disappear, pressed his lips together and rang the doorbell; Wen Ling messaged the night guards, telling them not to intervene and to go rest, then she descended the stairs slowly, and speaking through the lattice iron door, she bit her lip and asked: 'How did you come here?'

'I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to take a look at your doorstep.' Zhou Yinhe lowered his gaze, his eyelashes flickering, a hint of grievance in his voice: 'I messaged you and you didn't reply; I wanted to come see you but you wouldn't let me, so I can only quench my thirst by looking at plums.'

'…' That idiom can actually be used like this. Wen Ling opened the door, lifted her eyes to his, and gave a soft hum: 'Do you even know your car is noisy?'

How could Zhou Yinhe not know? He was doing it on purpose.

And how could Wen Ling not know Zhou Yinhe's little thoughts? She gave him a glare and turned back into the villa.

Zhou Yinhe lowered his eyes to hide the smile about to spill over, stepped forward to follow Wen Ling, and didn't forget to close the door.

Wen Ling pointed to the guest room opposite the master bedroom and said: 'You'll stay in this room.'

Zhou Yinhe glanced at the guest room door, then at Wen Ling; his nearly 1.9-meter frame stepped forward cautiously, gently took Wen Ling's hand, and whispered: 'Can't I sleep in the master bedroom with you? I promise I won't do anything.'

Wen Ling was left speechless; looking at Zhou Yinhe's face and hairstyle, and the faintly visible smooth, sensual muscle lines beneath his thin shirt, she softened once more: 'All right, then behave yourself.'

Zhou Yinhe gave an affirmative hum, walked past Wen Ling into the master bedroom, conscientiously went to the bathroom to wash up, and finally, citing lack of pajamas and his cleanliness obsession—yesterday's clothes couldn't be worn today—he emerged wearing only a towel.

Wen Ling lay on the bed playing with her phone, saw his worthless appearance, rolled her eyes, turned to another angle, and kept playing.

Although she craved his body, having him for two days straight would be too much for her to handle.

Zhou Yinhe didn't care about her lack of response, walked to the bed, pulled off the towel, and climbed under the covers.

At first he was still somewhat honest, but gradually he became unrestrained.

First he placed his hand on Wen Ling's waist, claiming he couldn't sleep without holding something; then his fingers crept upward, with the excuse that it wasn't intentional.

Wen Ling pried open his dishonest hand, gritted her teeth, and said: 'Are you sleeping or not? If not, get out!'

Zhou Yinhe blinked and whispered: 'I am sleeping.'

Having said that, he pulled Wen Ling beneath him, and Wen Ling snapped: 'What are you doing?'

Zhou Yinhe really is a master at feigning ignorance.

'Wasn't it you who asked if I was sleeping or not?'