Chapter 488: Back Home, Still the Sweet Naive

January 2014, the year-end was approaching, and two major events occurred worldwide.

The first major event was:

The family of the Third Brother west of the Himalayas confidently launched a satellite, wanting to prove its space prowess to the world, but the satellite gave the Third Brother no face, losing contact immediately after launch.

The second major event was:

Fan Ye rejected involution, saying no overtime, then no overtime.

This time over a hundred people were arrested in Haishan, the interrogation work piled up like a mountain, and the superiors were waiting for the case closure report—so what?

Lin Dongfan patted his butt and said, let's go, we're leaving.

As he was about to leave, Lin Dongfan said to Jian Sining: 'If you insist on devoting yourself entirely to work, then I can only admire you. Anyway, I'm going home for the New Year; a seven-day holiday, not a single day can be missed. Don't talk to me about responsibility and mission—my son and daughter are calling me. Farewell.'

The speechless Jian Sining could only smile and see him off, staying alone at the anti-corruption bureau to bear the brunt.

In order to have an independent living space and escape the elders' 'education' model, Lin Dongfan had already bought two apartments for Chu Lingxi, one in Wuzhou, Jianglan Province, and one in Jingcheng.

Usually Chu Lingxi lives wherever she wants.

But during the New Year period she definitely has to stay in Jingcheng; otherwise the old grandfather won't get to hear his great-grandson's cry, and the whole family will feel their scalps go numb.

"Honey, I'm home."

The moment he pushed open the front door, a complex smell assailed his nose—there was the scent of burnt food, the fragrance of children's body wash, and also some hard-to-describe chemical odor.

Lin Dongfan took a deep breath; he hadn't gotten the wrong door—this was the taste of the sweet naive running the household.

"Who are you?"

A chubby-headed, sturdy little boy lifted his head from the toy pile, his big, glossy black eyes looking dubiously at the 'stranger' in the doorway.

He was still holding a toy car missing a wheel.

This is three-and-a-half-year-old Lin Fuxing, born August 9, 2010; he perfectly inherited Lin Dongfan's childhood destructive power, but his eyes are full of wariness toward strangers.

On the nearby carpet, a pink-carved jade-like little girl with two little buns was struggling to stuff a plush bear into her mouth, drool smearing the bear's face.

This is two-year-old daughter Lin Zhao Xia, born November 2011.

Currently, Xiao Zhao Xia's greatest achievement in life is learning to use saliva to 'disinfect' anything—no matter what she catches, she stuffs it into her mouth.

"Husband?"

Chu Lingxi, wearing an apron emblazoned with 'Chef God', burst out of the kitchen like a gust of wind.

This is Lin Dongfan's lawful wife; after several years of marriage she hasn't changed a bit, her eyes are clear, and all her life skill points are invested in the 'can't do anything' category.

Her face was smeared with a messy white substance, likely flour, but her smile remained just as before—a slight grin that brought out two charming dimples.

After not seeing each other for several months, she was excited like a child.

Upon seeing Lin Dongfan, she jumped onto him, arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist, not afraid of straining his back, and said with a grin: 'Husband, guess what delicious thing I made for you.'

"Whatever you make is delicious."

Lin Dongfan cupped her buttocks with both hands, sniffing the burnt smell coming from the kitchen and the faint sizzling from the pot.

Suddenly he felt a huge pressure.

Words can be spoken recklessly against one's conscience.

But once the so-called 'delicacies' are served, how will we swallow them later? Looking at this situation, the two nannies must have gone home for the New Year; otherwise the house wouldn't be in such a mess.

Lin Dongfan glanced at the kitchen, which was emitting smoke.

He gently reminded: 'Honey, the kitchen seems to be smoking—are you refining pills? Do you smell something odd about the medicinal aura?'

"Refining pills?"

Chu Lingxi looked bewildered.

After a moment of dazed silence, she turned her head toward the kitchen: 'There's no pill refining; I'm making sweet and sour spare ribs for you, currently caramelizing the sugar. I covered the pot lest it splash on me—that's not smoke, it's steam.'

"Oh, that's how it is."

With a faint smile, Lin Dongfan embraced the sweet naive and entered the kitchen, turning off the fire; as for the situation in the pot billowing with thick smoke, one could tell without looking—the transparent glass lid had already been blackened by smoke.

"Huh? Why is there a burnt smell?"

Chu Lingxi sniffed, sensing something amiss, she lowered her legs to the floor, lifted the pot lid, and a puff of hot black smoke rose.

She couldn't see anything, really couldn't see what was in the pot.

She waved her hand to fan the air.

After the black smoke cleared, she stared into the pot and was dumbfounded, wondering how it could have burnt so quickly.

She stood there thinking for a moment.

She hastily put the pot lid back on and forced out an embarrassed, silly smile: 'Husband… maybe… we should just go out to eat…'

"Let me do it—what would you like to eat?"

Lin Dongfan took off her apron, wrapped it around himself, grabbed some water, and wiped the white flour off her face.

Throughout, Chu Lingxi kept looking at Lin Dongfan like he was her idol, smiling without blinking.

She seemed not to have heard his question.

In the basin there was a lump of kneaded flour, but its state was hard to describe—like thin mud in places, yet dry in others.

On the cutting board lay a perch.

The fish's back had been scored with decorative cuts.

One of those cuts only went halfway before stopping, the edge still stained with a trace of fresh blood, while the fish itself was washed clean—that must not be the fish's blood.

Considering all these details with a detective's mindset, Lin Dongfan furrowed his brow.

Lin Dongfan picked up Chu Lingxi's left hand and, as expected, found she had cut her finger; her index finger was wrapped in a band-aid, but it wasn't a waterproof one.

Lin Dongfan asked with a smile: 'Does it hurt?'

Chu Lingxi quickly shook her head, a little embarrassed, and hastily pulled her hand back: 'Husband, I didn't do it on purpose—please don't laugh at me.'

"Who would deliberately cut themselves? It's not like you have a brain tumor—I get it." Lin Dongfan pushed her out of the kitchen: 'Go take care of the kids.'

"They can play by themselves, they don't need me to bring them, I'll help you." Chu Lingxi clung, not wanting to leave; after saying that, she rushed back to the kitchen, preparing to continue dealing with the fish that wasn't finished.

Lin Dongfan scooped her up in a princess carry.

He carried her straight to the living room and flung her onto the soft sofa.

Then he issued another domineering order: "Stay here, you're not allowed to enter the kitchen without my summons."

"Oh."

This time Chu Lingxi behaved herself, feeling that doing nothing would be boring. She turned her head to look at her son and daughter; both were sitting on the floor, one taking apart toys, the other chewing a stuffed doll. Chu Lingxi smiled again, feeling truly fortunate to have given birth to two children who need no supervision.

She ought to be grateful that her mother, Shen Junlan, is not here.

If Shen Junlan saw the baby stuffing the doll into its mouth, she would immediately harshly criticize: "How can you be a mother, letting the child chew a doll full of bacteria?"

It's not like I've only been scolded once or twice; anyway, you scold your own, this miss hasn't heard a thing.

In Chu Lingxi's view, kids just like to bite things—either they bite toys or suck their fingers; are fingers clean? As long as the child doesn't cry or make a fuss, then all is peaceful.

"Husband."

It's too boring; playing with the kids is no match for keeping the husband company.

Chu Lingxi sneaked into the kitchen again, taking advantage of Lin Dongfan's inattention, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind: "How about we don't cook? I want to take a bath, you help me scrub my back."