Chapter 397: There

Li Ye finally succeeded in pinning her against the wall, and the consequence was a few playful cat-punches.

Wen Leyu, still huffing, pulled out several blueprints and blushed: "Look at these—I drew them yourself. Don't care if they're standard or not—just tell me if this layout works."

Li Ye took them and saw they were a 1980s-style interior design plan.

Though far simpler and cruder than modern 3D renderings, every line radiated earnest effort—clearly, Wen Leyu had poured her heart into them.

Li Ye praised enthusiastically: "Wow, Xiao Yu! You can even draw this? Amazing, truly impressive!"

"Of course!"

Wen Leyu proudly pulled out a stack of sketchbooks: "I got my hands on foreign magazines, studied Russian styles too—if you hadn't said not to make it too Western, I could've made it even trendier."

Undeniably, Wen Leyu's horizons surpassed those of ordinary people in this era—she'd at least accessed things most couldn't dream of.

Li Ye flipped through the sketchbooks, then said: "We bought this courtyard for space and convenience, so keep the exterior as-is, but we can overhaul the inside more boldly."

"But some of your layouts are impractical—for example, you've allocated too much space to me, which I'll never use, while giving yourself too little."

Wen Leyu's renovation plan revolved entirely around Li Ye as the "head of household," with a hint of patriarchal bias.

Decades later, every little wife would claw away every room, cabinet, and closet, leaving the man only a few cardboard boxes for clothes and socks—after all, he owned so few garments.

And no matter how many cabinets there were, the woman's clothes would never fit.

But under Wen Leyu's plan, this sihe courtyard gave Li Ye a study, a storage room, a fitness equipment room—scattered spaces eating up tons of area—while leaving herself barely anything.

How could Li Ye not feel Wen Leyu's thoughtfulness, her devotion?

Gender equality means equal respect—when a girl goes out of her way for you, shouldn't you think for her too?

So he pointed at her blueprint: "My study and storage room can be merged—one room's enough; easier to find things."

"No need for a fitness room—I've got maybe two long spears, two wooden ones, bundle them up and toss them in the corner."

"Use these two freed-up rooms: one for your music room—you still owe me guitar lessons! Lately, you've been slacking off as my little teacher!"

"The other one? Make it your walk-in closet—this wall for built-in wardrobes, that wall for shoe cabinets."

Li Ye grabbed red and blue pencils and scribbled over Wen Leyu's blueprint, transforming it beyond recognition.

Seeing her days of hard work ruined, Wen Leyu wasn't angry at all.

"A whole wall of shoe cabinets? Are you turning me into a shoe shop owner?"

Wen Leyu listened quietly until Li Ye finished, then said seriously: "Don't always go out of your way to be good to me—I like being cherished, but our life together is long! Don't waste so much."

"Besides, the shoes you bought me for Spring Festival? One pair hasn't even touched the ground yet!"

Li Ye stared at Wen Leyu for a long while, then sighed, reached out, and ruffled her hair fiercely.

Even the best girlfriend from his past life spent her days dreaming of when he'd strike it rich, take her traveling, buy her bags, clothes, and shoes.

Yet here was Wen Leyu—her status far above theirs, holding hundreds of thousands of dollars in royalties from him—and yet she talked to him about "living," about "not wasting." Just think how it made his heart feel.

This was the taste of "virtuous, gentle, and virtuous."

"Xiao Yu, you're saying this too late—last week, Xiao Hui and Xiao Ruo went to Hong Kong for two days and bought you several pairs of shoes. See how you want to handle them."

Li Ye turned and pulled in two suitcases he'd brought back.

These were the rolling suitcases that Pei Wencong had designed based on Li Ye's ideas, patented in Hong Kong, Europe, and the U. ., now just beginning trial production and ready for mass market launch.

Inside the suitcases were nothing but shoeboxes—nearly two dozen pairs.

Li Ye unpacked them one by one, arranging them around Wen Leyu like a circle.

Li Ye sighed helplessly: "These are all non-returnable—pick out the ones you don't like and give them away."

Wen Leyu fell silent for a moment, then fretted: "Did Xiao Ruo spend her own money on these? How could you let her spend so much on me?"

Li Ye shook his head: "Xiao Ruo has almost no pocket money—my mom watches her tightly. I gave her cash to shop in Hong Kong, and she spent most of it on you."

Wen Leyu stared at the floor—high heels, sneakers, sandals—all brand-new, all stylish.

She looked up at Li Ye, then down at the shoes, then back at him, swallowing hard as she gazed at the shoes.

Finally, she whispered: "These really can't be returned?"

Li Ye grunted: "You could return them—but only in Hong Kong. Round-trip tickets cost a fortune—it's not worth the hassle."

"You keep spending recklessly—you'll spoil me! If you spend more, I'll tell my mom!"

Wen Leyu muttered complaints while fiddling with the shoes, her large, watery eyes slowly shimmering.

The saying "A woman's wardrobe always lacks one pair of shoes" endures because it strikes at the core of a woman's vanity.

Wen Leyu was undoubtedly a special girl—but she still loved beauty.

Li Ye propped his chin on his hands, crouched on the floor, watching her try on shoes one by one, strut back and forth like a model—this money was absolutely worth every cent.

After nearly three years of training, Wen Leyu had been shaped by Li Ye into "fair-skinned, beautiful, long-legged"—and with the resources at home, how could you not invest in a cultivation game?

If you don't spend, what's the point of a cultivation game? Are you raising pigs?

"These two pairs don't fit me well—I'll give them to my mom."

After sorting through all the shoes, Wen Leyu picked out a few with mismatched sizes, planning to bribe her mother.

Li Ye nodded: "Your call—give them to whoever you like."

"Mm-hmm."

Wen Leyu happily packed the boxes, then suddenly remembered something and warned Li Ye: "If Mom asks, say these shoes cost thirteen yuan each—like at the department store."

Li Ye: "..."

Sis, do you think Teacher Ke is stupid?

"Oh no, it's already past twelve—I'll go cook for you."

Wen Leyu glanced at her watch and rushed to the kitchen.

Li Ye rolled up his sleeves and followed: "Let me cook—you rest."

"No, this time I'll make it authentic—delicious!"

Wen Leyu confidently turned on the gas stove, boiled water, then dumped in several packets of "seasoning and ingredients."

Li Ye: "..."

Just what the hell does authentic instant noodles taste like?

"Eat, eat! I had a late breakfast—I'm still full!"

The noodles were served; Wen Leyu scooped both eggs into Li Ye's bowl, leaving herself only half a bowl of noodles.

Li Ye smiled and took a bite.

Mm—this bowl of instant noodles? Full of the taste of love.

(End of Chapter)