Bringing the Nation's Husband Home

Back home, Qiao Anhao first went into the bathroom to pick up the pregnancy tests she’d left on the floor and chucked them into a black trash bag. She then grabbed the test results from the hospital and circled the bedroom for a place to hide them. In the end, she crawled over the fluffy rug and shoved the sheets under the bed. That’s when she saw a familiar looking metal box.

She froze for a moment, then pulled it out. She opened it to find an aged RMB note, a plane ticket, a train ticket, and a light blue envelope covered in pink hearts.

She had planned to give it to Lu Jinnian on his birthday. But to hide the surprise gift she had bought for him that day, she needed to hide the box under the bed. Later, because all she could think about was how he aborted their child, so much so she left him, she just assumed that she had put the metal box in her suitcase.

If she hadn’t stumbled upon it under the bed today, who knows how long it would’ve stayed there for?

Qiao Anhao stared at the things in the metal box for a while, then slightly curved her lips. She put the pregnancy sticks and check up results inside, closed the lid, and put it back under the bed.

-

When Xu Jiamu arrived back at Su Yuan apartments, Song Xiangsi was wearing an apron and cooking in the kitchen.

It was an open kitchen, so when he removed his shoes at the entrance, he instantly saw her holding a knife like an expert, yet completely unregulated and ungraceful, as she sliced a cucumber.

The vent was clearly on, but for some reason Song Xiangsi managed to fill the room with smoke. When she heard the sound of the door opening, she covered her mouth and let out a cough. Turning her head, she bluntly said to him, ”You’re back? Wash your hands for dinner.”

Without waiting for Xu Jiamu to answer, she turned her head right back around. Holding the knife with two hands, she randomly chopped the cucumber on the chopping board as though she was going to kill someone. Then, she picked it up and divided the slices into two bowls.

She picked them, one in each hand, and then planted them hard onto the dinning table with a ”PA!”. She furrowed her brows at Xu Jiamu who stood in the living with raised eyebrows. ”What are you doing blanking out? Are you not going to eat?”

”En,” Xu Jiamu responded, going to the bathroom to wash his hands. He then sat down in front of Song Xiangsi. Just as he picked up his chopsticks, he looked at the dark mess in his bowl and dropped them down in shock with a ”PALA!”. ”Song Xiangsi, can you tell me what the hell is this?”

She calmly lifted her eyes, a matter-of-fact expression on her face. ”Fried sauce noodles. What? You’ve never had it before?”

”Fried sauce noodles? Fried sauce noodles at your house looks like this?” Xu Jiamu picked up his chopsticks again and lifted the knotted mess of noodles, the unevenly thick and thin excuse for cucumber strips, and the pitch-black sauce. He let out an evil chuckle. ”Hehe, I couldn’t tell.”

As his words dropped, Song Xiangsi grabbed his bowl in a swoop and without saying a word was ready to pour it into the bin. Xu Jiamu grabbed the bowl back with his sharp reflexes. He stirred the noodles with his chopsticks for a long time, forcibly picked up a string of them and put into his mouth. The next second, Xu Jiamu grabbed for the cup beside him and gulped the water down in an instant.

”Song Xiangsi, just how much salt did you add?”