"Have so porridge."
Qin Miaomiao: ...
Even her husband wasn’t reliable—at this crucial mont, he didn’t stand on her side!
At night, they could only have porridge, and it was plain vegetable porridge, not a hint of at to be found, making it incredibly bland.
The four of them sat at the table, Mr. Jiu at the head, Qin Miaomiao and Lu Qing sitting on one side, Ou Beichen on the other, and a few dishes of pickled vegetables set out on the table.
Qin Miaomiao ate without tasting anything.
Still, the atmosphere seed quite harmonious—a family of four, finally gathered together.
After dinner, everyone returned to their rooms. Qin Miaomiao and Lu Qing’s room was a complete suite, including a bedroom and a study. In the study, she worked on her own tasks while Lu Qing handled his business affairs. Neither disturbed the other—they had long since fallen into this routine.
The screenplay was finally finished—it consisted of six high-concept short stories.
Each one was more mind-bending than the last. She had completely indulged her creative instincts without worrying about market demand, following only her own heart.
As for how to shoot and produce them, she’d need to refine those details in her future work.
Just as she set the computer down, her stomach started growling. She glanced over at Lu Qing, who was still on yet another call, replying to ssages.
She walked over to him and hugged him from behind.
"Darling, I’m hungry."
"Wait a sec, once I finish this, I’ll co feed you."
Qin Miaomiao playfully bit his neck. "Not *that* hungry—my stomach’s hungry. That Mr. Jiu insists on this health kick, porridge all the ti—I’m barely holding on."
"Ah, I see. Should I make you so noodles?"
"Can we order takeout? I think the wings from Golden Arches are pretty good, and maybe a burger too."
Lu Qing gave her a sidelong glance. "Honey, do you think that’s appropriate for soone of your status?"
"Totally appropriate. Why wouldn’t it be? Seems like delivery is still available. I’ll order! Do you want anything?"
Lu Qing stayed silent for a while, thinking the whole scenario felt odd. His wife, who owned the entire Putao manor, had such quirky, strangely down-to-earth tastes—it was hard not to admire her.
"Sure."
"Great! I’ll order extra. I’ll ask Xiao Chen if he wants so too."
A minute later:
"Xiao Chen said he wants so too. I ordered an extra roast chicken."
Lu Qing: ...
Sohow, the vibe felt completely off. Where was the air of an aloof and domineering CEO? Had they really fallen to the level of eating roast chicken late at night?
The delivery guy received the order, packed everything up, and headed out on his little scooter. He finally arrived at the gates of a vast estate: Putao manor.
Looking at the address on the order and then at the sprawling, pitch-black estate in front of him, he felt a growing unease.
This... this was an area he’d never been to before. Rumor had it this was the rich district, where only the ultra-wealthy could afford to live.
How was it even possible for soone here to order takeout?
Had he co to the wrong place?
Or worse—had he wandered into so ghostly trap?
The more he thought about it, the more terrified he beca, to the point he thought of turning tail and running.
Just then, the door creaked open. A pale hand reached out, scaring him so much that he scread, "Mommy!"
Little Seventh looked at the delivery guy in utter bewildernt as he practically threw the takeout bag into his hands and bolted, as if he’d just encountered a ghost.
Instinctively, Little Seventh touched his face. Could he really be that frightening?
Carrying the takeout bag inside, he found Qin Miaomiao, Lu Qing, Ou Beichen, and Little Sixth gathered in the living room. The group could practically set up a ga of mahjong.
Qin Miaomiao lowered her voice and said:
"Shh! Keep it quiet—don’t wake Mr. Jiu. Stay low-key and hurry up with the food—I’m starving."
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