Chapter 41: Don’t You Owe Me an Explanation?

She only cast a glance at the final few messages at the very bottom of the chat box.

Friday 01:56

Cheng: – [How much longer are you going to disappear?]

Friday 20:18

Cheng: – [My patience is limited, show up now!]

Yesterday 22:32

Cheng: – [I’ll give you one last day.]

Shi Kezhen stared at his very last sentence.

‘One last day?’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Is he going to break up with her if she doesn’t contact him?’

Shi Kezhen curled the corners of her mouth slightly, lacking even the strength to let out a laugh.

She tapped her screen a few times and typed.

Yao: – […]

***

At the same time.

In Xingyu Bar, private booth 777.

Several opened bottles of imported liquor sat on the coffee table, and crushed nuts from the snack dishes were scattered all over.

Just like last night, there were only three people in the private room, and even the audio system wasn’t turned on.

Gao Cheng leaned back on the sofa, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping.

Jiang Zhexi and Jiang Chengshuo were chatting idly about various things.

“Ding.”

The phone on the coffee table chimed, and the screen instantly lit up.

Gao Cheng, who had seemed fast asleep, opened his eyes in a reflex, sat up, and darted a glance at the phone screen.

On the lock screen, a WeChat notification popped up.

Yao: – […]

His pupils contracted sharply, his heart instantly skipping a beat.

He snatched up the phone, unlocked it, and tapped into the app with lightning-fast finger speed.

Yao: – […]

The person who had completely vanished for two whole weeks had sent only a string of ellipses.

Gao Cheng lacked the patience to even reply with text.

He directly pressed the video call request.

The other party declined it in a second.

He called again.

The other party declined again in a second.

His breathing grew heavy, and he gritted his teeth as he typed.

Cheng: – [Answer!]

Yao: – [It’s not convenient to speak, let’s type.]

Cheng: – [Today is the weekend; which weekend night has it been inconvenient for you to speak? Are you not at home?]

Yao: – [If you want to pick a fight, then I’m going to sleep.]

The Prince’s fiery temper flared!

Gao Cheng stared at that line of text, only feeling a surge of anger rushing up from his chest.

She had vanished for two weeks, and now she was treating him with such coldness; was he not even allowed to show a trace of temper?

If it were anyone else, he would have blocked them directly.

But this was his wifey.

The wifey he had been yearning for, waiting for two weeks, and finally receiving a reply from.

What could he do?

He had anger, but he had to swallow it himself.

Gao Cheng took a deep breath, and then another, adjusting his breathing several times before finally calming down a bit.

He didn’t dare delay for too long, fearing she would really go to sleep and vanish once again.

Jiang Zhexi and Jiang Chengshuo exchanged a glance nearby.

What was wrong with Gao Cheng?

What was he exercising restraint over?

Cheng: – [Don’t you owe me an explanation?]

Cheng: – [Or, do I not even deserve to hear a single explanation from you?]

***

Shi Kezhen stared at his two aggrieved, wife-like messages; looking at the word “deserve,” her heart was lightly pricked.

In this matter, she was indeed in the wrong.

But she didn’t want him to hear her obviously weak voice; she felt too vulnerable like this.

In front of him, she had always been capricious and arrogant, a bit domineering and slightly unreasonable.

She was not like this.

Although her stomach no longer ached today, she had only eaten a single bowl of millet porridge for all three meals.

Her body was still very weak, lacking any strength, and her voice would be equally feeble.

So she didn’t dare video chat with him; she didn’t want him to see her in this state.

She could only type to him.

She really ought to give him a reasonable explanation, but what kind of excuse should she find?

She couldn’t tell him the real situation.

After a moment of thought, Shi Kezhen decided to turn the tables on him.

After all, she had always been unbridled, somewhat willful, and unreasonable in front of him.

Yao: – [Because I am angry at you.]

Cheng: – [?]

Cheng: – [May I ask when I made you angry?]

Cheng: – [Or did I commit some unforgivable sin without my knowledge that made you punish me like this?]

Yao: – [I was in a very bad mood that day and wanted you to keep me company, but I waited for a long time and you didn’t reply, so I got angry.]

Cheng: – [I was busy at the time and replied as soon as I saw it, but you vanished for two whole weeks; who is the one who should actually be angry?]

Yao: – [Regardless, it was your fault for not showing up when I needed you most.]

Yao: – [#Hmph#]

Yao: – [#This princess is angry#]

***

Gao Cheng stared at those two cute emojis, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

He was angry.

He should be angry.

But she had cute-talked, sending a cute #Hmph# emoji followed by a #This princess is angry# emoji.

His anger deflated like a punctured balloon, shrinking reluctantly.

Cheng: – [Fine, you can be angry, but you can’t just disappear! Do you know how anxious I was? I thought you had vanished from the face of the earth!]

Shi Kezhen bit her lower lip slightly, feeling some heartache for him.

She believed he had truly been anxious; he had always been sincere to her.

She whispered “I’m sorry” to her phone.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t hear it.

Yao: – [Hubby, I’m not angry anymore.]

Cheng: – […]

Gao Cheng stared at that line of text, feeling as though his stomach was still full of complaints and grievances, but…

She had appeared, and she was back; this was more important than anything.

Cheng: – [Wifey, promise me, no matter how angry you get in the future, you won’t disappear again.]

Cheng: – [If I did something wrong or made you unhappy, you can tell me. You can punish me however you want, as long as you don’t disappear.]

Cheng: – [Promise me.]

Shi Kezhen looked at these three messages, her nose feeling a bit sour as her eyes began to mist over.

Yao: – [Okay.]

Cheng: – [Wifey, I miss you so much. Let’s video chat. We won’t do anything; I just want to see you and hear your voice.]

Shi Kezhen hesitated.

Yao: – [It’s really not very convenient tonight, how about tomorrow? Tomorrow I’ll make time to contact you first.]

Cheng: – [If it’s not convenient to speak, then don’t speak; I just want to see you.]

Gao Cheng’s attitude was very firm.

Yao: – [Okay.]

The other party immediately sent a video call request.

Shi Kezhen pressed to answer.

On her screen appeared a dimly lit, colorful space; it didn’t look like his room.

– “Wifey.”

The familiar voice came from the phone, and Shi Kezhen realized that she, too, had missed this voice dearly.

In the private booth, from the moment Gao Cheng took out his phone and lowered his head to focus on texting, Jiang Zhexi and Jiang Chengshuo had been staring at him continuously.

Watching his reactions, both of them had guessed it.

The person texting him was likely his “wifey” who had been missing for two weeks.

Only when they suddenly heard him softly utter the word “wifey” in a gentle tone did they finally confirm it.

The person who had vanished for two weeks had finally reappeared.

The two exchanged glances, confirming with their eyes that they both wanted to see their sister-in-law.

By tacit agreement, they crowded around, two heads leaning against Gao Cheng’s shoulders on either side, four eyes brushing in unison toward his phone screen.

They simply wanted to see what kind of enchanting demon his online wife was, to have bewitched their usually haughty best brother, the Prince of the Jingzhou social circle, into this state.