Huo Rou dodged the warmth near her ear, feeling that Qin Ningyi was quite different from the man she knew before.
*Knock, knock, knock—*
"Dad, why did you lock the door? An An is here to help!" After speaking with Old Wang outside, An An came to the kitchen as usual, only to find the door locked.
"I want to stay," Qin Ningyi said without being disturbed by the sound outside, earnestly pleading to be kept.
Huo Rou's ears grew hot. After holding her breath and concentrating, she detached herself from Qin Ningyi's embrace with an odd posture and speed.
As she opened the door and walked out, she said quickly, "Hurry up and make your food!"
An An looked at his mother, whose ears had turned red, for reasons he couldn't understand. He then looked at his father, who was smiling heartily. "Dad, why is Mom in the kitchen?"
"I was talking to Mom about something," Qin Ningyi vaguely replied.
While the older and younger ones were busy in the kitchen, Huo Rou accompanied Old Wang in the living room.
"Xiao Rou, write me a set too, I'll hang it at home later." Old Wang looked at the calligraphy on the wall with great satisfaction.
Huo Rou shook her head. "You're staying with me, why would you go back?"
"There's no one there to take care of you." Huo Rou was worried that Old Wang might have a sudden relapse, and no one would know if he was alone.
Old Wang knew Huo Rou's concern and deliberately teased her, "As if you know how to take care of people. I still need An An to help me here. Look at you, you're not even as capable as your son."
Huo Rou smiled with peace of mind. "My son is amazing, and I'm happy about it."
Old Wang looked at the calligraphy again, still wanting Huo Rou to write him a set. His health might not hold up any day now; he wanted to leave a piece of Huo Rou's calligraphy for his wife to see.
"Whether I take it home or not, write it for me now, don't change the subject." Old Wang glared and pointed at the desk, demanding.
Huo Rou saw his stubbornness, like an old child, and was willing to play along.
She walked to the desk, picked up the brush, and asked him with a smile, "What should I write?"
Old Wang looked at the calligraphy on the wall and told her, "Write this one, the layout should be the same. I want to compare them carefully."
With a bold stroke, Huo Rou completed the same poem, "Zhongnan Bieye," under her brush.
It was a regular script, which she rarely wrote.
Old Wang had never seen her write such neat regular script. He picked up the piece and praised it, "Elegant and pure, yet it reveals a sense of tranquility and gentleness from the brushstrokes. A beautiful woman should be as gentle and delicate as this! Good! Good calligraphy!"
He had seen the ferocity in Huo Rou's strokes, and he had also seen her current vigorous and unrestrained style, but he had never seen her write regular script. It had a completely different temperament from her running script.
Seeing his happiness, Huo Rou put down her brush. She disliked writing regular script; it held too many childhood memories, her most carefree years.
She didn't want to lose even this trace of the past, so she had always presented herself with running script.
Today, she made an exception for Old Wang's happiness.
"I've written it. Do you want to write one too?" Huo Rou raised an eyebrow at him.
Old Wang carefully put away the calligraphy. He was very surprised when he heard her say that. "Oh, has the sun risen in the west? Xiao Rou is actually asking for my calligraphy now?"
His calligraphy was rumored to be worth a thousand gold per character in the outside world. However, he had to actively offer these thousands of gold to Huo Rou before she would accept them, which had once made him doubt himself.
Now, besides inner satisfaction, there was more confusion.
Huo Rou gestured towards the kitchen with her chin. "His grandmother likes your calligraphy. Her health doesn't seem to be very good lately. Would you fulfill her wish and make her happy?"
Old Wang enjoyed contemplating calligraphy. If there was anything that could make him happy, it was only writing and appreciating calligraphy. It was a win-win situation. He couldn't possibly let Qin Ningyi get entangled with that Wang Wanrou over a piece of calligraphy again.
"I knew it. You're being so generous and writing me such a piece of calligraphy today. So that's your real motive!"
Old Wang's eyes were playful, but his heart was satisfied.
The little girl who was once aloof and detached had gained warmth because of someone.
"We'll see, we'll see."
Old Wang waved his hand and walked towards the dining table.
Huo Rou had only suggested it; Old Wang's happiness was the most important thing now.
The table was filled with dishes, all with sour and spicy flavors, except for the pumpkin pot, which was relatively bland.
Qin Ningyi specifically placed the pumpkin pot in front of him. Old Wang looked at the spread of dishes and understood immediately. Clearly, the pumpkin pot was prepared especially for him.
The other dishes were all to the taste of the mother and son.
During the meal, Old Wang quietly observed Qin Ningyi. He possessed an innate confidence, but he was not arrogant like those successful rich young men. The indulgence in his eyes when he served Huo Rou was undeniable.
Although this little A Rou's cooking skills were not good, the men around her doted on her. Even An An had doted on her since he was young, learning to cook for her.
Old Wang looked at the harmonious and happy family of three before him, and he was very pleased. He could also rest assured.
After the meal, Qin Ningyi sat on the sofa with a leisurely air and refused to move. Old Wang watched him with great interest. When it was time for An An to sleep, he led Old Wang back to the bedroom, leaving only Huo Rou and Qin Ningyi.
"Old Wang's condition is not good. I'll stay here so I can help if anything happens," Qin Ningyi said to her, with a very noble excuse. "Besides, tomorrow morning we'll have noodles. Don't you want some toppings to go with them?"
That's right. Qin Ningyi had been stimulated by Shen Wuyou. Since he started staying here, he had been cooking noodles every day, with different toppings each day. He had completely conquered the appetites of Huo Rou and An An.
Outside, the wind was raging. He glanced out the window and added, "I'll sleep on the sofa. Just give me a quilt."
In the middle of the night, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and a fierce storm raged.
Shenfeng suddenly woke up, circled Huo Rou's door a few times, then went to Qin Ningyi and pawed at him.
"Mew... mew..." Shenfeng whimpered softly. Qin Ningyi opened his eyes and looked at it.
It quickly ran to Huo Rou's door and circled a few times, then came to the sofa and whined softly.
Qin Ningyi held his breath and heard the sound of Huo Rou opening her curtains in her bedroom.
It was three in the morning.
He held his phone, the message already edited but not yet sent. After hesitating for a moment, he finally stood up and gently knocked on Huo Rou's door.
"What is it?"
Huo Rou knew he was coming when she heard his footsteps. She asked in a low voice.
Qin Ningyi looked at the whimpering wind outside and the lightning that split the sky, hearing the low rumble of thunder.
The thought of Huo Rou standing by the window watching this weather made him feel inexplicably distressed. He had intended to ask her why she couldn't sleep, but what came out of his mouth was:
"Come out and talk to me."
He wanted to keep her company; he didn't want her to watch the rain alone.