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Translated by newbienoona

Edited and proofread by anks

The middle-aged woman hears Han QIlu and immediately nods. "Go ahead while I look for the key. I'll put it on the counter."

Her ugly smile makes An Chuxia sick. She looks indifferently at the landlady as she runs out of the fruit shop to find the key. Suddenly, Han Qilu's warm hand wraps around her cold hand. He closes in and bends at the waist to kiss her superficially on the lips. He leans to her ear and says, "Future Han Group's President's wife, your lips are quite sweet."

Her face becomes flush. She looks at him and takes advantage of the opportunity to kick his foot. She doesn't hit him hard, but he grimaces in pain.

"Hey! You're calling for the murder of your husband?" He purses his lips in discontent as An Chuxia giggles. He turns his head and sees the landlady with the keys.

"This is the key to the room. I won't walk you back. No one would be able to tend to the customers." Her appearance changes arbitrarily, exaggerating her docile behavior in front of Chuxia.

Qilu takes the key from the landlady and stares straight into her eyes. He pulls out a blank check from his pocket and writes a series of digits. He throws the pen down and the check on the ground. "Thank you for taking care of my fiancée. This is your earning."

The landlady picks up the check from the ground. Her mouth opens as she sees enough zeroes to open a dozen fruit shops. No, a dozen of very large fruit shops.

"Let's go, my dear." Han Qilu pulls An Chuxia's slender wrist as he turns away. His vision is bright, but no one sees his look that kills. This is his last compensation to this woman because she'll soon leave this world! If she wants to insult An Chuxia, she must pay the price!

They return to the rented room. As Han Qilu opens the the door, she suddenly feels so uncomfortable. She asks, "Han Qilu, are you sick?"

Han Qilu opens the door without disregard. Without thinking, he enters the room, hitting his head on the top of the door frame. He utters loudly, "Ouch! How low is this door frame?"

Chuxia rolls her eyes at him. "Do you think we, poor people, live like your family? When you pa.s.s through the door, you must duck. This teaches you to lower your head in the appropriate time!" She shoves Han Qilu in the room. The house has a pleasant scent. It smells like the fragrant camphor tree.

Since she left in a hurry, the room hasn't had much dust settle. However, its appearance is empty. He lowers his head and discovers the apartment unexpectedly only has two rooms: a bathroom and a bedroom. The bedroom has the gas oven!

Sizing up the room, he deduces the kitchen and the bedroom are merged. She actually grew up in such surroundings. Despite being small, it's arranged in a way it feels uncrowded. They arrive at the table. He realizes the only other furniture are the two stools.

He becomes melancholic as he imagines An Chuxia eating a meal on this table, sleeping on this table.

"I'm sorry." An Chuxia turns her head to Han Qilu. I'm sorry? Why does he suddenly feel the need to say sorry?

Translated by newbienoona

Edited and proofread by anks

TL Notes: Tang Xuanzang- Chinese Buddhist monk from the Tang Dynasty who described the interaction between Chinese and Indian Buddhism

Sun Wukong- Monkey King from the Song Dynasty; he is a main character in the 16th century Chinese cla.s.sical novel, Journey to the West)

 An Chuxia blinks. Suddenly, she understands. She stares at Han Qilu and sees his sincerity. She pats him on the shoulder and says, "Hey, I don't blame you."

"Oh," he says, looking puzzled. "What are you blaming me for?" He was referring to the excessive words spoken against An Chuxia's mother. Perhaps, he misunderstood her. He thinks An Chuxia's mother knew she was going to die and planned to save his father, then sent An Chuxia to live with them.

He was wrong from the very beginning. But what did Chuxia mean? She doesn't really blame him? Obviously, she was angry with him to slap him on the face.

How strange is this fool? Obviously, she knows she was wrong and he was wrong but it didn't require a slap? But since he requested, and she was polite, does it makes things right?

She raises her head. Her eyes narrow, thinking of the financial ramifications. "Do you know how much money you gave the landlady aunt? How many zeroes did you write on that check?" She's upset about this. She would've liked to rush and s.n.a.t.c.h the check back from the landlady. However, Han Qilu held her hand and led her away from the scene. ==

“100,000 or 1 million, I forgot.” He exhibits a very innocent appearance before asking, "Why?”

"What happened to you?!" An Chuxia plants her hands on her hips. "Do you have that much money to give her? You might as well give it to me! If you can't distinguish 100,000 and 1 million, clearly, you have too much money you can't pay attention to it!"

At this time, Han Qilu's expression was neither a smile nor a sneer, but his mouth bends; his eyes, wide open. "What do you mean?" He doesn't understand what An Chuxia meant. Does she mean he spends money too freely and he shouldn't… or she loves him for his money?

Whether it's the former or the latter, is this for his own good?

"I meant, you might as well have given it to me!" Well, now, the truth is out. An Chuxia frowns. Her brow knits tightly enough to be able to clip a fly!

Stunned momentarily, Han Qilu laughs. "Rest a.s.sured, that money is not hers to take. It's her burial fee." He didn't want Chuxia to hear this, but now, there's no reason for him to hide it. If An Chuxia wants to prevent it, he will do so.

She looks at Han Qilu blankly, then she unexpectedly grins like a fool. "Thank you."

His pupils contract, his face flashes unnaturally. This is not the first time An Chuxia had thanked him. But every time it happens, his chest is full, and each time, he gets a strange feeling. Trying to conceal his mood, he asks in a low voice, "Didn't you ask a favor from her? I think you're very good."

There is some irony in his statement. Han Qilu's words are expressing regret. Nonetheless, he doesn't want to say this each time… .

His lips move, wanting to explain, but eventually, he raises his chin. It always comes back to the truth!

“Um.”An Chuxia nods. “I do think I am very good. However, good people are forever bullied. Reality has taught me to be good, but not excessively good. I am not Tang Xuanzang. Sun Wukong isn't on my side to protect me, the G.o.ddess of Mercy doesn't exist, like G.o.d.”