But Wen Tingyan said nothing, simply returning the phone to Jian Zhi before lowering his head to eat.
Though the dishes weren’t to his usual taste, he finished three bowls of rice.
Even Grandma found it strange. “Tingyan, how long has it been since you last ate?”
Jian Zhi glanced at him, suspecting he’d been too worried to eat since last night. After all, when one’s beloved falls ill, going without food for a full day makes any meal taste delicious.
Yet Wen Tingyan replied, “Grandma, your cooking is just too delicious.”
Hearing this, Grandma smiled. “You’re all so busy. Otherwise, come visit when you have time, and I’ll cook for you.”
“Grandma,” Wen Tingyan held his bowl, still savoring the meal, “some homeowners in our complex are selling their properties. How about we buy you an apartment there?”
Grandma immediately waved her hand with a laugh. “No need. I’m quite content living here surrounded by familiar neighbors. It’s convenient growing fruits and vegetables in the countryside—I can mail them to you later.”
This wasn’t the first time Wen Tingyan had suggested this idea. Back when Grandma had her fall, he’d proposed buying her a unit in his complex, but she’d refused then too, saying she was accustomed to country life.
Privately, Grandma had told Jian Zhi that just because she’d married Wen Tingyan didn’t mean she should make endless demands. His wealth was hard-earned, not blown in by the wind.
“Alright.” Wen Tingyan finished the last of his soup and sighed contentedly. “Even more flavorful than Aunt Chen’s broth. Do you have some special secret, Grandma?”
“Silly child.” Grandma chuckled at his remark.
Jian Zhi reflected that Grandma was probably the only person in the world who dared call Wen Tingyan “silly”—and he didn’t mind at all.
If there was anyone in this marriage who served as her support, it was Grandma alone.
Grandma genuinely cared for Wen Tingyan.
Not because she particularly favored him, but because she believed in reciprocity—by treating him well, she hoped he would treat her precious granddaughter with equal kindness.
After the meal, as Grandma began clearing the dishes, Jiang Shifan stood to help. Surprisingly, Wen Tingyan also vied to clean up, ultimately winning the contest by grabbing the bowls and rushing to the kitchen to commandeer the sink, repeating his usual line: “I’m not a guest!”
Grandma seemed somewhat embarrassed.
Jian Zhi stopped her. “It’s fine, let him do it.”
At this point, she might as well go all out. If he wanted to wash dishes or mop floors, squeezing every last bit of usefulness from him was fine by her. She even felt tempted to agree to buying Grandma an apartment! Grandma wasn’t like her insatiable parents—she deserved it!
Seeing Grandma’s helpless expression, Jian Zhi kept these thoughts to herself, merely comforting her: “Grandma, it’s really okay. He’s not some pampered young master—he can do anything.”
This was the truth.
Though he came from a wealthy family, his parents had never spoiled him. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have attended the same public high school.
Back then, all students boarded at school, him included—no luxury cars picking him up, no nannies doing his laundry. He handled everything himself.
No wonder he’d been so eager to start his own business.
After finishing the dishes, Wen Tingyan prepared to take her home. Before leaving, he went out to the car and returned with an armload of expensive gifts, then left behind a thick stack of cash.
At a glance, it was at least a hundred thousand—claimed to be pocket money for Grandma.
It gave Grandma quite a shock.
Jian Zhi knew exactly what he was doing—showing off his wealth in front of Jiang Shifan.
Grandma refused to accept it, but Wen Tingyan directly placed it in her drawer, saying, “It’s a token of respect from Jian Zhi and me.” After speaking, his gaze shifted to Jiang Shifan.
Then, he wrapped his arm around Jian Zhi’s waist, picked up her bag, and said, “Grandma, Jian Zhi and I will head back now. We’ll visit you again another day.”
Jiang Shifan, who was stationed in the village for the day, waved with a smile, “Goodbye, senior. I’ll contact you when I return to the city.”
Hearing this, Wen Tingyan tightened his grip around Jian Zhi’s waist.
Once they left the house, he quickened his pace. Jian Zhi couldn’t keep up and felt as if she were being dragged along forcibly.
When they reached his parked car, he opened the door, shoved her inside, then swiftly returned to the driver’s seat, locking the doors. His expression darkened almost instantly.
“Jian Zhi, you’re something else,” he said, his voice laced with threat and suppressed anger.
Jian Zhi’s mind flashed to the lipstick marks on his neck and shirt. She sneered, “Not as impressive as you.”
“Who exactly is he? I don’t want to waste time investigating it myself,” he said, his hands resting on the steering wheel. His fingers were slender, and on the ring finger of his left hand was a ring.
His wedding ring—he had taken it off the night after their wedding ceremony. So what was this ring he was wearing now?
She smiled faintly and extended her own hand.
On her ring finger was a jade ring, modest in size, suitable for everyday wear.
This was the wedding ring she had chosen. The reason she hadn’t opted for a pigeon-egg diamond or a large jade ring was that she wanted to wear it constantly. A smaller one was more practical for daily use, and it was part of a matching pair—his ring was also jade.
It took considerable effort for her to remove her ring. After five years of never taking it off, it had become too tight.
Wen Tingyan watched her movements and instinctively withdrew his left hand.
She placed the ring on the dashboard, her smile still faint. “Mr. Wen, perhaps you’d like to explain when your ring changed color?”