Chu Weiwei’s first instinct was to act like a passerby.
For some reason, she didn’t want anyone to photograph her with Cheng Youjun.
Even though Cheng Youjun was still a low-tier celebrity at the moment, if he were photographed with a woman, it would definitely make headlines.
In the end, Cheng Youjun did indeed make headlines—but only after being recognized by passersby and carried away by an ambulance, his head covered in blood in the photos.
The headlines even cheekily wrote things like—
#Shocking! Three-Character Male Star Drunk and Beaten at Restaurant#
#Three-Character Celebrity Suspected of Private Dispute, Beaten Bloody at Restaurant#
When netizens clicked in, they saw: Cheng Youjun?
Who’s that? Never heard of him. Can any obscure nobody be called a celebrity these days? Using such topics for clickbait is truly shameless!
When they were still some distance from Cloud Peak Mansion, Meng Tang started complaining of dizziness and said she couldn’t stay in the car any longer—she’d throw up if she did. She insisted on getting out.
Song Guantang had no choice but to comply. After getting out, she didn’t have the energy to walk.
After stumbling a few steps, her legs gave out, and she plopped down right on the side of the road.
Unable to sit steadily, she even hugged a nearby utility pole.
She even started chatting with the pole on her own.
“Hey buddy, why are you so stiff? You’re not comfortable to hug at all.”
Meng Tang even made a comparison, “Song Guanting in my dreams is much more comfortable to hug.”
Such a comical scene made passersby turn their heads to look.
Song Guanting rubbed his temples in frustration, even letting out an exasperated laugh.
The lofty CEO Song, in his twenty-eight years of life, had never been so embarrassed.
“Meng Tang, get up. I’ll carry you.”
If this continued, it would only become more widely known.
Meng Tang lifted her face, her flushed oval cheeks and misty almond eyes gazing at him pleadingly.
Like a kitten abandoned by the roadside, hoping some passerby would take pity and take her in.
Just as Song Guanting bent down to pick her up, Meng Tang suddenly changed her expression and slapped the back of his hand with a smack.
“No carrying. I want a piggyback ride.”
She pouted like a child, “No piggyback, no walking!”
As she spoke, she even patted the utility pole beside her with camaraderie, “Good buddy, I’ll sleep with you tonight!”
Song Guanting sighed in resignation.
He knelt on one knee, crouching down, and turned his back to her.
“Get on.”
Meng Tang lunged onto his back, nearly knocking him over with the momentum—a truly embarrassing moment for the couple.
Song Guanting steadied himself, firmly hoisting her onto his back.
On his back, Meng Tang clenched her fist into a pretend “sandbag” and made a charging gesture.
“Charge! I, the beautiful warrior Tang, will save the world today! In the name of the moon, I’ll eliminate you—beep!”
Not only did she direct and act out the scene, she even added sound effects—fitting for her profession as a director.
The driver followed slowly alongside in the car, cautiously asking, “Mr. Song, Cloud Peak Mansion is still quite far. If we keep walking like this, it’ll be dark before we arrive. Why don’t you and Mrs. Song get back in the car?”
After all, Mrs. Song was drunk. If they forced her into the car, she’d just close her eyes and be home in no time.
Otherwise, if they kept walking like this, Meng Tang might be fine, but Song Guanting was carrying someone. By the time they reached Cloud Peak Mansion, his feet would probably be worn out.To make matters worse, Meng Tang on his back refused to settle down, kicking her legs restlessly.
“Overtake him! A Sailor Moon warrior cannot be surpassed by anyone. I must be number one!”
Song Guantang gave her a disciplinary pat on the bottom, threatening, “Keep moving around, and I’ll throw you into the river to swim home by yourself.”
But who would have thought that in Meng Tang’s ears, only one keyword remained.
“Swim? Swimming? I want to swim! I can do breaststroke, butterfly, and freestyle! I’m super strong—I’m going to win an Olympic gold medal for our country!”
Song Guantang: “…”
If he had committed any sin, let work be his punishment.
As she spoke, Meng Tang began making a fist with her hand, holding it to her mouth like a microphone, and started singing at the top of her lungs.
“Singing of our dear motherland, marching toward prosperity and strength~”
“Loving you walking alone in dark alleys, loving your unyielding stance, loving how you faced despair without shedding a tear~”
From patriotic songs to pop hits, she sang them all, with an impressive range.
At one point, she even extended her fist-as-microphone toward Song Guantang’s mouth.
“Loving your tattered clothes, yet daring to block fate’s gun, loving how much you resemble me, with the same flaws~”
Then she stopped, clearly waiting for Song Guantang to sing the next line.
But Song Guantang, an old-fashioned workaholic, had never heard such pop songs.
Even if he had, he would never sing along.
Soon, his silence earned Meng Tang’s disdain.
“You don’t know how to sing? How dumb!”
Just as she finished speaking, a passing child loudly responded, “Shall we go? Are we worthy? In these tattered cloaks~”
Instantly, Meng Tang seemed to have found her tribe and engaged in a “love song duet” with the kid.
“Shall we fight? Fight on! With the humblest of dreams~”
The most terrifying part was that after one child joined in, others followed.
Thus, the entire street echoed with the haunting chorus of “Shall we fight? Fight on!” from the kids and Meng Tang.
Song Guantang swore he had never felt so publicly humiliated in his life.
A vein throbbed on his forehead.
After silently reminding himself several times that this was his wife, he resisted the urge to drop her on the road and let her continue battling with the still-enthusiastic kids.
By the time the sky had completely darkened, Song Guantang finally carried her to Cloud Peak Mansion.
The butler saw Song Guantang, drenched in sweat yet still maintaining his composure, and Meng Tang, who had finally fallen asleep on his back after causing chaos the entire way.
“Sir, what happened to Madam?”
Song Guantang let out a rare, weary sigh. “Prepare some sobering tea and bring it to the bedroom in half an hour.”
Meng Tang, fast asleep, rested her flushed cheek against Song Guantang’s back, as docile as a kitten that had retracted all its sharp claws.
She was perfectly well-behaved, with no trace of aggression.
Song Guantang carried Meng Tang directly to the bedroom. He knew his young wife was particular about cleanliness—she would never get into bed without bathing first.
With one hand, he filled the bathtub with water, then undressed her and gently placed her inside.
Only then did Song Guantang let out a slight sigh of relief, stretching his sore and stiff back.
Looking at his young wife lying in the bathtub, enveloped in steam, her face flushed from the warmth, he thought to himself:
She certainly seemed comfortable.
With a hint of retaliation, Song Guantang pressed his fingertip against the corner of her eye.”Meng Tang, you’d better remember everything that happened today when you wake up.”
Song Guantang was drenched in sweat, his entire body sticky and uncomfortable.
Just as he was about to get up and take off his clothes, a jade-like hand suddenly grabbed his tie.
Pulling him down, it forced him to sit back abruptly, caught off guard halfway through rising.
“Song Guantang, don’t… don’t change…”
Meng Tang held the tie, murmuring softly as if unaware.
Song Guanting saw her brows tightly furrowed, as if trapped in some nightmare.
He leaned in closer, his breath drawing near.
“Don’t what?”