Mother Zhou trembled with rage, her chest heaving, but after a moment’s thought, she forced herself to suppress her anger, softened her tone, and began playing the emotional card:
“Yaoyao, you should know in your heart how Dad has treated you all these years.”
“When he was young, he followed the troops fighting south and north, enduring countless wounds large and small. His health has only worsened over the years.”
“But you can’t take advantage of his kindness toward you…”
Mother Zhou left her words half-spoken, yet the meaning behind them was unmistakable.
It was almost as if she were pointing at Wen Mingyao’s nose and calling her “a bird that occupies the nest but doesn’t lay eggs.”
Wen Mingyao stared darkly at the telephone in front of her, instinctively wanting to retort.
But in an instant, she remembered Grandpa—the old man who had always treated her like his own granddaughter…
And she remembered that the person on the other end of the line was Zhou Zhuo’s mother. Though she didn’t care for Wen Mingyao, she had only been harsh in her words and had never been overly critical in other ways.
The words on the tip of Wen Mingyao’s tongue were swallowed back down.
Seeing her fall silent, Mother Zhou let out a soft sigh, as if speaking with heartfelt sincerity:
“I don’t expect you and A-Zhuo to be a loving couple, but this marriage was your own proposal. You should at least put some effort into it. Even if you can’t keep a man’s heart, having a child to rely on is still a good thing.”
Listening to the seemingly well-intentioned yet increasingly pressuring words, Wen Mingyao couldn’t help but find it all rather laughable.
Her mother-in-law’s words sounded pleasant enough.
But if Zhou Zhuo’s heart remained cold over the next year…
Then getting pregnant under such circumstances would be unfair to Zhou Zhuo and unfair to the child.
She couldn’t let her own child live a lifetime under the disdainful gaze of their biological father, all for her own selfish reasons.
Wen Mingyao took a light breath, a flicker of determination flashing in her eyes. Just as she was about to speak, the receiver was suddenly snatched from her hand.
She turned her head, following the slender, well-defined hand upward, and saw Zhou Zhuo.
He glanced back at her, meeting her puzzled gaze, but said nothing. Instead, he pointed to a corner, signaling for her to check on the package.
Wen Mingyao walked toward the corner, and behind her, Zhou Zhuo’s clear, cool voice rang out.
“Mom, if there’s something you want to ask, wouldn’t it be better to ask me directly?”
Hearing her eldest son’s indifferent tone, Mother Zhou couldn’t help but curse inwardly: Who was she doing all this for? And yet, her eldest son didn’t even appreciate it.
After a moment of silence, she finally mustered the patience to persuade him:
“A-Zhuo, you’re already twenty-five. Those good friends you grew up with have all become fathers in the last couple of years.”
“It’s not just your grandpa who’s anxious now—your dad and I are worried too!”
Listening to the faintly tearful voice on the other end, Zhou Zhuo remained unmoved, his tone indifferent. “You have more than one son. If you want a grandchild, tell A-Yue to get married sooner.”
As he spoke, he glanced at Wen Mingyao, who stood quietly in the corner.
She was looking down at the package by her feet, her gaze focused, seemingly unaware of the commotion on this end.
Mother Zhou felt a pang of frustration at her son’s words.
“Who do you think I’m doing all this for? Look, you don’t like Wen Mingyao anyway. Having a child early would at least give your grandpa some peace of mind. Once that’s done, whether you divorce or live apart, we won’t interfere anymore!”
Upon hearing this, Zhou Zhuo’s hand gripping the receiver tightened abruptly, his expression turning as cold as frost.
Divorce? So Wen Mingyao could get her wish? Dream on!
As for living apart… since she had come, she shouldn’t even think about leaving!
Zhou Zhuo’s tone was heavy. “If you have time, arrange a few more blind dates for A-Yue. Maybe one will work out. Also, it’s me who doesn’t want a child for now.”
With that, before Mother Zhou could say anything more, he hung up the phone directly.
“Let’s go home.”
Zhou Zhuo paid the bill, picked up a large package in each hand, his voice neither loud nor soft.
Wen Mingyao looked up at him, her gaze no longer holding the restraint or determination he had seen earlier.
Meeting her calm, autumn-water-like eyes, Zhou Zhuo felt an inexplicable surge of irritation.
He asked expressionlessly, “Why didn’t you tell my mother the truth?”
Wen Mingyao paused slightly, knowing her mother-in-law must have also urged him to have a child soon.
Then, she glanced at him, her voice faint. “Because it’s not just you who doesn’t want a child. I don’t want one either.”
Hearing this, Zhou Zhuo frowned slightly and took a step forward. As his tall frame passed Wen Mingyao, his expression suddenly darkened.
Indeed, Wen Mingyao was still single-mindedly thinking about divorcing him.
Zhou Zhuo walked unhurriedly down the street, watching the men and women walking together in pairs, a cold, low scoff escaping his thin lips:
It wasn’t that she didn’t want a child; she just didn’t want one with him.
Watching his back as he walked faster and faster, Wen Mingyao felt a wave of melancholy:
She didn’t know whether choosing Zhou Zhuo as her marriage partner back then had been right or wrong.
Although what her mother-in-law had said earlier was unpleasant, upon careful thought, it did hold some truth.
Given the current situation, she was indeed occupying the position of Zhou Zhuo’s wife and delaying him from having children.
The more she thought about it, the more her head ached.
She thought she would talk properly with Zhou Zhuo once they got home.
They walked with occasional stops along the way. After arriving home, Wen Mingyao no longer felt like opening the packages to unpack.
Seeing Zhou Zhuo put down the packages and head for the study, Wen Mingyao quickly called out, “Zhou Zhuo, do you have time now? Should we talk?”
Zhou Zhuo’s figure stiffened slightly, the fingertips at his sides unconsciously curling.
Then, his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he didn’t turn to look at her. “Talk about what?”
His tone was exceptionally flat.
Wen Mingyao walked to the table first, sat down, poured two glasses of water, and gently pushed one to the opposite side.
She knew that Zhou Zhuo not leaving meant tacit agreement.
Wen Mingyao picked up her glass, took a small sip, and the dryness in her throat finally eased somewhat.
“Do you have a girl you like?”
Her faint voice fell on Zhou Zhuo’s ears, and his entire body froze in place.
After a long while, Zhou Zhuo found his voice again. “No!”
Hearing that low voice, Wen Mingyao’s hand holding the glass trembled slightly.
Actually, upon hearing that Zhou Zhuo had no one he liked, she should have felt happy.
But then, thinking that he also had no romantic feelings for her, Wen Mingyao felt a dense, piercing pain in her chest.
Her eyes grew hot, and she quickly lowered her gaze, pretending to drink water, using the rim of the glass to hide the thin layer of moisture at the corners of her eyes.
She stiffly pulled her lips into an extremely faint curve, trying hard to keep her voice from trembling.
She wanted to say something, but after steeling herself for a long time, she couldn’t utter a single word.
Seeing her remain silent for so long, Zhou Zhuo curled his lips coldly.
This was Wen Mingyao—always able to smile brightly and radiantly in front of others.
Yet before him, she was forever acting, pretending…
Even begrudging him so much as a glance.