Ye Cheng Goes Fishing—Only the Willing Take the Bait; Mrs. Ye Is Jealous of the Young Lady

"Miss, I think you just bit my finger, but it's fine, I won’t get mad. Come on, let’s keep going..."

"Miss, you’re a patient right now, you can’t just get up. Be good and lie back down..."

"Uh, Miss, why are you crawling toward me from the bed? No thanks—"

"Miss, why are you holding a radish for no reason?"

"No, stop! Yameru!!!"

"Thud!"

That’s how things played out. I tried to get ahead of her and tease her a little, only to be righteously punished by the young miss. Excuses?

Keep making excuses, keep making excuses, keep making excuses...

"Thud, thud, thud!!!"

The young miss didn’t say a word, but the increasing speed of the radish in her hand slamming down was proof enough of the raging fury in her heart. Ye Cheng wasn’t just beaten into a meme at this point—if this kept up, he’d probably meet his ancestors soon.

Finally, the young miss stomped on the idiot’s head a couple of times to vent her anger, then picked up the phone Ye Cheng had been using to take staged photos to check the results. As for Ye Cheng? He was left half-dead on the floor.

Click.

A faint sound of the door opening came from the young miss’s room. The door cracked open slightly, revealing a certain sneaky, utterly suspicious lady lurking in the hallway, peeking inside with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Can you blame her? Who knew the commotion inside would be… so intriguing? She’d only meant to eavesdrop, but now she just had to take a peek. It was an accident, really—the door opened on its own, it had nothing to do with her.

After a quick round of self-hypnosis and mental gymnastics, Du Wanyi ultimately couldn’t resist her sinful hands and pushed the door open fully.

Just one look. Just one tiny glance, and she’d close it right after. Round it off, and it’s like she never saw anything. And if she never saw anything, then what’s the harm in one more look? And another… and another…

Wait—

Xiao Chengcheng, why are you on the floor again?!

Du Wanyi’s sneaky gaze swept across the room, searching for some "forbidden" scenes, but instead of finding the two tangled up in a fight, she only saw poor Ye Cheng knocked out once more.

And judging by Ye Cheng’s current state—foaming at the mouth, eyes turned into X’s, tongue lolling out—it was clear the young miss had gone all out this time, hitting harder than before.

Ah, my poor Xiao Chengcheng, beaten into a meme again.

"Wait… what if it wasn’t just a beating, but the other kind of beating?" Suddenly, Du Wanyi had a stroke of genius, her expression instantly turning mischievous.

She raised an eyebrow, looking even more suspicious than before.

Earlier, after being knocked out herself, she’d been left lying on the cold floor. That heartless little Hanhan couldn’t even spare a blanket or pillow for her own dear, sweet, generous, beautiful… mother.

The floor was so cold! What if she caught a cold? No conscience at all, tsk!

Finally, after relentless effort, Du Wanyi spotted the young miss sitting on the edge of the bed, head bowed as she scrolled through something on her phone.

But that wasn’t the important part. The important part was the unmistakable, unnatural flush on Shen Han’s face—like she’d just been… well, you know.

Du Wanyi’s pupils shrank. She looked at the young miss, then at Ye Cheng lying half-dead on the floor, and suddenly, it all made sense!

"Gasp… Isn’t this a bit too soon?"

She muttered to herself, doing the math. If her little Hanhan got pregnant now, just like she had back then, then in a year, there’d be an adorable little baby. And that would make her… a grandmother!

Not even forty yet, still in her prime, and already a grandma? Plus, she’d have a "mini-Hanhan" to play with—ahem, to raise. How perfect would that be?

That bratty personality of Hanhan’s was beyond fixing now. The only solution was to start over. But having another kid herself would be too much trouble, and Hanhan might throw a fit. So… better let Hanhan handle it herself. Mama just wants to have fun!

Truth be told, even if she had the chance, Du Wanyi wouldn’t have another child. The moment she laid eyes on her little Hanhan, she’d decided—this was her one and only baby.

Sure, Hanhan was a little rebellious sometimes, but so what? She’s Hanhan! I love her to bits!

By now, Du Wanyi had fully brainwashed herself, turning into a fool whose mind was completely empty except for "Hanhan, Hanhan, Hanhan" x100. She wriggled around, spun in circles, took a deep breath—

Meanwhile, the young miss finished scrolling through the photos Ye Cheng had taken. Her already slightly flushed face was now beet red, her ears burning hot.

They were just photos of her being sick, and Ye Cheng’s photography skills were professional enough to make them look convincingly real. But… why did they feel so indecent?

The thought of "indecent" immediately brought to mind that idiot’s hand earlier—

The young miss took a deep breath, her eyes turning icy. Silently, she set Ye Cheng’s phone aside and picked up the giant radish again, marching toward him.

Just as she was about to bring it down, she noticed the slightly ajar door—and the sneaky lady crouched outside, peeking in.

Though, the married woman seemed lost in her own world now, drooling and giggling to herself, muttering things like "my little mini-Hanhan, mwah~"

Completely oblivious to the impending doom.

Until the light from the room was suddenly blocked—no, not by the young miss herself, but by the enormous radish in her hand.

A cinematic moment.

Belatedly, Du Wanyi looked up, her face a picture of despair, tears welling up as she stared at the looming radish-shaped shadow.

"Nooo, Director! I have a child at home, my husband would never—" She launched into a dramatic recital of classic J-drama lines, fully immersed in her own performance, lost in the art.

"THUD!"

Du Wanyi—OUT!!!

The young miss narrowed her eyes and mercilessly slammed the giant radish down on the naturally wicked obaa-san who’d just cried, "Director, no!"

One idiot in the room was bad enough, but now there were two. Perfect—the young miss scored a double kill.

Splat!

This time, Du Wanyi got her wish—the young miss stomped on her hard.

The victory screen was almost identical to Ye Cheng's, with the only difference being that Ye Cheng had feasted on far more of the young mistress's delicate feet than Du Wanyi had.

...

That night, when Ye Cheng woke up again, he realized he seemed to have been moved to yet another place. And... someone was pinching his lips. Could it be... the young mistress?!

"Little Cheng-Cheng, if you're awake, hurry up and grab some chopsticks. We're about to eat—quack quack, hehehe, little ducky." The cheerful voice of a certain unreliable Du Wanyi sounded from beside him.

Ye Cheng: "..."

Once again, his hopes were dashed. The person pinching his lips wasn't the young mistress but that untrustworthy Du Wanyi, who often "stabbed her friends in the back" while wearing a face full of "loyalty."

Right now, Du Wanyi was squatting in front of Ye Cheng, blinking her big eyes with amusement as she pinched his lips like they were playdough. Imagining his mouth as a little duck, she even let out a few quacks.

Truly, a child at heart!

Or, perhaps, a demon child unleashed.

It was dinnertime, so Ye Cheng dashed to the kitchen to grab a pair of chopsticks before joining the table.

Honestly, there wasn’t anything particularly unusual about the meal—except for the enormous table, the extravagant spread, and the fact that many of the ingredients were so rare that Ye Cheng had to Google them mid-bite.

And yes, that’s exactly what he did. Before eating, he snapped a photo to post on his social media with the caption: "Not feeling well lately, so the doc said to keep it light... sigh, guess I’ll suffer through this." Below it was the ridiculously lavish Shen family dinner.

Classic fishing for reactions!

The bait had been cast—now he just had to wait for the fish to bite. Soon, he’d have fresh material for trash talk. Ah, another beautiful day!

Du Wanyi, sitting beside Ye Cheng, leaned her head against his shoulder and blinked curiously. "Little Cheng-Cheng, what are you posting?"

"Oh, just fishing," Ye Cheng replied with a straight face.

"Fishing?" A giant question mark seemed to float above Du Wanyi’s head as her confusion deepened. Then, as if struck by inspiration, her eyes sparkled.

"I wanna fish too! Little Cheng-Cheng, teach me, please? Pretty please? Uwu..." She clung to him, shaking him back and forth like an eager fangirl.

"Ah, no need to be so formal! Here, Du-jie, hand me your phone—I’ll show you the ropes!" Ye Cheng didn’t hold back, ready to impart his wisdom.

"Mhm, here you go, Little Cheng-Cheng. The passcode’s my birthday—I’ll tell you secretly..." Du Wanyi lowered her voice conspiratorially, as if sharing classified intel.

At the table, there were only four people—excluding the maids serving dishes—just the young mistress’s family and Ye Cheng.

While Ye Cheng and Du Wanyi were getting along like a house on fire, acting like long-lost siblings despite having just met, the atmosphere on the young mistress’s side was noticeably chillier.

Especially when the doting father, Shen Ming, saw his wife practically draped over another man. Though he knew his wife’s personality well, he couldn’t help but feel a faint green hue creeping over his head.

Ah, whatever. Just eat.

"Here, Hanhan—this is sea cucumber flown in fresh from the coast today. It’s delicious..." Shen Ming smiled, passing the dish to his daughter.

The young mistress didn’t even glance at her father’s offering. Instead, her narrowed eyes were fixed on the "intimate" duo across the table.

Originally, she had been seated next to Ye Cheng, but Du Wanyi had insisted on switching places—otherwise, she’d squeeze in between them. Clenching her fists, the young mistress had reluctantly agreed.

Now, she was regretting it.

"So, is this how it’s done, Little Cheng-Cheng?"

"Yep! Now we just wait for the fish to bite!"

"Wow, this is so fun! You’re so smart, Little Cheng-Cheng—mwah!"

BANG!

Du Wanyi puckered her lips, leaning in as if to plant a kiss on Ye Cheng’s cheek as a reward—but before she could, the young mistress slammed her palm on the table.

Shen Qinghan glared at the older woman with icy calm. "Eat."

"Eat, then! Why so loud, Little Hanhan? You’re not jealous, are you? No way, no way, no—"

Du Wanyi’s voice trailed off as she realized... her dear Hanhan was genuinely upset. The young mistress had picked up a knife, which just so happened to be pointing directly at the "naturally wicked" older woman.

Gulp.

Du Wanyi swallowed hard. "Little Hanhan... why is your knife pointed at Mama...?"

"Must be a coincidence," Shen Qinghan replied flatly, her tone glacial.

Du Wanyi: "..."