How Can a Construction Foreman Be the Public Girlfriend of a Top Celebrity? - Chapter 4
Chapter 4: Wife, Work, and a Wolfdog’s Charm
Zheng Ling paused when she received the message. She typed out several lines, then deleted them.
Maybe Shu Xuan didn’t need sympathy or comfort.
Zheng Ling pretended not to see it and naturally changed the subject.
ZAAA Little Zheng Engineering:
What kind of wedding do you want?
Oh right, what’s your ring size? And the wedding dress?
My family’s from Jiangcheng—you’re from there too, right? Should we follow our local customs?
Should I deliver the betrothal gifts to your house?
Shu Xuan looked at the barrage of questions. She hadn’t expected Zheng Ling to take it so seriously.
X:
Too many questions. Let’s talk in person.
ZAAA Little Zheng Engineering:
Alrighty then~ When and where shall we meet?
X:
Dragon Boat Festival. Jiangcheng Middle School.
Zheng Ling continued to ramble on in chat until she was finally satisfied enough to go to sleep.
The Next Day.
There was a heavy downpour in Nancheng. Zheng Ling drove her pickup truck to the construction site. The reservoir project was nearing its final stage, and it would be inspected by the relevant departments after the Dragon Boat Festival. She could finally take a break after that.
As soon as she arrived, the workers gathered around her.
“Ling-jie, how’s your wedding going? When are we getting that wedding banquet?” one of the younger foremen asked.
Zheng Ling wore a blue T-shirt, the collar slightly frayed. Holding her water cup, she brewed some black tea. “It’s going well. Haven’t finalized the wedding yet, but don’t worry, your drinks are guaranteed.”
“Sounds good.” The crowd chuckled.
“Oh right, Ling-jie, last night we caught a few kids trying to steal rebar from the site,” another foreman said, wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.
“Stealing rebar?” Zheng Ling had heard about people doing that for resale, but had never encountered it herself.
“Yeah, from a village near town. We were going to take them to the police, but their parents locked them up at home,” the foreman grumbled, his cigarette-stained teeth dark and grimy.
“They still haven’t handed over the rebar. That stuff needs to be sent back to the factory for processing.”
Zheng Ling frowned, tucked her hair under her helmet, picked up a shovel, and led a group of workers to the village. “Lead the way. Let’s do a raid.”
Construction materials are tightly accounted for—cement, stones, rebar, metal plates—all must be used or disposed of systematically. Scraps are often sent back for processing. That’s why she and the foreman were so serious.
The road was muddy, but Zheng Ling walked with ease. The burly workers behind her carried sticks and shovels, drawing curious stares from passersby.
This was a minority village, picturesque with winding mountain paths cloaked in white mist—buildings looked like they sprouted from the clouds.
At the boy’s house, a rammed-earth building freshly painted with lingering chemical smells, the foreman knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman with a headscarf, likely in her fifties or sixties—probably the boy’s grandmother.
“Who… who are you?” she asked nervously, clutching the door.
“Get your son out here! Where’s the rebar he stole?” The foreman was fierce, making the woman shrink back.
Zheng Ling realized she wasn’t a grandmother, but the boy’s mother—just looked older than expected.
The woman called into the house, and a twelve- or thirteen-year-old boy stepped out.
He protectively stood in front of his mother. “If you want to hit someone, hit me! Don’t touch my mom.”
Zheng Ling stepped forward, shovel in hand.
“Brat hasn’t even grown all your hair yet, and you think you’re someone’s dad?” She flung the shovel at the wall, instantly leaving a dent.
The boy flinched in fear. His mother looked like she might burst into tears.
“Hand over the rebar and we can talk. Otherwise, I’ll beat you till even your dad doesn’t recognize you.” Zheng Ling’s lazy tone didn’t match her intimidating demeanor.
A crowd had gathered to watch—some fair-skinned faces stood out among the villagers. They were clearly outsiders.
Shu Xuan was among them. Today was her wrap-up scene, but the chaos had disrupted the shoot, so they had to pause.
Assistant Xiao Ying handed Shu Xuan a bottle of water and sneered, “Xuan-jie, that woman has no manners.”
Shu Xuan took a sip, saying nothing.
“She’s scaring a kid, after all,” Xiao Ying grumbled. She’d already disliked that construction foreman yesterday. And after finding out that Shu Xuan had married her, she resented her even more. Since when could anyone marry a celebrity?
Xiao Ying’s cheeks puffed like a pufferfish. She really felt this marriage was beneath Shu Xuan.
Meanwhile, Zheng Ling had pinned the boy against the wall and was lightly slapping his cheek with the back of her hand.
“Want to make money?” she asked coldly.
The boy held his head high and replied defiantly, “Yeah.”
“What for?” She still hadn’t let go, looking every bit the neighborhood bully.
“To treat my mom’s illness. And for school.” His hands were scarred with frostbite from the winter—still faintly purple.
“You know how much this rebar is worth?”
He shook his head. His mother kept bowing, apologizing non-stop.
The foreman came out with the recovered rebar. “Ling-jie, this stuff’s worth about five grand. That’s enough for a police case.”
Zheng Ling’s eyes flickered. She let go of the boy and grabbed a stick from one of the workers.
“Hold out your hands,” she said.
As she raised the stick and struck, she asked, “Still planning to steal?”
The boy stared defiantly, not making a sound.
“Now that he’s been taught a lesson, we won’t call the cops,” she said—mostly to the workers behind her.
The boy’s mother rushed over to check his hands—red but not injured.
“If you really want to earn money, come work during Dragon Boat Festival. Pick up scrap rebar and guard the site. After the holiday, we’ll send the scrap for recycling,” Zheng Ling tossed the stick aside and clapped the dust off her hands.
The boy blinked, stunned.
“What? Don’t want to?”
“C-Can I?” His eyes were red with disbelief.
“Whatever amount you save me in scrap, I’ll pay you that much.” Zheng Ling still looked cocky and casual.
The boy burst into tears, dropped to his knees, and kowtowed twice. “Thank you, Ling-jie!”
“You were just trying to punch me, remember?” Zheng Ling teased. She glanced at the mother, pulled a few hundred yuan from her pocket. “Move that stolen rebar back to the site. Since it’s stolen, I’m deducting the value. This cash is for hauling fees.”
Only now did the crowd realize what was really going on. Villagers murmured among themselves, clearly impressed by this woman from the reservoir.
The mother was overwhelmed with gratitude and refused to take the money.
Xiao Ying, watching from afar, softened a bit. “Xuan-jie… maybe she’s not that bad?”
“You didn’t say that earlier,” Shu Xuan replied blankly.
“I just mean she has some conscience. Just a tiny bit!” Xiao Ying pinched her fingers together.
After everything was settled, Zheng Ling and the workers returned to the construction site.
She kicked back in her office playing Honor of Kings when the foreman rushed in.
“Ling-jie, someone’s here to see you.”
“Who? Why not bring them to my office?” she asked, eyes still on her phone.
“Dunno them. Doesn’t look like construction folk, so I left them outside.”
“Alright.” Zheng Ling kept tapping away while walking, harvesting mushrooms in-game.
She looked up as she stepped outside—and saw Shu Xuan.
Zheng Ling instantly turned off her phone and strode over.
“What brings you here?”
Shu Xuan was bundled up just like yesterday, her sharp fox eyes peeking through.
Xiao Ying explained, “Our car broke down again. We were hoping you could give us a ride.”
Though she still disliked this contractor, her tone remained polite.
“Oh? Really?” Zheng Ling smirked. “Not just looking for an excuse to flirt with me?”
Shu Xuan was speechless. “If it’s too much trouble, we’ll figure something else out.”
“No trouble at all. Give me five minutes.” Zheng Ling waved her hands.
Xiao Ying muttered as she watched her leave, “Suck-up.”
Zheng Ling returned freshly dressed, hair neatly combed, car keys in hand.
“At your service,” she beamed as she walked over to Shu Xuan.
She opened the front door of her pickup for Shu Xuan. “After you.”
Then she turned to Xiao Ying. “You coming too?”
“Yup.” Xiao Ying nodded.
“Thing is, my ‘suck-up’ attitude only fits my wife. And who are you again?” Zheng Ling leaned in and fastened Shu Xuan’s seatbelt.
Xiao Ying suddenly felt like she was witnessing a thirsty wolf dog trying to woo its mate—with background noise like mating calls in a zoo.
Under her mask, Shu Xuan gave a faint smile and calmly said, “We have things to do. Let’s get moving, Boss Zheng.”
The pickup was clean and modified for comfort—new audio, AC, and leather seats.
No one spoke for a bit.
Zheng Ling broke the silence. “Music?”
“Sure,” Shu Xuan replied.
Zheng Ling played a rock track, the female vocals piercingly high.
“When are you heading back to Jiangcheng?” she asked.
“The day after tomorrow,” Xiao Ying answered for Shu Xuan, then added, “Can you change the song? That singer is from a rival label.”
Zheng Ling switched it. “You heading back with us?”
Xiao Ying was about to decline when Shu Xuan spoke first. “Sure.”
“Great. I’ll book the tickets,” Zheng Ling said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat.
“You’ll book them? Our Shu-laoshi only flies first class, with a private car pickup. Can you even manage that?” Xiao Ying huffed.
Zheng Ling glanced in the mirror, seeing how protective Xiao Ying was of Shu Xuan, and laughed. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one. Why?”
“You’ll get it once you’re married. You think I’d treat my wife badly? Need you to tell me?”
Zheng Ling said it with a warm smile.
She knew Xiao Ying was just looking out for Shu Xuan. In most people’s eyes, a marriage like this would raise eyebrows—and that was completely understandable.