My Wife Always Wants to Run Away - Chapter 34

It took Tang Jinzhi nearly an hour to finally get Yu Feishuang, the notoriously short-tempered director, to discuss work.

She understood why. The director clearly resented people arbitrarily inserting newcomers into her crew. Perhaps it was her trust in Lin Ai, believing she wouldn’t recommend just anyone, that led her to accept Tang Jinzhi’s friend request.

Tang Jinzhi spent over ten minutes explaining the misunderstanding. Half of that time was spent waiting for a reply. The director was likely busy, and Tang Jinzhi felt guilty for wasting her time, thinking she deserved the scolding.

Despite her impatience, Yu Feishuang didn’t berate Tang Jinzhi for wasting her time once she understood her purpose. During a break, she opened the document Tang Jinzhi had sent.

Tang Jinzhi waited anxiously for an hour without a response. Her anxiety grew. The condensed material shouldn’t have taken that long to review; a quick read should have taken only twenty to thirty minutes.

Just as she was about to give up hope of hearing back, Yu Feishuang called her directly.

Tang Jinzhi stepped onto the balcony to answer the call. Before long, a smile spread across her face. Yu Feishuang, who had always been notoriously short-tempered with her, was now remarkably polite, her voice sounding particularly calm and reliable. She even offered a subtle apology. Tang Jinzhi knew immediately: Yu Feishuang had finished reading and was satisfied.

They talked for a long time. By the time Jie Xiangyi returned from work, Tang Jinzhi was still on the balcony, curled up in a lounge chair with the tablet she had given Zhang Yueqi earlier. She flipped through the pages as she spoke.

It truly was like crossing a mountain to understand another profession. Some issues Zhang Yueqi couldn’t spot were immediately apparent to Yu Feishuang, who approached the material from a director’s perspective.

Tang Jinzhi was delighted. Although she had initially sent Yu Feishuang a different modern novel, Yu Feishuang had promised to read both of Tang Jinzhi’s ongoing serializations and provide feedback afterward.

Without her fiery temper, Yu Feishuang was surprisingly easy to work with. Moreover, during their voice calls, she focused solely on work, never straying into personal topics. Tang Jinzhi greatly appreciated this efficiency.

When Jie Xiangyi returned, Tang Jinzhi only glanced at her briefly, nodded, and continued her conversation with Yu Feishuang.

Tang Jinzhi spent most of her time researching on her own, as Yu Feishuang was genuinely busy and only called when she had a moment to rest.

It was clear the director disliked communicating through text, finding written replies too tedious.

Tang Jinzhi divided her attention between Yu Feishuang and Jie Xiangyi. She was surprised Jie Xiangyi had gotten off work early today, but a glance at the clock revealed it was already nearly 8 PM—time had flown by.

Hearing the chaotic sounds of work on the other end of the line, she paused, then said, “Director Yu, are you still busy with work? Let’s talk tomorrow. My wife just got home.”

In truth, they had already covered most of the key points. Yu Feishuang usually grilled Tang Jinzhi, worried about any unacceptable plot twists in the later chapters, occasionally praising her with remarks like, “You’re one of the few normal people I’ve ever met.”

After hearing this praise repeatedly, Tang Jinzhi began to doubt her own sanity.

It wasn’t until she heard the director’s examples of bizarre plotlines she’d encountered that Tang Jinzhi fully accepted the label of “one of the few normal people.” She couldn’t help but imagine what Director Yu had endured in the past, her mental state sounding genuinely concerning.

Yu Feishuang was slightly surprised to hear that Tang Jinzhi had a wife. She chuckled, “When Lin Ai recommended you to me, she said you were only 24 and had just graduated. I didn’t realize you were already married. Congratulations!”

Tang Jinzhi hadn’t expected Yu Feishuang to know her age. Lin Ai, who thought she was going to act, had likely given a brief introduction.

She murmured softly, “Thank you.”

Seizing the opportunity while the call was still connected, Yu Feishuang continued, “Why don’t we set up a time to discuss this in person? If possible, I’d love for you to be the screenwriter. I’ve hardly met any normal screenwriters—they all turn my scripts into stories where characters die without romance or can’t do anything without batting their eyelashes. You’re truly a normal person.”

Tang Jinzhi hadn’t considered this before. After a moment’s hesitation, she replied, “I can’t accept others drastically altering my novels, but I’ll need to think about it.”

Initially, she had only wanted to sell the publishing rights and have her novel adapted into a TV series. But after hearing Yu Feishuang repeatedly call her “normal,” she began to worry about her novel being ruined.

In the living room, Zhang Yueqi lay sprawled on the sofa, still engrossed in reading Tang Jinzhi’s novel on his phone. He reluctantly looked up only after Jie Xiangyi kicked him as she passed by.

“What are you doing?”

Jie Xiangyi frowned slightly. “What are you all doing?”

No one had even acknowledged her arrival home.

Zhang Yueqi sat up, still clutching his phone, and lazily replied, “Reading a novel. Written by Tang Jinzhi.”

He then began to gloat, his eyes sparkling with pride as he showed off to Jie Xiangyi, his expression animated. “She’s still serializing it, but I’ve read the whole thing! I spent the entire afternoon digging through Tang Jinzhi’s draft box. Having the full manuscript is amazing!”

Jie Xiangyi raised an eyebrow, amused. “Only she would indulge you like this. You’re spoiled.”

Zhang Yueqi huffed indignantly. “Do you think I’m someone who doesn’t know what’s important? She’s still serializing it! Why would I post spoilers online? That would ruin it for everyone!”

“I’m just reminding you. Just keep it to yourself.”

Tang Jinzhi had never mentioned her novel to Jie Xiangyi, so she didn’t even know her pen name.

Zhang Yueqi clutched his phone protectively behind his back, his face wary as he guarded it from Jie Xiangyi. “What do you want? Tang Jinzhi trusted me enough to let me read it. Don’t even think about deleting it.”

Jie Xiangyi was speechless.

“I just want to take a look. I haven’t read it yet.”

Zhang Yueqi grew even more wary. “Who are you trying to fool? She’s already serializing it. You can’t just look it up on a novel platform?”

Jie Xiangyi’s expression stiffened, her voice catching in her throat. “I don’t know which platform she’s serializing it on.”

She added softly, “I don’t even know her pen name.”

Her voice was barely audible.

Zhang Yueqi fell silent, noticing that Jie Xiangyi seemed genuinely wronged. After all the time they’d spent working together in the study, Jie Xiangyi still knew nothing about Tang Jinzhi’s writing.

Tang Jinzhi had even asked Jie Xiangyi for feedback on her novel that afternoon. Zhang Yueqi had assumed Tang Jinzhi had already shown it to Jie Xiangyi, which was why she’d been so guarded earlier. It turned out to be a misunderstanding—Jie Xiangyi really hadn’t read it.

The more Zhang Yueqi looked at Jie Xiangyi, the more she resembled a pitiful, unloved wife. Her expression was so utterly crestfallen.

Zhang Yueqi silently handed over her phone. “…Here, take a look.”

Jie Xiangyi pushed it back, her voice dejected. “No, it’s fine. If she doesn’t want me to know, then I’ll respect that.”

Zhang Yueqi: “……”

Though she rarely saw Jie Xiangyi like this, Zhang Yueqi couldn’t shake the feeling that she was putting on an act.

This is so awkward to watch.

“Xiangyi, have you even talked to Tang Jinzhi? How can you say she doesn’t want you to know?”

Jie Xiangyi concealed the amusement in her eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

Zhang Yueqi rolled her eyes. “Then how dare you blame her? You haven’t even tried to talk to her yourself.”

Jie Xiangyi chuckled, her voice finally returning to its usual composure. “I was just teasing you.”

She held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

Zhang Yueqi shoved the phone into Jie Xiangyi’s hand, then couldn’t resist giving her another glance. She secretly confirmed her suspicions: Jie Xiangyi had changed. She was finally less dull, more alive.

Jie Xiangyi only glanced at Tang Jinzhi’s pen name before returning the phone. She then turned her head to quietly observe Tang Jinzhi, who had just finished a call on the balcony.

Zhang Yueqi suddenly blurted out, “Your wife has been on the balcony all day.”

Jie Xiangyi looked slightly surprised. “All day?”

Was she working?

Tang Jinzhi had mentioned wanting to remodel the balcony to make it more suitable for work.

As Jie Xiangyi pondered this, Zhang Yueqi abruptly interrupted her thoughts again.

“Exactly! She spent the whole day chatting with her new friend, and they seemed to be having a wonderful time. She was so animated and kept smiling the whole time.”

Whenever Zhang Yueqi glanced over, the light in Tang Jinzhi’s eyes never dimmed.

Zhang Yueqi was about to say something more, but Jie Xiangyi couldn’t sit still any longer.

The moment she heard “new friend,” her eyelid began to twitch.

The only person they’d met today was Sheng Yanzhi, wasn’t it?

She was just about to stand up and head to the balcony when Tang Jinzhi returned, a tablet tucked under her arm and her gaze still fixed on her phone as she replied to a message.

Tang Jinzhi: I might not be able to go to the set during filming.

Go die if you’re sick: Social anxiety? Or some other trouble?

Tang Jinzhi carefully considered her words. She didn’t know when the drama would start filming or when they’d need her, but she guessed it wouldn’t be this year. Yu Feishuang’s new drama had only just begun filming.

If it was next year, Tang Jinzhi worried she might be on the run by then.

Joining the production would complicate her escape plans, and there were so many people involved.

By now, Jie Xiangyi had already reached her and grabbed her wrist.

Tang Jinzhi looked up at Jie Xiangyi’s furrowed brows, wondering if she was worried or angry.

Her eyes were filled with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Jie Xiangyi: “A new friend?”

Tang Jinzhi glanced at her phone and nodded blankly. “Yeah.”

Jie Xiangyi took a deep breath. “Didn’t you say you were going to ignore her?”

Tang Jinzhi gave her a strange look, then quickly realized what was happening. She glanced at Zhang Yueqi, who was secretly watching the scene with amusement, and raised an eyebrow.

She tossed her tablet onto the sofa, freeing her hand to grasp Jie Xiangyi’s. With a teasing smile, she asked, “Are you jealous?”

Jie Xiangyi’s gaze flickered away for a moment.

Zhang Yueqi clutched a pillow, burying half his face in it to stifle his laughter. He was practically stomping his feet in excitement—witnessing Jie Xiangyi and Tang Jinzhi’s romance up close was such a rare sight!

Jie Xiangyi cleared her throat and tried to pull her hand away, but Tang Jinzhi held firm. Forced to meet Tang Jinzhi’s gaze, she explained stiffly, “It’s not that. I just don’t want you getting tricked by Sheng Yanzhi.”

Who could have predicted Tang Jinzhi would be so unreliable, making friends with Sheng Yanzhi the moment she turned her back? Jie Xiangyi felt a pang of frustration.

Tang Jinzhi blinked her bright, sparkling eyes. “Oh, so you’re worried about me.”

Jie Xiangyi was teased again, but this time she didn’t retort.

It was true that she was worried about Tang Jinzhi.

But the way Tang Jinzhi said it made the words sound increasingly ambiguous.

Jie Xiangyi’s ears flushed uncontrollably, and she lowered her head with a soft sigh. “Don’t talk to her so much.”

She really wanted Tang Jinzhi to delete Sheng Yanzhi’s contact, but she feared appearing too possessive and alienating Tang Jinzhi. So she settled for this small suggestion. Even so, Jie Xiangyi couldn’t accept the idea of Tang Jinzhi and Sheng Yanzhi chatting so happily.

Tang Jinzhi pressed a hand to her chest, feeling overwhelmed by Jie Xiangyi’s hesitant, vaguely aggrieved expression. Her eyes were filled with a hint of resentment.

Zhang Yueqi had been right all along—the old Jie Xiangyi must have been an adorable, lovable, well-behaved girl.

Because the current Jie Xiangyi was still incredibly cute.

Tang Jinzhi shot a quick, cold glance at Zhang Yueqi. “What are you staring at, kid? Go back to your room.”

Zhang Yueqi: “……”

Though reluctant, the thought of what they might do after she left made her too excited to protest. Afraid of missing out, she grabbed her phone, slipped on her slippers, and scurried back to her room.

Seeing Zhang Yueqi being chased away, Jie Xiangyi’s heart tightened. She felt a surge of nervousness—what was Tang Jinzhi planning?

Tang Jinzhi grinned brightly, casually tossing her phone onto the sofa. She cupped Jie Xiangyi’s face in both hands, kneading and pinching it mercilessly.

“So adorable! What did you eat to grow up so cute?” Tang Jinzhi’s voice was thick with amusement.

Jie Xiangyi was completely bewildered. She instinctively tilted her head back, her hands gripping Tang Jinzhi’s wrists in protest.

She retreated repeatedly, muttering her displeasure in a muffled voice, “What are you doing?!”

Only when she could retreat no further did the two finally settle onto the sofa.

Jie Xiangyi yanked Tang Jinzhi’s hands off her face.

No one had ever dared to mess with her face so brazenly!

She glared at Tang Jinzhi, her face radiating resentment, her hands firmly restraining Tang Jinzhi’s mischievous hands.

Tang Jinzhi raised an eyebrow. “My wife—can’t I even touch your face?”

Jie Xiangyi’s retort died in her throat, but she remained defiant. “That wasn’t just touching!”

Tang Jinzhi teased her, “If I actually touched you, you’d be upset anyway.”

Jie Xiangyi fell silent.

Tang Jinzhi tugged at her restrained hands and said softly, “Let me go.”

Jie Xiangyi lowered her gaze, remaining motionless.

“I still have messages to reply to,” Tang Jinzhi added.

Jie Xiangyi’s brow furrowed even deeper. She huffed coldly, her grip on Tang Jinzhi’s hands tightening.

Since I’ve already lost all dignity, why pretend I don’t care? Jie Xiangyi said coldly, “Don’t reply. Delete her.”

Tang Jinzhi stared at her with a half-amused, half-mocking expression.

Jie Xiangyi grew increasingly uncomfortable under her gaze, lowering her head but refusing to retract her demand.

Sheng Yanzhi had to be deleted. Tang Jinzhi couldn’t maintain any connection with her.

Tang Jinzhi leaned closer, studying Jie Xiangyi’s expression. Suppressing a smile, she murmured, “That wouldn’t be very polite, would it? She even asked me out for a proper discussion. How awkward would it be if I deleted her right before we meet?”

Jie Xiangyi took a deep breath, lifting her head to glare at Tang Jinzhi with fierce disapproval. Her voice rose sharply, “You’re still planning to meet her?”

“Can’t I?” Tang Jinzhi feigned innocence.

Jie Xiangyi’s face darkened. “No!”

Tang Jinzhi lowered her head as if pondering, then relented after a moment. “Fine, I’ll listen to you. Give me my phone, and I’ll reject her.”

Jie Xiangyi eyed her suspiciously. Tang Jinzhi’s sudden compliance made her wonder if she was being overly sensitive.

She retrieved Tang Jinzhi’s phone from the sofa and handed it over.

Under Jie Xiangyi’s watchful gaze, Tang Jinzhi sent a voice message: “I’m not a social recluse. It’s just that my wife won’t let me go out.”

Jie Xiangyi’s eyelid twitched. She hadn’t checked their chat history, mainly because Tang Jinzhi refused to show it to her.

Something about the message felt off, but the thought of Tang Jinzhi calling Sheng Yanzhi “my wife” made her feel strangely comforted.

As soon as the message went through, Tang Jinzhi’s phone began vibrating furiously.

Go Die, You Sicko: What?!

Go Die, You Sicko: Your wife won’t let you go out? Huh?!

Go Die, You Sicko: Is it your health or is she just crazy?

Go Die, You Sicko: If you were too sick to go out, Lin Ai wouldn’t have pushed you onto me. Is your wife crazy?

Go Die If You’re Sick: She’s not one of those yandere types from novels, is she? Your situation sounds so dangerous!

Go Die If You’re Sick: Who is your wife? She’s clearly not normal, and this whole world is messed up.

Tang Jinzhi initially managed to suppress her laughter, but when she met Jie Xiangyi’s curious and complex gaze, she couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

Jie Xiangyi: “What are you laughing at?”

Tang Jinzhi’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as she laughed so hard tears welled up in her eyes before she finally stopped.

She blinked, still smiling, and said, “I’m laughing because you’re so funny.”

Not long after, another message arrived on Tang Jinzhi’s phone.

It was from Lin Ai.

During their afternoon chat, Lin Ai had occasionally chimed in with a few remarks, and Yu Feishuang, when venting her frustrations, would sometimes bring Lin Ai into the conversation.

Lin Ai: Sis, are you not acting because your wife won’t let you leave the house?

Lin Ai: So you’re really suffering that much? You poor thing…

Lin Ai was practically depressed on Tang Jinzhi’s behalf. How could she escape one disaster only to face another?

The laughter Tang Jinzhi had just suppressed threatened to erupt again.

Jie Xiangyi stared silently at Tang Jinzhi, who was still laughing. When Tang Jinzhi finally stopped, Jie Xiangyi asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Are you having a good time chatting with Sheng Yanzhi?”

Jie Xiangyi was seething inwardly, unable to muster even a hint of a smile.

If Tang Jinzhi was enjoying herself so much, demanding she delete Sheng Yanzhi now would make Jie Xiangyi seem utterly unreasonable.

Tang Jinzhi grinned, reached out, and pulled Jie Xiangyi closer.

Jie Xiangyi looked over, her mood darkening. Her resentment toward Sheng Yanzhi was growing stronger by the minute.

Tang Jinzhi showed her her phone.

“Look who this is.”

Jie Xiangyi glanced at the nickname “Go Die If You’re Sick” and the profile picture, then curled her lip.

“Sheng Yanzhi? Is that her nickname? Then why isn’t she dead yet?”

Tang Jinzhi burst into laughter again. Jie Xiangyi, clearly furious, was spitting out venomous remarks.

Tang Jinzhi’s laughter seemed endless, making Jie Xiangyi’s heart ache.

Even if she wasn’t jealous, Jie Xiangyi couldn’t bear Tang Jinzhi laughing so much when the laughter wasn’t directed at her.

It sounded more like she was mocking something.

Jie Xiangyi frowned and snapped coldly, “Don’t laugh!”

Tang Jinzhi coughed forcefully a few times, biting her lip to suppress her laughter. “Alright, alright, I won’t laugh anymore.”

Jie Xiangyi could tell Tang Jinzhi was trying to appease her, and her anger subsided slightly—but only a little. She was still very angry.

Tang Jinzhi had promised her that morning not to play with Sheng Yanzhi, but by the time Jie Xiangyi returned in the afternoon, she had completely forgotten.

Jie Xiangyi withdrew her hand and turned away, refusing to even look at Tang Jinzhi. She said coldly, “You might as well let her capture you. If she does, you’ll deserve it.”

Tang Jinzhi tilted her head and poked Jie Xiangyi’s puffed-up cheek with a finger.

After two pokes, Jie Xiangyi reluctantly dodged away.

Tang Jinzhi thought to herself, Thank goodness I sent Zhang Yueqi back to his room. I managed to salvage Jie Xiangyi’s already precarious image in his eyes. If he had seen her acting so childishly, he would have teased her endlessly afterward.

Jie Xiangyi continued to ignore Tang Jinzhi.

At that moment, Tang Jinzhi realized that Sheng Yanzhi’s danger was far more complex than she had initially imagined. Otherwise, Jie Xiangyi wouldn’t be this angry.

Jie Xiangyi’s anger wasn’t solely due to jealousy. Perhaps there was a hint of it, but her real frustration stemmed from Tang Jinzhi’s disobedience—her continued contact with Sheng Yanzhi despite Xiangyi’s warnings.

If Sheng Yanzhi could make Jie Xiangyi this wary, she must be even more unhinged than Tang Jinzhi had imagined.

Tang Jinzhi tugged gently at Jie Xiangyi’s arm, coaxing softly, “Don’t sulk. Just hear me out.”

Jie Xiangyi glanced at Tang Jinzhi before quickly turning away, coldly spitting out a single word, “Speak.”

Tang Jinzhi looped her arm through Xiangyi’s. “Look at my phone first.”

For a fleeting moment, Jie Xiangyi’s resolve wavered, but she refused to cooperate. “Privacy. I won’t look.”

Each word came out like a sharp jab, a deliberate attempt to convey her lingering anger.

Tang Jinzhi simply held the phone up to her face. “Look at this. I haven’t saved her contact yet, but she’s a director.”

Jie Xiangyi’s gaze fell on the screen. It was the nickname she had used earlier to mock Sheng Yanzhi.

A director?

If this person wasn’t Sheng Yanzhi, Jie Xiangyi felt a pang of embarrassment.

Her voice remained icy. “I’m talking about Sheng Yanzhi. Why are you showing me this?”

It’s all Tang Jinzhi’s fault.

A slow smile spread across Tang Jinzhi’s lips as she lowered the phone and focused intently on Jie Xiangyi. “Remember Lin Ai?” she asked softly.

Jie Xiangyi huffed, “Of course I remember. She’s the big star Sheng Yanzhi sent to lure you out.”

Tang Jinzhi chuckled inwardly. Jie Xiangyi was even resorting to sarcasm—she must be truly jealous.

Unsure, Tang Jinzhi leaned closer to get a better look.

Jie Xiangyi tilted her head, meeting those blinking eyes. “What are you staring at?”

Tang Jinzhi retreated slightly, her soothing words flowing effortlessly. “Nothing. You’re just beautiful.”

She quickly steered the conversation back on track, explaining, “She said Sheng Yanzhi wants to sign me to her entertainment company.”

Seeing Jie Xiangyi about to flare up again, Tang Jinzhi quickly added, “I refused. I swear.”

Jie Xiangyi fell silent.

Tang Jinzhi continued, “I don’t even act, but Lin Ai doesn’t know that. She recommended a director and wants me to audition for a third-tier role. Just so you know, he’s her friend, not connected to Sheng Yanzhi at all.”

Jie Xiangyi remained silent, but her tense nerves visibly relaxed. Her stiff body softened slightly—Tang Jinzhi could feel it as she held her arm.

“Even though I don’t act, I added this director’s contact information. I want her to adapt my novel into a TV series.”

Jie Xiangyi nodded subconsciously, thinking Tang Jinzhi’s plan was quite good.

“But what does Sheng Yanzhi have to do with this?” Jie Xiangyi couldn’t help but ask.

Tang Jinzhi had explained so much, yet Sheng Yanzhi hadn’t been mentioned at all.

Tang Jinzhi chuckled softly. “Nothing at all. Neither of the people I was chatting with was Sheng Yanzhi.”

Jie Xiangyi was momentarily stunned. “Then where is Sheng Yanzhi?”

Tang Jinzhi smiled, opened her phone, and navigated to the contact request page.

“Right here.”

Sheng Yanzhi had indeed sent a friend request that afternoon, recommended by Lin Ai. Lin Ai had asked for Tang Jinzhi’s permission before sharing her contact information, and Tang Jinzhi, not wanting to put Lin Ai in an awkward position, had agreed.

After all, whether she accepted the request was her own decision, and had nothing to do with Lin Ai.

So Sheng Yanzhi’s name now lay serenely in her pending requests.

This was likely Sheng Yanzhi’s alternate account, since her main account was still blocked.

Tang Jinzhi grinned at the dumbfounded Jie Xiangyi. “Honestly, after all your nagging and warnings, do you really think I’m that unreliable?”

Jie Xiangyi’s expression was dazed. So Tang Jinzhi had been chatting with this director all afternoon? About work?

Tang Jinzhi was teasing her again, deliberately withholding the fact that her conversation partner wasn’t Sheng Yanzhi.

Jie Xiangyi fully woke up, her throat dry as she swallowed. “Then who were you replying to earlier?”

Tang Jinzhi leaned in close to Jie Xiangyi’s ear. “Director Yu, my new friend.”

Her lips almost brushed Jie Xiangyi’s ear as she whispered, “Who said a new friend had to be Sheng Yanzhi?”

Jie Xiangyi closed her eyes briefly, her cheeks flushing deeper. She had jumped to conclusions, automatically assuming it was Sheng Yanzhi after hearing about her plans to reconnect with Tang Jinzhi.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she demanded.

You had to wait until I got angry to clarify things.

Tang Jinzhi retorted with mock righteousness, “Well, you misunderstood me first. Besides, I thought you looked cute when you were mad. I wanted to see your reaction.”

Jie Xiangyi gritted her teeth.

She crossed her legs, pushed away Tang Jinzhi, who was still pressed against her, and turned her back, refusing to acknowledge her.

But with the weight of Sheng Yanzhi’s threat lifted, Jie Xiangyi felt a sense of relief. This time, her anger was purely because Tang Jinzhi was teasing her.

Tang Jinzhi poked Jie Xiangyi’s back.

Jie Xiangyi remained as still as a mountain.

“Are you sure you’re not going to talk to me?”

Jie Xiangyi didn’t utter a word.

“My yandere wife, you seem to have overlooked something.”