Wish to Get Rich But Wear a Scumbag A - Chapter 9

Yan He wasn’t possessive about food at all, but she genuinely loved corn.

Shelled kernels wouldn’t do; she had to gnaw the whole cob herself.

Like a hamster storing winter food, she’d meticulously strip each row clean, savoring the sense of accomplishment.

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them, but her hands betrayed her, snatching the plate without hesitation.

She didn’t pause for a second, terrified the female lead might snatch it first.

So what if I lose favor points? They’re already at negative infinity anyway.

As for the “heartfelt breakfast” mission…

What mission?

I forgot.

A mere 500,000 yuan wouldn’t even dent the Original Host’s fortune.

Qi Xingwan withdrew her hand with a soft sigh.

She couldn’t quite figure out what Yan He was trying to do.

Judging by her expression, she seemed to be in a good mood. Should she bring up the job now?

The Yan Family didn’t want her working after marriage, especially not as a high-profile actress.

Yan He’s attitude wasn’t as rigid as the old matriarch’s, but it wasn’t exactly supportive either—as unpredictable as her personality.

If possible, Qi Xingwan wanted to avoid a complete falling-out with Yan He and the Yan Family.

Remembering the scene of her mother kneeling on the ground, begging her to save her maternal family, Qi Xingwan sighed again.

The second sigh was unmistakable. Yan He paused mid-bite of her corn, her gaze dropping to sweep across Qi Xingwan’s knees.

Qi Xingwan was wearing a skirt. The thin fabric barely concealed the bruises on her knees, but it couldn’t hide the medicinal ointment’s scent.

Perhaps the pain from the whip marks on her back had kept her restless all night, even as she lay on her side.

Yan He felt a pang of sympathy for the female lead.

Yan He, Yan He! The female lead just wants some corn, not the stars in the sky! How can you be so stingy?!

While berating herself, Yan He grabbed the largest ear of corn and handed it to Qi Xingwan, apologizing guiltily, “I’m sorry. I thought cutting it into smaller pieces would be easier for you, but I didn’t mean to ruin your breakfast…”

Qi Xingwan had already been about to wash an apple when she unexpectedly managed to snatch the corn from Yan He’s grasp.

She took the corn and began eating slowly, glancing at the messy table. “You really like corn,” she remarked casually. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned it before?”

Yan He had been pampered by her family since childhood. The greatest hardship she’d likely ever faced was drinking an iced Americano—a rare occurrence, given her apparent dislike for coffee.

During their courtship, Yan He never suggested coffee shops, always opting for tea houses in the city center. Even when the journey was long, she refused to compromise.

Even when she’d taken the liberty of hosting a dinner in Qi Xingwan’s name, she’d sent tea leaves as a gift.

This absurdly stubborn preference remained vividly etched in Qi Xingwan’s memory.

In a sea of milk tea ordered by the film crew, someone gifting a tin of tea leaves and a carton of pure milk would inevitably leave a lasting impression.

It was hard to imagine such a person making breakfast for her.

Having learned her lesson from the previous night, Yan He decided to play it cool and let the question hang in the air. Feigning dissatisfaction, she asked, “You don’t know?”

Immediately, she mentally scrambled:  Does the Original Host even like corn?

Emergency! Emergency! Emergency!

You can’t just leave me hanging!

Xiao Qi, Xiao Qi, get online quick! I can’t survive without you!

Qi Xingwan frowned. “How would I know your preferences?”

Receiving no response, Yan He braced herself and went on stage. “Aren’t we wives? Mutual understanding is only natural…”

Qi Xingwan’s lips curled into an enigmatic smile. “So you’re saying it’s my fault?”

This… this is being a bit unreasonable, isn’t it? Yan He stammered guiltily, “N-no, no, it’s my fault. I should have been more honest with you.”

Great and mighty female lead, please spare this humble servant!

The great and mighty female lead sensed a hint of secrets and had no intention of stopping there.

“Honest?” Qi Xingwan tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Why would you need to be honest with me?”

Second Miss Yan, the aloof heiress, actually admitting fault?

What a rare sight.

She seems terrified of me. Why?

Has her brain finally short-circuited?

Why? You stingy, calculating affection meter! Yan He wanted to cry at the thought of affection points being deducted by the dozens for the slightest misstep, while half a day’s hard work only earned her a measly ten points.

She felt utterly exhausted, like a sixty-year-old woman who had woken up at five on a weekend to cook a day’s worth of meals for her extended family, then rushed to a company team-building event, only to be coaxed onto the stage to sing and accidentally spit her dentures onto her supervisor’s head.

In her next life, if there is one, she’ll never make careless wishes again!

Yan He summoned her best acting skills from her teaching certification interview and declared, “Because we’re wives, Qi Xingwan! Wives are one, and I should be honest with you!”

“Wives?” Qi Xingwan’s expression darkened. She scoffed, “Didn’t you call me a dog you bought to satisfy your desires? Miss Yan, you certainly have a selective memory.”

That… that… damned… original… owner!

A massive blame had fallen on Yan He, but she bore it with practiced composure.

“I’m sorry!”

Apologize first, ask questions later.

“I used to act like a fool and bully you. I was a terrible wife—a complete beast!”

The word “beast” echoed through the dining room, delivered with genuine remorse.

“I truly understand my mistakes now. Can you give me another chance? I promise I’ll never hurt you again!”

“I… I’ll listen to you from now on. You’re in charge of this house! If you tell me to go east, I won’t even glance west!”

Qi Xingwan remained silent, scrutinizing her with unfamiliar eyes.

“If you don’t believe me, I… you, you can hit me back!” Yan He blurted out desperately, grasping at any desperate idea. “Come on, slap me!”