After the Harem Novel’s Female Lead was Spoiled by the Comments - Chapter 15

Wen Hebai, piqued by her own curiosity, still intended to snag a bite of the black sesame paste: “Is it good? Give me a taste.”

Yan Qingwen’s movements paused for a second before she scooped a spoonful for her.

This was already the greatest concession Yan Qingwen could make; it was impossible for her to personally bring it to Wen’s lips.

Wen Hebai leaned in and ate it. After savoring it for a moment, her jade-like face revealed an expression of questioning her very existence: “How do you manage to eat half a bowl of flavorless sesame paste without changing your expression?”

“Pure, original sesame paste is supposed to be tasteless.”

Wen Hebai: “…”

I didn’t expect her personality to be dull and her palate to be just as dull!

Yan Qingwen smiled faintly: “Still want more?”

Wen Hebai politely declined.

At that moment, Yan Qingwen’s phone rang. She put down the bowl, picked up the phone, and walked out onto the balcony.

Wen Hebai caught a glimpse of the screen; it was Yan Qingwen’s father, Yan Aotian, calling.

While waiting for the father and daughter to finish their call, Wen Hebai, refusing to believe it was that bad, took another bite of the sesame paste. The sugarless paste smelled very fragrant, but after swallowing, a slight bitterness lingered on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t have the courage for a third bite and quickly put the bowl back where it was.

Outside the French windows, Yan Qingwen happened to capture the scene of her “stealing” a bite. The corners of her mouth couldn’t help but tilt up slightly, but hearing the voice from the phone, she pursed her lips again.

Ending the call and returning to the study, Yan Qingwen said: “My father and the others heard about your injury; they want us to go back to the manor.”

Wen Hebai didn’t dwell on why they weren’t coming here to visit her, saying: “I have time anyway, it depends on how you arrange it.”

“Then we’ll go back for dinner tomorrow night. It’s a good chance to let them know that our marriage is serious.”

Wen Hebai understood; the Yan family elders had not yet given up on the idea of an alliance between Yan Qingwen and Jiang Yunhan.

In high society, getting married and then divorced, or playing around separately after marriage, is all too common. Moreover, the Yan family didn’t approve of a marriage between two women at all. If they discovered there were no feelings between them and that the marriage was just a snap decision, they would inevitably find ways to make them divorce.

At this thought, Wen Hebai felt a surge of fighting spirit: “I will use the best acting skills of my life to play this role well.”

Yan Qingwen’s gaze flickered slightly. After a long pause, she gave a neutral “un-huh.”

The next day, Yan Qingwen went to the office in the morning. After finishing lunch there, she went straight home.

Originally, she planned to go to the manor directly after work, but she received a call from Wen Hebai at noon saying that today was the third day of their marriage—traditionally the day the bride returns to her family home—and that they must dress beautifully and grandly.

Considering there would be a tough battle to fight that evening, Yan Qingwen also wanted to conserve her energy, so she pushed back her afternoon work.

Returning to the villa, she found more suitcases and cardboard boxes had been added to the house.

Auntie Lan and Wen Hebai’s assistant, Lu Tie, were unpacking boxes and placing the items in suitable spots.

Yan Qingwen took a deep breath, telling herself that this was also Wen Hebai’s home. Their “three-point covenant” did not include a ban on Wen Hebai remodeling or decorating the residence.

“President Yan!” Every time Lu Tie saw Yan Qingwen, she was intimidated by that powerful aura. Furthermore, having followed Wen Hebai’s instructions to put up her murals and ornaments—effectively disrupting the villa’s overall aesthetic—she felt quite guilty.

Yan Qingwen nodded and asked: “Where is Wen—where is Hebai?”

“She’s tidying her room,” Auntie Lan replied.

Wen Hebai was currently putting her newly moved clothes and shoes into the wardrobe. However, the guest room wardrobe was too small and her clothes were too many, so she could only turn her gaze toward Yan Qingwen’s master bedroom, which had a walk-in closet.

Coincidentally, Yan Qingwen came upstairs. Wen said: “I’ll put some of my clothes in your walk-in closet. That way, others won’t know we’re actually sleeping in separate rooms.”

Since she had agreed to act the full part, Yan Qingwen pondered for three seconds before turning to open her door: “Put them in.”

Wen Hebai decisively moved more than half of her wardrobe into Yan Qingwen’s closet.

Yan Qingwen watched from the side, seemingly seeing through her little scheme: “The ones you’re leaving in your own room are formal dresses you rarely wear. The ones you put in my room are daily clothes you wear often. Your calculations are quite loud.”

Wen Hebai said without blinking: “Precisely because they are daily clothes, I need someone who can give me outfit advice. That’s why putting them in your room is most convenient.”

Yan Qingwen didn’t think she’d have time to give outfit feedback, but there were no important confidential documents in the room, so she let her be.

After hanging the clothes, Wen Hebai called out to her: “By the way, help me pick an outfit for tonight, along with shoes and accessories.”

“Tonight is a family banquet. Second Uncle and Aunt will likely be there. Dressing too casually would be improper, but there’s no need to be too formal. This purple long dress, then.”

Wen Hebai was disgusted: “No way. My fans say I look like a purple sweet potato spirit in that.”

“Then why did you buy it in the first place?”

“The brand sent it as a gift; I didn’t buy it.”

Yan Qingwen realized there was no need for her to be so dedicated, so she randomly pulled out a loose, pine-frost green shirt and paired it with white casual pants.

Wen Hebai’s eyes lit up: “Retro style is trending lately. This set is quite good. Pairing it with a silk scarf would be too cool!”

Yan Qingwen: “…”

Truly worthy of a Best Actress, she’s so good at finding her own way out of a situation.

“You wear this set of mine; our figures are about the same anyway.” Wen Hebai dug out a similarly retro-style light green loose suit jacket, a T-shirt for underneath, and a pair of loose jeans.

In recent years, Yan Qingwen’s clothes had leaned more and more toward cold tones like black, white, and gray. Perhaps because she took over the Yan Group at such a young age, she faced much outside skepticism and was often given a hard time by the senior shareholders. She couldn’t change her age, so she could only work on her attire to make herself look more mature, steady, elegant, and dignified.

Therefore, this brightly colored and fashionable outfit would make her look much more vivid and bright.

Yan Qingwen opened her mouth to refuse, but Wen Hebai held the clothes against her to measure: “This way, we’ll have a ‘couple’ look.”

Considering the purpose of the banquet, Yan Qingwen dropped the idea of refusing.

After picking the clothes, Wen Hebai went to shower. Yan Qingwen wanted to take the chance to have a nap, but unexpectedly, just as she had changed into her pajamas, Wen Hebai—wrapped in a bath towel and not yet dressed—ran in to find her: “Darling, help me wash my hair.”

“No need to act so hard in private,” Yan Qingwen said, her skin crawling with goosebumps.

“That won’t do. One has to shout more, remember more, and recite more. It would be unprofessional to forget my lines once I’m in front of the camera.”

Yan Qingwen was speechless. Her gaze swept over Wen Hebai’s head: “You have an injury; why wash your hair?”

“Going to a banquet with greasy hair? Don’t I want my image? Besides, if I wash it myself, I’ll get the wound wet.”

“Find Auntie Lan or Xiao Lu.”

“They’re busy,” Wen Hebai urged. “As your wife, how can I appear at the Yan home looking unkempt? My appointment with the stylist is coming up; hurry up.”

This was the price of dealing with Wen Hebai. After weighing her options, Yan Qingwen compromised once again.

The master bedroom bathtub was the most suitable in shape and configuration for a semi-reclined soak. Wen Hebai leaned back at one end, resting her head on the bathtub’s built-in pillow.

The warm water wetted her hair. She closed her eyes, leisurely enjoying the service from Yan Qingwen.

Actually, this wasn’t the first time Yan Qingwen had washed her hair.

Back when they shared a dorm in school, Wen Hebai had once fractured her hand practicing street dance, and Yan Qingwen had helped her wash it a few times.

She thought that after their falling out, such harmonious and loving acts would never happen again. Unexpectedly… life is full of ironies.

“Do not be distracted,” Wen Hebai opened her eyes to remind her.

Yan Qingwen thought water had splashed on the wound, but found it hadn’t.

“I’m not.”

“You aren’t even looking at me, how is that not being distracted?” Wen Hebai said, “I’m very sensitive to your gaze; don’t try to lie to me.”

Yan Qingwen was speechless: “Make one more demand and you can wash it yourself.”

Wen Hebai shut her mouth, but she bent her legs; the towel that was barely covering her thighs began to slide down.

Her skin, fresh from the bath, was tender and elastic. Droplets of water slid quietly down, carrying the fragrance of shower gel that permeated the ambiguous space.

The dense mist blurred her vision.

Yan Qingwen looked away, her cheeks heating up slightly.