After the Harem Novel’s Female Lead was Spoiled by the Comments - Chapter 16

Yan Qingwen was seized by an urgent desire to leave, feeling as though something would collapse if she stayed a moment longer.

However, a sudden retreat would make it look like she had a guilty conscience. She never easily showed weakness in front of Wen Hebai, so she forced herself to endure until the hair washing was finished.

“Blow-dry it yourself.” After dropping these words, Yan Qingwen walked out of the room to pour herself a glass of water.

She banished the lingering image of that accidental glimpse of spring from her mind, drinking water continuously to cool down her cheeks.

Wen Hebai’s teasing and ambiguous laughter rang out from behind her: “Darling, just now in the bathroom (washing hair) felt really good. But your clothes are so wet—shouldn’t you dry off first?”

The water Yan Qingwen had just swallowed nearly choked her. She turned around and caught a glimpse of Lu Tie out of the corner of her eye. Lu Tie was coming up with a pile of miscellaneous items but, having clearly imagined something inappropriate, was now blushing a deep crimson.

This speed is too fast! This is not the car I should be on.

Lu Tie blurted out, “Sorry, I’ll come up later,” and hurriedly ran back downstairs.

An exasperated Yan Qingwen spat out the crudest word she had ever used in her life at the culprit: “Get out.”

It wasn’t until they changed clothes to head out that Yan Qingwen realized Wen Hebai had called a stylist to the house. The stylist only slightly curled the ends of Wen’s hair to give it a natural wave; there wasn’t much change elsewhere.

Since the pay was good, the stylist had no complaints and even enthusiastically suggested she wear a brown French-style beret to cover the bandages on her head, which matched her overall outfit perfectly.

Wen Hebai was a walking clothes rack who could pull off any style, and this fashionable, casual look felt entirely natural on her.

Seeing Yan Qingwen, Wen Hebai’s mouth curled into a smile: “Do a styling for my wife, too!”

Wearing the clothes Wen Hebai had picked for her, Yan Qingwen finally looked like someone her age, but her hair was still in an elegant, formal updo, which detracted from the look.

With Yan Qingwen’s silent permission, the stylist trimmed her hair slightly and styled it into a side-parted LOB (long bob), then topped it with a white British vintage wide-brimmed hat. She instantly transformed from a workplace “strong woman” into a literary, intellectual youth.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Yan Qingwen felt a bit like a stranger. Since becoming the President of the Yan Group, the labels on her could only be “elegant,” “intellectual,” “dignified,” and “noble.” The youthful vitality belonging to her age had been stripped away.

She twitched the corner of her mouth. Had she gone mad? To actually listen to Wen Hebai’s arrangements and dress up like this.

However, today was a special day; she would make an exception just this once!

When they returned to the Yan family’s private manor, the butler nearly failed to recognize her: “Eld—Eldest Miss?”

Yan Qingwen found his reaction amusing and nodded slightly: “Good evening.”

The butler snapped back to his senses and hurriedly said, “Good evening, Eldest Miss, Fourth Miss Wen.”

Wen Hebai brushed her hair behind her neck and corrected his form of address: “Uncle Qi, now that I’m married to A-Wen, you should call me ‘Young Madam’ or ‘Mrs. Yan’.”

Although Yan Qingwen was now President Yan, there was still an Old Madam and a Madam in the house. The butler, who had worked for the Yans for over twenty years, was more accustomed to calling Yan Aotian’s wife “Madam,” so he chose to address Wen Hebai as “Young Madam.”

“Wife, let’s go in!” Wen Hebai and Yan Qingwen entered the living room with their fingers tightly interlaced, looking very much like a loving couple.

The butler sighed behind them, surprised to see them appearing as a pair again after so many years.

In the living room, three women of distinct styles were chatting on the sofa by the French windows, while the white-haired Tu Sihua was watching a currently popular period rural drama.

“Grandmother is binge-watching my show!” Wen Hebai showed off proudly to Yan Qingwen.

Their appearance caught everyone’s attention. It was as if a pause button had been pressed; the conversation stopped abruptly. Aside from the slightly hard-of-hearing Tu Sihua, everyone’s gaze fell on their entwined hands.

“Qingwen is back!” The first to speak was a woman dressed in jewels and dripping with wealth—she almost had “I am a socialite” written on her face. She ignored Wen Hebai entirely.

Wen Hebai naturally knew her; she was Yan Qingwen’s eldest aunt, Xiao Bailian, a “nouveau riche” who had made her fortune by relying on the Yan Group’s resources.

The woman dressed in an intellectual and fashionable style, adorned only with a pair of platinum earrings, was Yan Qingwen’s aunt, Yan Su. She took the initiative to stand up, took Wen Hebai’s hand, and asked about her injury.

Wen Hebai used to visit the Yan house often as a child, so her relationship with Yan Su was naturally close. Furthermore, while she and Yan Qingwen were fighting tooth and nail in the entertainment industry, Yan Su had been abroad and wasn’t very clear on their history; hence, her attitude toward Wen had not changed.

“Qingwen, what’s with this outfit?” The elegant and refined second aunt, Hai Hou, could not hide the surprise on her face.

Yan Qingwen smiled slightly and asked, “Does Second Aunt think it doesn’t suit me?”

“It suits you, it suits you perfectly!” Yan Su squeezed past Hai Hou. “You should dress like this more often so you don’t look so old-fashioned.”

As a jewelry designer by trade, Yan Su greatly appreciated the change in Yan Qingwen’s styling, finding her look very eye-catching. Moreover, one could tell this wasn’t Yan’s own handiwork; it was very likely coordinated by Wen Hebai.

She felt a sense of relief; she had been a bit worried their marriage was a compromise for certain interests, but seeing them today, their relationship was more harmonious than rumored.

After greeting them, Yan Qingwen took Wen Hebai to see her grandmother, Tu Sihua, and then went alone to the study to see her grandfather, Yan Lianchen.

Upon entering, she found her parents, Yan Aotian and Xiao Baihua, as well as her second uncle, Yan Ritian, also present.

When they first saw her, they felt a sense of strangeness. Only after she greeted them did they put away their stunned expressions.

“You finally decided to come back?” Yan Aotian sat on the sofa like a king, his deep eyes landing on Yan Qingwen. An invisible pressure instantly surged toward her.

As the only child of him and Xiao Baihua, their love for her was genuine, but their expectations were also the highest. Seeing their usually obedient daughter defy them and choose a “deviant” path, they were both heartbroken and furious.

Yan Qingwen withstood the pressure and said, “Father, this is my home. I never thought about not coming back.”

“Qingwen, how could you like Hebai? Yunhan is such a good boy.” Xiao Baihua still couldn’t accept this reality, leaning against her husband and wiping away tears.

Yan Aotian embraced her protectively and shot a sharp glare at Yan Qingwen: “You’ve broken your mother’s heart too much.”

Yan Qingwen paused, then said, “Father, don’t use ‘dirty’ words.”

Everyone in the study was stunned. Yan Ritian couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing.

The dull, serious, and smoke-filled atmosphere instantly vanished into thin air.

Yan Lianchen glared at his irreverent second son and spoke up: “Alright, they’ve already registered. Even if you criticize her now, it won’t help. Can we actually force them to divorce?”

Yan Aotian furrowed his brows and remained silent; Xiao Baihua, intimidated by Yan Lianchen’s authority, didn’t dare speak either.

Yan Lianchen motioned for Yan Qingwen to sit down, but a dangerous, beast-like gaze erupted from his eyes: “Tell me, then—what are you thinking?”

Yan Qingwen remained unfazed in the face of danger: “Grandfather, I like her. Is that reason enough?”