Chapter 84: A Light Scratch on the Belly

After Bai Yan finished speaking, she lazily leaned against Jiang Chengyan’s chest. Having soaked in the water for a while, she felt quite uncomfortable; though she’d recovered a bit, she was still not entirely at ease.

Jiang Chengyan’s gaze lingered on his young wife’s head. She seemed utterly ignorant of affection; perhaps, in her heart, his importance truly was no more than that of a stone—just one that could earn some money. As this thought crossed his mind, his eyes grew darker.

Lost in contemplation, he was suddenly interrupted when Bai Yan crawled out from his embrace and lay down beside him, clutching his hand and urging him to rub her gently.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Chengyan’s face was cold as he looked at Bai Yan, his expression intimidating.

But Bai Yan was growing less and less afraid of him. She opened her eyes wide, looking obedient, and said, “Scratch my tummy.”

She resembled a little puppy begging for a scratch.

Jiang Chengyan was not an ordinary man. Were it someone else, they’d likely rush to pamper such a little ancestor, but he was different. He leaned in, his gaze locking with Bai Yan’s, his long fingers resting at a spot on her abdomen. His voice was low and chilling, “Rabbit liver is right here. Shall I take you to eat some braised rabbit liver?”

Her round, innocent eyes froze, and then, abruptly, she sprawled across the edge of the kang and began retching.

When Grandpa Jiang, Grandma Jiang, and Madam Qian entered the room, this was the scene they encountered.

Bai Yan was hunched over the edge of the kang, retching miserably. Zhao, walking behind with Father Jiang, saw Bai Yan’s pitiful state and immediately dashed into the kitchen, grabbed a cleaver, and charged at Jiang Chengyan. “You heartless scoundrel! She’s just a child, and you let her get pregnant?!”

Zhao’s ferocity sent everyone in the room scattering in panic, except Jiang Chengyan, who calmly caught the knife handle in one hand.

“She’s not pregnant.” With his other hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose, sounding thoroughly exhausted.

“Then why is she retching? If she’s not pregnant, what’s going on?” Zhao’s words were fierce, but her hand on Bai Yan’s back was gentle.

“I scared her.” Jiang Chengyan admitted his wrongdoing with utter composure.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhao’s fist landed hard on his shoulder. “How dare you frighten her? She’s still so young—why don’t you go scare someone else? Jiang Yuan is right here, why not frighten her?”

Jiang Yuan: “?????”

Unwittingly drawn into the fray, Jiang Yuan’s attention was now entirely fixed on this west room.

This newly built house was spacious and bright, but more importantly, the décor was exceptionally warm, clearly prepared with precision for this little fox.

The dressing table was tall and gleaming, and the chair beneath it was carved at the back with a chubby little tail. The curtains were made of pale pink fabric, edged with a row of tassels. Most striking of all were the pillows and quilts—delicate in every way.

Jiang Yuan knew quality, but not as well as Madam Qian.

Madam Qian reached out to touch the quilt, surprise flashing in her eyes. “Ayan must have spent quite a bit on this quilt.”

Jiang Chengyan responded only with a cool nod.

“I’ve fried you some candied peanuts—get up, wash your face, and eat,” Zhao said tenderly, helping Bai Yan sit up.

“What are you all standing around for? If you’ve come to eat, why aren’t you helping?” Seeing the crowd still gathered, Zhao raised her voice, scolding everyone indiscriminately, regardless of the two elders present.

Grandma Jiang, covering her ears as she left, grumbled to Father Jiang with exasperation, “I told you back then to find another wife, but you just had to choose this tigress.”

Father Jiang scratched his head and replied with a simple, foolish smile.