Chapter 17: Will You Marry Me?

Tan Qingya had only called to check on how Zhou Jianghao and the dog were getting along. Seeing that things seemed fine, she was about to hang up when Zhou Jianghao suddenly asked, “Are you coming back for dinner tonight?”

“No need to wait for me. I have a business dinner, and I might be late,” Tan Qingya replied. Then, changing the subject, she added, “What do you want to eat? I can have something sent over.”

“Huh?”

Zhou Jianghao’s voice was full of confusion. Tan Qingya couldn’t see her expression on the screen, and it took a few seconds before her voice came through again.

“No need. Go ahead and stay busy.”

The call ended quickly, but Tan Qingya’s brows remained furrowed as she replayed their conversation in her mind.

Why on earth had Zhou Jianghao asked out of the blue if she was coming home for dinner?

Just then, Chen Chen walked in. Tan Qingya looked up at her. “If your wife asks if you’re coming home for dinner, what does that mean?”

Chen Chen had married her first love of seven years last year. The two of them had a great relationship, bolstered by those seven years of dating experience. She was the perfect person to ask about this.

“If my wife asks if I’m coming home for dinner?” Chen Chen blinked, then said without thinking, “That probably means she’s acting cute, wanting me to come home and eat with her.”

Tan Qingya froze.

Acting… cute?

Chen Chen, oblivious, nodded firmly. “That’s it. Why else would she ask out of nowhere if not to hint that she wants me home with her?”

So clingy.

Tan Qingya thought back to her own response, and her brows knitted even tighter. “What if you say you have to work, and your wife tells you to go ahead and be busy, no need to keep her company for dinner…”

Before she could finish, Chen Chen gave her a look of amused exasperation. “That has to be reverse psychology. She’s sulking.”

“…”

Tan Qingya fell silent.

Sulking?

Would Zhou Jianghao sulk just because she wasn’t coming home for dinner? It didn’t seem likely. They barely knew each other; Zhou Jianghao shouldn’t be that attached.

Even so, Tan Qingya couldn’t help but get into the car home early.

Just in case.

After all, Zhou Jianghao was new to her place. The apartment was huge, and she was there all alone. The poor girl might be scared but too shy to say it.

With that in mind, she couldn’t resist urging Little Wang a few times. “Hurry it up.”

She looked positively eager to get home.

Little Wang stole a glance at his boss in the rearview mirror and said cautiously, “Any faster and we’ll be speeding, President Tan. What do you think?”

The back seat went quiet for a moment.

“Think about what? About the two of us sipping tea at the station? Drive properly. Rules are meant to be followed.”

Tan Qingya gently closed her eyes, puzzled by her own impatience. What was the rush? Zhou Jianghao wasn’t a three-year-old who needed an adult watching over her.

The ride passed in silence.

It was not yet seven when they arrived home. She entered the passcode and opened the apartment door, only to pause at the rich aroma filling the air.

“President Tan?”

Zhou Jianghao, seated at the dining table, looked a bit flustered. The moment she saw Tan Qingya, she shot to her feet, seeming at a loss.

Little Beauty, lying at her feet, stood up as well.

Two pairs of dark, shiny eyes turned toward her. Tan Qingya paused for a few seconds, her gaze slowly shifting upward to the bowl of instant noodles on the table. Her brows furrowed. “Why are you eating this?”

Steam rose from the bowl, carrying an enticing fragrance. It was loaded with toppings—not just ham sausage, but a braised egg too. It looked downright appetizing.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was junk food.

Zhou Jianghao replied, “It’s convenient.”

No wonder she was skin and bones. Eating this nutrient-void stuff every day for convenience? How could she gain any weight?

Tan Qingya stepped forward, picked up the bowl with a touch of authority, and said, “No more of this from now on.”

She dumped the steaming noodles, then turned to see Zhou Jianghao staring dazedly at the trash bin. Softening a little, she opened the fridge. “If you like noodles, I can cook some for you.”

“No need.” Zhou Jianghao finally snapped out of it and took a few steps forward. “Have you eaten, President Tan? If not, let me cook something for you.”

She was being paid three thousand a day as a nanny—how could she let her employer cook for her?

That would turn host and guest upside down.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.” Tan Qingya tilted her chin slightly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You and Little Beauty go watch TV in the living room.”

“I…”

Seeing Zhou Jianghao about to protest, Tan Qingya turned to her, brows slightly furrowed, and instinctively treated her like Little Beauty. “Be good.”

She realized her mistake the moment the words left her mouth, but they seemed effective all the same. Zhou Jianghao shuffled off to the living room, awkward as could be.

Hmm—

So that was it. Treat her the same way she treated Little Beauty?

Knowing Zhou Jianghao wasn’t allergic to seafood, Tan Qingya cooked two hearty bowls of seafood noodle soup, packed with more toppings than noodles.

She had always been competitive, striving to be the best at everything—including cooking, at which she excelled.

The colorful, aromatic bowls hit the table, instantly banishing any trace of the instant noodle smell. The entire living room filled with the savory scent.

Satisfied, Tan Qingya handed Zhou Jianghao a pair of chopsticks and pulled out a chair. “Dig in.”

Zhou Jianghao took the chopsticks but didn’t move, looking terribly uncomfortable. “President Tan, you’re… too polite. I’m just the high-paid nanny you hired.”

She said the last part with utmost seriousness.

Tan Qingya chuckled and pressed down on her shoulders to seat her, then took the chair opposite. Casually, she said, “Your job is to look after Silly Dog, not me.”

After a pause, she added with a teasing half-smile, “What’s this about being my nanny now? Didn’t you say you wanted to be my wife? Changed your mind about marrying me?”

No sooner had the words left her lips than Zhou Jianghao’s ear tips flushed bright red.

Ah, how pinchable.

“I do,” Zhou Jianghao said, lifting her head. There was a stubborn glint in her dark eyes. “Will you marry me?”

Tan Qingya was caught off guard. The answer had been tucked away in her heart for a while now, but she wasn’t ready to say it just yet. After a moment’s hesitation, she pointed at the bowl. “Eat up, or it’ll clump.”

The subject change wasn’t too abrupt—the noodles really would clump if left too long.

But the disappointment that flickered across Zhou Jianghao’s usually calm face was too obvious, pricking at Tan Qingya in a way she couldn’t ignore.

She tamped down her emotions, barely keeping the words from spilling out right then.

In the living room, the two women ate their noodles in quiet focus. Compared to Tan Qingya’s refined elegance, Zhou Jianghao devoured hers at a much faster pace. Tan Qingya glanced up casually to find that the woman across from her had already polished off more than half her bowl.

It was like a whirlwind sweeping through.

That hungry?

She looked down at her own bowl; next to Zhou Jianghao’s, hers hardly seemed touched.

Clack—

The sound of chopsticks hitting the table snapped Tan Qingya back. When she looked up again, Zhou Jianghao was cradling her bowl in both hands, lips pressed to the rim. Noticing the gaze, she froze, a touch of unease on her face.

Tan Qingya quickly averted her eyes.

Compared to that time at the restaurant, Zhou Jianghao had eaten a proper amount this time.

Of course—nothing beat her home cooking.