Awakened by the movement beside him, Wei Hanyun propped his head on one hand and watched Zhong Ziyan's performance.
Old Madam Yu affectionately smoothed Zhong Ziyan’s sleep-mussed hair. "Still not fully awake?"
Zhong Ziyan: "...I'm awake." What else could she say? It wasn’t like she could crawl back to sleep next to Wei Hanyun.
"Let’s go shopping later!" Wei Hanyan cheerfully suggested. "Dad said Little Uncle has a meeting this morning, so you two won’t leave until the afternoon."
Zhong Ziyan nodded instinctively, her tone bold and generous. "Sure, let’s buy stuff."
"We’ll wait for you in the downstairs living room—no rush, take your time." Wei Hanyan, sharp-eared, caught the faint rustling from inside the room and quickly closed the door with a playful grin.
Zhong Ziyan stood motionless for two seconds before lazily stretching and yawning.
Retirement life truly lived up to its name—it had made her lazier than ever.
She tossed her pillow effortlessly onto the bed and headed into the bathroom.
Wei Hanyun’s bedroom was absurdly large—designed as a double room but spacious enough to rival a presidential suite.
Two people could easily brush their teeth, wash their faces, or even shave inside without bumping into each other. Hell, they could probably dance the tango in there without issue.
As Zhong Ziyan brushed her teeth with an electric toothbrush, she curiously glanced at Wei Hanyun shaving.
Since they slept in separate rooms at Tingshan, she had never shared a morning bathroom routine with him before.
Nor had she ever seen the usually refined and aristocratic Wei Hanyun in the midst of such a mundane task.
Then again, no matter how wealthy someone was, hiring someone to wash their face, brush their teeth, or shave for them every morning would still be… weird.
…Probably.
Zhong Ziyan wasn’t entirely sure.
Wei Hanyun had just finished applying shaving foam when he caught her staring in the mirror. "Curious?"
Zhong Ziyan nodded honestly.
"Want to try?" Wei Hanyun flipped the razor around and handed it to her.
Zhong Ziyan had wielded knives, guns, and staffs far more often than pens. She took the razor with practiced ease. "Don’t move. I’ll be quick."
She steadied his face with one hand and carefully drew the blade down his cheek, the foam peeling away to reveal smooth skin beneath.
Wei Hanyun lowered his lashes slightly, not even flinching as the blade passed.
Zhong Ziyan ran her fingers over the freshly shaved area—perfectly smooth. Clearly, she had a knack for this.
—Knives and blades? Definitely my specialty!
Confident now, she swiftly cleared the remaining foam with precise strokes, her movements even more efficient than Wei Hanyun’s own.
Though Zhong Ziyan was tall for a woman, she still stood a head shorter than Wei Hanyun. By the third stroke, she had unconsciously risen onto her tiptoes.
Wei Hanyun watched, amused, as her heels lifted off the ground. Deliberately, he tilted his chin up just a fraction.
Zhong Ziyan followed the motion, stretching higher, and scolded him sternly, "Stop moving. The blade is sharp."
Wei Hanyun bit his lower lip to suppress a laugh.
Morning routines didn’t take long. Wei Hanyun dressed first and headed downstairs, greeting Old Madam Yu before telling Wei Hanyan, "Let Ziyan pay for everything today."
Wei Hanyan blinked. "But we’re in Yandu. Shouldn’t we be treating her since she’s the guest?"
Wei Hanyun smiled. "But she enjoys paying."
Wei Hanyan: "Oh~"
Old Madam Yu joined in knowingly. "Oh~"
Wei Hanyun showed no trace of embarrassment, nodding at them before leaving. Fang Nan, waiting at the door, bowed to Old Madam Yu before following him out.
By the time Zhong Ziyan made it to the spacious living room, Wei Hanyun’s car was long gone.
"Good morning, Little Aunt! Have some breakfast first." Wei Hanyan eagerly recommended, "This is the signature golden cake made by our oldest chef. I’ve loved it since childhood—never get tired of it!"
Zhong Ziyan wasn’t particularly picky about food. She ate whatever was offered, making her the ideal audience for recommendations—the kind that made promoters adore her.
Midway through breakfast, Wei Ziqian strutted in, having swapped yesterday’s suit for an outfit that clattered with every step—a white T-shirt riddled with holes and jeans weighed down by multiple metal chains.
Old Madam Yu eyed her great-grandson with disdain. "You look like you just crawled home after being chased halfway across the country by debt collectors."
"Zhong Hui’s music isn’t this style," Wei Hanyan teased.
Zhong Ziyan paused mid-sip of soy milk.
"Great music transcends genres!" Wei Ziqian argued indignantly. "Zhong Hui could absolutely master rock if he wanted to! With his level of skill, he could make any genre incredible!"
Zhong Ziyan: "..." No, I really couldn’t.
The siblings bickered while Old Madam Yu watched fondly, clearly accustomed to the scene. Zhong Ziyan, meanwhile, focused on finishing her breakfast in peace.
It wasn’t until they were about to leave that Zhong Ziyan finally asked, "What exactly are we buying?"
"Grilling equipment," Wei Hanyan replied thoughtfully. "Little Uncle said your favorite food is roasted sweet potatoes, right? The organic farm delivered fresh ones this morning. We just need the tools to cook them."
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Wait, hold on. Wasn’t this logic a bit backward?
Buying specialized equipment just to roast a sweet potato that cost a few bucks at most?
"An oven won’t do," Old Madam Yu interjected seriously. "Too modern. It won’t have that traditional charred aroma."
Wei Hanyan: "Then maybe charcoal? With a grill, like a BBQ setup?"
Wei Ziqian groaned. "That’s not how you roast sweet potatoes! Haven’t you seen the street vendors? They use metal drums!"
Wei Hanyan turned to him, unashamedly asking for details. "What kind of metal drum? What’s the setup? How does it work?"
Wei Ziqian, whose knowledge was half-baked at best: "..." Damn, I actually don’t know.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." What a family utterly unfamiliar with common life!
But when she thought about it, she wasn’t entirely sure either—she only remembered the scene of her teammate handing her a roasted sweet potato.
So she stayed silent.
"We’ll figure it out at the mall. The staff there will know what to recommend," Old Madam Yu declared decisively.
At the word "mall," Zhong Ziyan’s ears perked up.
Sure enough, the limousine drove along the secondary highway toward Yandu’s outskirts, eventually stopping in front of a familiar red carpet and shopping center.
But unlike last time, the carpet was lined only with staff—no other cars or customers in sight.
Wei Ziqian stepped out of the car and promptly offered his arm to assist Old Madam Yu, leaving the nearby staff no chance to intervene. They simply smiled and greeted, "Welcome, Madam Yu."
Old Madam Yu nodded familiarly at the middle-aged man. "It's been a while. Have you gotten a bit tanner?"
The man grinned, revealing a set of impeccably white teeth that instantly put people at ease. "Just returned from a honeymoon in Bali. You’ve got a sharp eye."
"Honeymoons are wonderful, truly wonderful," Old Madam Yu mused before suddenly turning to Zhong Ziyan. "Yanyan, where did you and Wei Hanyun go for your honeymoon?"
Zhong Ziyan hadn’t given it any thought—in fact, she hadn’t even considered the idea of a honeymoon with Wei Hanyun. "Anywhere is fine," she replied.
If it was part of the job, then so be it.
After all, elves don’t get sunburned.
"What would you like to browse today?" the middle-aged man asked as he escorted Old Madam Yu inside. "We’ve arranged a private shopping session exclusively for you."
Aside from him, a few staff members wearing name tags followed discreetly in the background.
Zhong Ziyan had visited luxury malls before, but this was her first time witnessing a VIP shopping experience where the entire place was cleared for a single client.
No—this wasn’t just VIP. This was VVIP!
Old Madam Yu chuckled lightly, as if this were entirely routine. "No rush. We’re early anyway. Let’s take our time and see what’s new. I’d like to pick out something nice for my granddaughter-in-law."
Zhong Ziyan thought Old Madam Yu was being far too generous and quickly interjected before the elderly woman could impulsively sign another hefty bill. "Charge it to my…" She nearly said "husband’s account" but caught herself mid-sentence and smoothly corrected, "Charge it to my husband’s account."
