◎What’s So Funny About Chasing a Wife (Part 2)◎
The two little ones didn’t understand at all: “Huh?”
The system that did understand: “Huh?”
Had this guy really blackened to this extent already?
The word “crazy” might be an insult to others, but for Jiang Suizhi, it was just a statement of fact—one he accepted readily.
As long as he could find Le Qing and confirm she was still here, nothing else mattered.
“You like that?” He nodded. “Then I can be crazy too.”
Le Qing: “???”
She hurriedly snatched her phone back, afraid the kids might hear something they shouldn’t.
“What’s a stepdad?”
Clearly, the nursery rhymes the kids had learned so far hadn’t covered this—it was advanced material.
“I know.” An’an said sagely, “Uncle means… monkey! He promised not to bully Auntie.”
“Who said I promi—”
Le Qing immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him in exasperation. “Shut up, stop talking nonsense!”
Then she quickly explained to the kids, “Uncle didn’t hit Auntie. You two go to sleep now, he’s fine.”
“But Uncle is a chicken,” Little Le Jia said seriously. “We have to teach him how to treat girls. You have to coax them, like how I coax my little sister—tell stories, give candy.”
Hearing this, Jiang Suizhi’s brow lifted slightly, his gaze turning meaningful as he stared at the woman in front of him.
Le Qing’s scalp prickled. What on earth did Jiang Suizhi’s father tell these kids?!
“Alright, alright, Uncle’s learned his lesson. If anyone doesn’t go to sleep now, I won’t bring back any gifts.”
This was the final warning. The two little ones, already exhausted from staying up late, immediately snuggled under the covers obediently. “Goodnight, Auntie! Goodnight, Uncle!”
Finally hanging up, Le Qing motioned for Jiang Suizhi to look at her wrist. “Couldn’t you have let go first before talking?”
“No.” Jiang Suizhi only tightened his grip, his palm so warm it was sweating. “If you run away again, where would I find you?”
His voice dropped on that last sentence, tinged with something almost like… hurt.
Le Qing was baffled. “I didn’t run away. Why would I run? Didn’t I text you?”
“Sent the kids away, packed your luggage, ignored calls, even returned gifts—if that’s not running, then what is?” Jiang Suizhi scoffed. “What would count as running?”
“Sending the kids away was unavoidable. I had no right or reason to take them from their family. Packing up was because the house wasn’t mine to begin with, so I couldn’t stay…” Le Qing suddenly realized something. “Didn’t Uncle Jiang explain the situation to you?”
“Explain what?”
His tone suggested he’d rather drag the man back and break his legs on the spot.
“Uncle Jiang investigated me.” Le Qing sighed, though by now she’d come to terms with her identity—even felt a faint flicker of pride about it. “So I’m not actually—”
“Investigated?” Jiang Suizhi’s grip on her wrist tightened further. “I’ll settle that with him later.”
“No, that’s not—” Le Qing was lost. “What does that have to do with him?”
“You know it has nothing to do with him?” Jiang Suizhi leaned down, his breath hot against her face as he murmured, “This is between us. If you’re unhappy about anything, just tell me. Don’t disappear where I can’t find you.”
His eyes were bloodshot, like a cornered beast struggling between fury and helplessness. He bit out, voice strained: “Can’t I just wait for you to forget him?”
Afraid he might lunge at her, Le Qing pressed her free hand against his chest to hold him back.
The moment her fingers touched him, Jiang Suizhi shuddered, his lashes fluttering as his breathing grew rougher.
“…”
Right. He’s sick.
For a second, Le Qing wasn’t sure whether to pull her hand away—somehow, leaving it there felt even weirder. Stiffly, she asked, “Who exactly do you want me to forget?”
“Jiang Yan.”
“Why would I forget him?” Le Qing was utterly confused. “I don’t even know him.”
“You—” Jiang Suizhi’s frown deepened, his words cutting off abruptly. His bloodshot eyes flickered with bewilderment. “What did you say?”
“Your brother,” Le Qing said. “Didn’t he pass away? I’ve never met him.”
“You’ve never met him?”
Jiang Suizhi lifted his other hand to feel Le Qing’s forehead, as if checking for a fever—or wondering if she’d lost her mind.
He muttered to himself, “How could you not have met him…?”
“Of course I haven’t. By the time I took in the kids, he was already gone. And back then, I didn’t even know who their father was. When you showed up, I thought you were him.”
Dazed, Jiang Suizhi blurted, “I wish.”
“?” Le Qing’s brain short-circuited. “…You want to be their stepdad? But you shouldn’t be looking at me—I’m not related to the kids.”
“You… what?”
The usually unshakable, domineering CEO—who’d charged into a foreign town to hunt her down without hesitation—now stared at her with the blank confusion of a man who’d just been hit by a truck. “What do you mean ‘not related’? Aren’t you Le Qing?”
“I am Le Qing.”
“Aren’t you their mother?”
“I—” Le Qing’s eyes widened. “No! From the start, the kids have called me Auntie. Can’t you hear them?”
Jiang Suizhi’s grip slackened instantly. He looked like he’d been struck by lightning—repeatedly—from the inside out. His hair might as well have been standing on end.
“You’re not.” He braced himself against the wall, head pounding as if he’d overdosed on medication. Maybe I really have gone mad. Why else can’t I understand basic Chinese?
“If not you… then who?”
Just then, a soft knock came from the glass door behind them. Annie, freshly showered, leaned against the frame with an amused smile. “Pardon the interruption. Need some help?”
“Well,” Le Qing scratched her head, gesturing to Annie behind her, “She might be the kids’ mother.”
Jiang Suizhi: ?
His overloaded brain finally gave up. For the first time in his life, the mighty CEO wanted nothing more than to escape reality.
Meanwhile, Le Qing cautiously eyed Jiang Suizhi, who seemed on the verge of a breakdown. “So, if you do want to be their stepdad, the person you should be talking to is…”
Before she could finish, a heavy weight slumped against her—Jiang Suizhi, unable to stand any longer, collapsed onto her.
Thankfully, Le Qing’s reflexes were sharp. She caught him just in time. “Jiang Suizhi!”
His forehead was burning, his usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. Eyes shut, he looked utterly wrecked by fever.
Was the shock really that bad?
Expression torn, Le Qing patted his head, half-tempted to crack it open and see what was inside. Does he have extra brain folds or something? How else could he come up with such wild delusions?
—
Sleep was out of the question now. Le Qing had no choice but to call the bodyguards stationed nearby to help carry Jiang Suizhi to the hospital.
Fortunately, it was just a fever with no other complications.
Yet even after receiving IV fluids at the hospital, Jiang Suizhi still hadn’t woken up, so Le Qing had no choice but to bring him back to the homestay.
She couldn’t let a sick person sleep on the small sofa, especially someone as tall as Jiang Suizhi, so she placed him on her own bed again.
How could he sleep so much?
"Let me guess," Annie said lazily from her seat by the window, watching the scene unfold. "If he’s been searching for you from the moment you returned to the country up until today, including the time on the flight, he’s probably gone days without sleep."
Le Qing: "..."
She couldn’t hold back: "Is he an idiot?"
Annie propped her chin on her hand. "So, what’s the story here?"
The two had been speaking entirely in Chinese. Though Annie had brushed up on her basics through memory, she couldn’t fully understand.
Le Qing had no choice but to summarize the situation in a few words.
Unsurprisingly, even Annie fell silent.
After a long pause, a barely suppressed laugh escaped her lips. "So you’re saying he thought you were the child’s mother, unable to forget the father, and that you ran away with your luggage to avoid his pursuit?"
Le Qing: "Something like that, maybe?"
"In that case, I don’t approve of your relationship," Annie huffed. "He’s too stupid."
Le Qing didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—what kind of logic was this?
But as her laughter faded, an indescribable complexity settled in her chest.
If Jiang Suizhi had believed this from the very beginning, what had been going through his mind all this time, right up until he found this homestay?
Going days without sleep—how could anyone be so single-minded?
Annie was right. He really was a bit of a fool.
Her gaze drifted back to the man on the bed. This was the first time she’d seen Jiang Suizhi asleep—without the deliberate composure of his glasses or the sharpness in his eyes. His hair was disheveled, his face slightly pale. If the children saw their great hero in such a state, they’d surely cry.
Le Qing sighed again, then noticed the man’s fingers twitch slightly.
"Jiang Suizhi?" she called tentatively.
No response.
After a few seconds of silence, she suddenly turned to Annie. "This isn’t working. Maybe I should call Uncle Jiang and have someone pick him up. Secretary Chen must still be in the UK."
The moment the words left her mouth, the hands in her line of sight moved again.
Le Qing: "..."
Then she watched as the man on the bed slowly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling.
She walked over. "Awake?"
Jiang Suizhi closed his eyes again, voice weak. "My brain’s still dead."
This time, Le Qing couldn’t hold back. She covered her forehead, laughter bubbling out uncontrollably. She simply couldn’t reconcile the image of Jiang Suizhi with someone who’d do something so ridiculous—even trying to fake sleep.
Jiang Suizhi truly wished he could keep pretending. Especially when Annie recited his past blunders like a list of crimes, he felt his life might as well be over.
This was worse than being thrown into a trash can.
How was he supposed to face Le Qing after this? He hadn’t even won her over yet.
When will you forget him…
Forget… him…
All for a shameless goal—wearing pretentious glasses, forcing a gentle tone and gaze…
Stepfather…
Hell, he’d even planned how many kowtows he’d offer at Jiang Yan’s grave in the future.
At this thought, President Jiang’s heart grew numb once more.
"I’ll leave you two to talk," Annie said, standing. She knew when to make herself scarce. "I’m going to rest."
At the door, she paused and glanced back at Le Qing. "I’ll leave the room unlocked. Remember to come back, or else—"
Her gaze shifted to Jiang Suizhi on the bed, lips curving into a smile. "I won’t let you off easy."
Jiang Suizhi: "..."
Once she was gone, silence reclaimed the room. Jiang Suizhi lay there, drowning in embarrassment, until Le Qing moved to pour a glass of water. Only then did he regain enough sense to sit up.
Le Qing handed him the water. "Go ahead. If there are any other misunderstandings, say them now."
Jiang Suizhi clutched the cup like a scolded child, eyes downcast. "None."
He’d never misunderstood anything about Le Qing—except for the whole "sister-in-law" thing.
"I couldn’t find anything," he rasped. "She was Le Qing, you were Le Qing. There were no traces of the past."
Of course there weren’t. The only records led to the children’s mother.
The original culprit had changed her name and undergone plastic surgery, appearing out of thin air. How could anyone trace that?
"I thought Uncle Jiang would’ve told you," Le Qing said gently, repeating the explanation she’d given Uncle Jiang. "That day, he showed me the old records. I’m not actually the children’s aunt, so I had no right to keep them. That’s why I returned them to your family."
But Jiang Suizhi wasn’t as easily convinced as Uncle Jiang. He knew exactly how much Le Qing cherished those children. Even if she’d claimed to be their birth mother, he’d have believed her—they were her entire world.
According to Lin Shengxi and Lin Jian, the old Le Qing hadn’t been a good person. But her transformation had begun last winter.
In just a short time, she’d sold all her luxury items to give the children a better life, pouring every penny she earned into their well-being. Someone forced to take the blame wouldn’t have gone so far.
Jiang Suizhi’s muddled mind finally cleared, his gaze locking onto her. "Even so, what does that have to do with you leaving? Why return my gifts?"
Le Qing looked up, meeting his darkened eyes.
Though she’d never imagined anything happening between them, she couldn’t deny the warmth in her chest upon learning how much effort Jiang Suizhi had expended to find her—and the weight he’d carried.
So few people had ever cared for her in this life. Yet now, she kept meeting them one after another.
Faced with such sincere, unguarded emotion, she couldn’t bring herself to deceive or betray it. Honesty was the greatest respect she could offer him.
After a long pause, Le Qing exhaled almost imperceptibly. "It’s… complicated."
She omitted the part about transmigrating into a novel, focusing instead on the likelihood that she and Annie were both double-reincarnated. She paused intermittently, gauging Jiang Suizhi’s reaction.
In doing so, she handed him her vulnerabilities too.
They were even now.
Le Qing had imagined countless ways Jiang Suizhi might react to the truth. But she never expected silence—him sitting there, unmoving, for what felt like an eternity.
So long that she grew uneasy, desperate to escape the suffocating tension.
Just as she made to stand, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly.
Startled, she looked up.
"From age five to twenty-four," he asked, "where were you?"
Le Qing froze.
"No friends, no family." Jiang Suizhi stared intently at her. Even now, he hadn’t touched the glass of water, so his voice was hoarse, barely audible unless one listened carefully. "Crying over a broken bracelet, reluctant to buy new clothes, tiptoeing around every new friendship, trembling at the kindness of elders."
He finally let out a soft breath. "Where have you been all this time?"
Le Qing gazed at him blankly, her eyes unexpectedly welling up with tears.
All these years, she had endured. It was fine if no one treated her well—survival was enough. She never felt too aggrieved because she believed she had no right to. Just staying alive required immense effort.
But she had never imagined someone would notice every little thing she did, that someone would care so deeply.
Only when someone blows on a wound does it start to hurt.
She shook her head lightly. "I don’t know."
Because she had never felt any sense of belonging to that world—not even to herself. She had never considered this world important.
Even after arriving here, it was the same. That was why she had been so terrified and panicked upon learning the truth.
Even though everything was now clear.
Yet Jiang Suizhi’s heart ached unbearably. The person he had poured his heart into protecting had suffered so much in places no one knew about, and even now, she remained so cautious.
His hand trembled again as he held Le Qing’s, sliding down to her pulse point. Only when he felt the faint throb there did he speak in a voice roughened by emotion. "I’m sorry."
But even so, he couldn’t let go. No—he couldn’t bring himself to.
Because he feared that if he released her, she might vanish at any moment.
Noticing his breathing growing uneven, Le Qing asked hurriedly, "Are you having another episode?"
"Can I… hold you?"
Not "hold me," but "let me hold you."
Le Qing remained still, leaning slightly forward. She wasn’t sure anymore whether she was treating Jiang Suizhi’s condition or if there was another reason.
Avoiding his scorching gaze, she said, "You should take some medicine first. Where are your pills?"
"It’s not the medicine. I just want to hold you."
Such bluntness left Le Qing flustered. She tugged at her hand, still gripped in his. "Jiang Suizhi, I’ve never had any other thoughts about you."
After a pause, she added, "Even without your brother in the picture."
Jiang Suizhi chuckled, his thick skin now immune to his own past foolishness. "Then it’s even simpler."
"You’re Le Qing, and I’m Jiang Suizhi," he said. "I’ll start from the beginning and win you over, bit by bit."
"But I—"
"Liking someone isn’t something you can just stop on command," Jiang Suizhi interrupted, coughing lightly. "That would make it too cheap."
"You keep moving forward," he continued, meeting her eyes again. Gone was the deliberate calm and gentleness of the past—now, even illness couldn’t mask the deep obsession in his dark gaze. "I’ll chase after you. Whether I catch up or not is my problem. Is that fair?"
Le Qing had no experience with romance, yet Jiang Suizhi’s words somehow made sense.
"This shouldn’t be your burden to bear," he pressed, noticing her hesitation. Suppressing a smile, he added, "You just need to think about how to reject me—or how to accept me."
"Le Qing." His feverish fingertips pressed against her slender wrist, lingering on the beauty mark he had long coveted. "I won’t stand in your way, but I’ll walk with you."
Struck by his words, Le Qing’s fingers twitched involuntarily, as if his warmth had seeped into her through their touch.
Only then did she realize how long he had been holding her hand. She pulled back abruptly.
Jiang Suizhi’s fingertips grazed her palm, sending a shiver down her spine.
"You…" Le Qing stammered, flustered. "I won’t treat your condition anymore."
Jiang Suizhi pondered for half a second. "That might not be possible."
"?" Le Qing blinked. "Why?"
The big-tailed wolf handed her his phone with unflinching honesty, displaying his chat history with his therapist. "Only you. No one else works."
Le Qing skimmed through, feeling like she had been forced to witness Jiang Suizhi’s entire self-convincing journey.
Who falls for someone and needs a therapist to sort it out?!
She tossed his phone back like a hot potato. "At the very least, you need my consent. You can’t just… do whatever you want."
"Do what?"
Le Qing could only glare at him.
Jiang Suizhi finally relaxed his shoulders, realizing the situation wasn’t as dire as he’d thought. She clearly didn’t know how to reject people properly.
Not that he’d listen to a rejection anyway.
"Your call," he conceded smoothly, having learned a thing or two about coaxing girls—whether it was genuine comfort or sweet deception depended entirely on him.
He pressed a hand to his chest and murmured, "Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was anxious. Ran out of medicine and couldn’t control myself."
Le Qing had seen his pillbox before—there was no way he’d finished that entire stash.
But Jiang Suizhi actually produced the empty container, its cap visibly crushed.
"..."
He lowered his eyes, closing his palm. "Did I scare you?"
"A fever is too lenient on you." Unable to stay angry, Le Qing handed him the untouched glass of water. "Drink this and rest."
This time, Jiang Suizhi obediently drained the glass, only to fix her with an intense stare afterward.
Le Qing shifted uncomfortably. "What?"
"I’m a little hungry. Got anything to eat?" he asked. "Even those biscuits you made would do."
"???"
Le Qing’s eyes widened. He even remembered her homemade biscuits.
He must really be starving.
Did he mistake those pills for food?
"It’s too late," Jiang Suizhi said, throwing off the blanket and getting up. "You rest. I’ll go out and find something."
Le Qing pushed him back down. "Stay put."
With that, she turned and left the room.
Alone in the quiet room, Jiang Suizhi sat silently for a moment, staring at the doorway where she’d disappeared before letting out a short, soft laugh.
By now, it was long past mealtime in the early-retiring town. After negotiating with the innkeeper, Le Qing whipped up a simple hot meal for Jiang Suizhi in the kitchen.
When she turned around with a bowl of noodles, she found Jiang Suizhi already downstairs, still in his thin clothes, leaning against the doorframe and watching her with unwavering focus.
She set the noodles on the dining table. "I told you to stay in bed."
"Felt awful," Jiang Suizhi said, trailing after her like a loyal dog. "Wanted to touch—"
Catching her warning look, he quickly corrected himself. "Wanted to see you."
Le Qing made a mental note to stock him up on extra medicine so he’d have no excuses. She gestured pointedly. "Sit. Eat."
"Okay."
Though there was a hint of deception in it, Jiang Suizhi hadn’t had a proper meal in days. As the warm soup slid down his throat, he let out a soft sigh.
Even if it was embarrassing, it was worth it.
Le Qing couldn’t possibly leave a sick man sitting there alone. She poured herself a glass of milk and sat across from Jiang Suizhi, watching him eat with such focus that she couldn’t help but recall the words he’d spoken earlier in the room.
As she mulled it over, something suddenly felt off.
She frowned slightly. "How did you know I was here?"
Jiang Suizhi paused mid-slurp of his noodles.
"And," Le Qing set down her milk glass, fixing him with a direct stare, "how did you know I couldn’t bring myself to buy new clothes?"
Jiang Suizhi buried his face in the bowl and drank half the soup in silence.
When no answer came, Le Qing began piecing together the clues—why Chelles and Nora always commented on her wearing designer brands.
She pulled out her phone, opened the chat with "Wholesale Jiang," and tapped the voice call button.
Two seconds later, the pocket of the man across from her vibrated.
The glaring red background of the avatar "Cheap Finds at My Place" stood out conspicuously.
Le Qing stared at the display name "AAAAA Wholesale Jiang," her eyebrow twitching as she fought between laughter and sheer disbelief.
"Jiang?"
"Mm." Having already endured greater humiliation, Wholesale Jiang was beyond caring. "Our conglomerate is like this—diversified business operations."
"Including wholesale?"
"Precision-targeted customer service." Jiang Suizhi lifted his gaze to meet hers, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It used to be for you and the kids. Now it’s just for you."
"..."
Le Qing wasn’t angry. After all, she was the one benefiting from this—why would she be?
Especially when she thought of how Jiang Suizhi had racked his brains during the New Year just to get her new clothes, or how he’d Photoshopped fake promotions nonstop to coax her into buying medicine and essentials. The thought made her heart soften.
"Don’t your friends laugh at you?" she asked.
"Chasing after my wife—what’s there to laugh at?" Wholesale Jiang declared, utterly shameless. "The ones without wives are the real jokes."
He’d already been dumped in a trash bin—why fuss over an avatar?
Did he want his wife or not?
As long as no one accused him of being a grumpy middle-aged wholesaler, he could live with it.
Le Qing gritted her teeth, deciding never to broach this topic with him again.
She held out her hand. "So, what did I leave at home?"
Originally, she’d meant to put Jiang Suizhi on the spot and salvage some dignity.
But to her surprise, he actually set down his fork, rummaged in his pocket for a moment, and pulled out a familiar box.
Le Qing froze.
This time, Jiang Suizhi didn’t simply hand her the box. Instead, he opened it, revealing a gem-studded bracelet inside.
No need to guess—his earlier claim about it being a discounted brand sample had also been a lie.
The warmth of his fingers and the cool touch of the bracelet brushed against her wrist as Le Qing watched the gems glimmer faintly under the light.
Jiang Suizhi fastened the clasp slowly, cradling the back of her hand in his palm, his gaze darkening as his throat moved slightly.
"I’ve wanted to see you wear this for a long time."
His eyes trailed up from her wrist until they finally met hers.
"Just as I thought—it’s beautiful."
