Sweet slice-of-life love story: Wife, Let's love again
Chapter 391 - 381: Men Can’t Take Care of Babies

He had no idea where it had fallen.

Half a year after finishing his comics, he hadn’t picked up a pen again, spending all his days either playing with his daughter at home or going out for strolls. The rocking car in front of the supermarket was almost monopolized by Anya—they couldn’t figure out why kids loved it so much.

He even tried to get a feel for it himself—there was no special meaning to it; he just wanted to understand his daughter’s enjoyment. But the moment he sat on it, it creaked alarmingly, spooking Qin Guanglin into jumping right off. Thank goodness he hadn’t fully sat down.

Otherwise, a man in his thirties breaking a supermarket rocking chair could very well make the news.

Truly a sin.

"Dad’s dad is Grandpa, Dad’s mom is Grandma~"

Under the blazing sun and the sweltering heatwave, Qin Guanglin couldn’t out-argue his daughter. He got dragged downstairs to ride on the coin-operated chair, while he stood beside her shooting a little video.

He found He Fang and sent the video.

"Your daughter is addicted to this."

He Fang was at school monitoring an exam. As a proctor, her job was to simply hold a cup of tea and sit at the podium, casting sharp glances around the room—at least, they were sharp to the students.

Pulling out her phone, she looked at Qin Guanglin’s message and smirked, typing vigorously.

"Your daughter."

The classroom had no air conditioning, just a few creaky ceiling fans stirring the hot air. The top students, dripping with sweat, scribbled furiously on their papers, while the less academically inclined ones only rubbed their sweaty foreheads and looked for an opportunity to sneak peeks, stretching their necks towards He Fang’s phone.

Snap!

A piece of chalk landed precisely on the desk of one of those neck-stretching students. He Fang put her phone down with a stern face, and that student immediately played it cool.

"Picture.jpg"

"Do you want some ice cream? I’ll bring it over after your class."

Another message from Qin Guanglin came in, which He Fang considered rejecting before resuming her chalk-throwing.

...

Qin Guanglin, enjoying his ice cream, put away his phone—if she didn’t want it in this heat, he wasn’t keen on delivering it.

Another bite, and suddenly he felt a stare burning into him. He looked down to find Anya, with saliva almost dripping.

"This is ’poop’, oh yuck, it stinks so bad," Qin Guanglin dramatized a grotesque expression, grimacing and acting with Anya.

A four-year-old’s stomach isn’t fully developed; even in this heat, it wasn’t good for her.

"So why do you eat it all the time?" Anya wasn’t so easily fooled. Blinking her eyes, she stared at the ice cream in his hand, suddenly finding the rocking chair less interesting.

"Because you like to ride this, for every happy time you have here, dad has to eat ’poop’ once, oh so stinky."

This reasoning was flawless. Escaping the cool air at home to suffer in the heat justified an ice cream to cool off.

With a frown, Qin Guanglin happily munched on, deceiving Anya and then turning away to continue.

Perhaps he should consider buying one for her to play at home... but that would be too noisy, and who knows if it would still be fun if it were silent.

"Daddy, I want to eat ’poop’ too."

After much internal struggle, Anya couldn’t resist and drooling, asked to share.

"..."

"I’ll just have a tiny taste, okay?"

"...What did you say you wanted to eat?"

Qin Guanglin’s eyes darted around, and he took out his phone to start recording another small video.

Buzz...

He Fang’s phone vibrated in her pocket, she took it out, turned down the volume, and checked the message from Qin Guanglin. Inside, her daughter was loudly proclaiming how delicious ’poop’ was, and she was left speechless.

Men really aren’t cut out for child-rearing.

...

In front of the supermarket.

"Okay, no more eating."

Qin Guanglin carefully peeled off the outer layer of chocolate for his daughter, let her taste a few bites, and wiped her mouth as his phone started ringing.

He thought it was He Fang calling but, glancing at the screen, he noticed a string of unfamiliar numbers that somehow looked familiar.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Qin, this is Penguin Kuai Man. We’ve been in touch before..."

They indeed had been in touch; during the two months after his comic concluded, they had called several times wanting to meet up, but Qin Guanglin had politely declined each time.

This time was no different. After a brief, polite conversation, Qin Guanglin hung up and fell into deep thought.

Logically speaking, such a large platform already collaborated with well-known industry figures; they shouldn’t be so enthusiastic about him, a moderately known artist, let alone calling repeatedly.

Once or twice might be fine, but this persistent? Qin Guanglin admitted he wasn’t worthy of such attention—not even if his fame increased significantly.

Clearly, there was an issue.

Turning back to refill his daughter Anya’s rocking ride, he looked off into the distance to think and then dialed Chen Rui’s number to briefly explain the situation.

There was a long silence on the other end.

"They’re gearing up for something big," Chen Rui said.

"What?"

"In the past half year, they’ve acquired several small companies. Platforms of our size are rare now, and the famous ones have all become part of the Penguin network."

Qin Guanglin was silent. Although he didn’t fully grasp the intricacies, he understood the obvious implications.

After a merger, market expansion follows, and when a behemoth expands, it inevitably encroaches on the space of other companies.

"Is the situation really that tense?"

"It’s even more tense than you think," Chen Rui said with a wry smile. "We’re different from others. They might collaborate with them, but we can only confront them head-on."

"So..."

Qin Guanglin somewhat understood; Chen Rui knew they had to confront them, which meant they knew it too.

The host’s interest is not in the cup.

Indeed, Chen Rui’s following words confirmed his suspicion, "They’re not aiming to poach you, but to undermine the foundations of our company..."

As long as Qin Guanglin and a few others left, regardless of whether they produced any work or if the works became popular afterward, that wasn’t important. In other words, even having Qin Guanglin just idle around would suffice.

Where Qin Guanglin worked didn’t matter; as long as he left Chen Rui’s company, their goal was accomplished.

"I knew it; a semi-popular artist like me isn’t worth their repeated calls," he realized, shaking his head, almost getting carried away.

"To them, you’re lukewarm, but to me, you’re a flagship artist."

"What about Yu Le then? His western fantasy comic exploded in popularity, even looks like it might surpass ’Wife’ at its peak."

"Luck, and a lot of original fans. Mainly riding on the original work’s popularity. He himself doesn’t have many followers, unlike you," Chen Rui sighed. "Original work is key; we have many stories left from when copyrights were cheap. We don’t lack good stories; we lack authors with charisma like you."

Qin Guanglin shrugged, glancing at his daughter giggling, "I’d say just give in and let them acquire us. You could stay home as a full-time artist, find someone to marry, have a daughter, and sit with her on the rocking chair. That’d be nice."

"I’m forty already; marry my ass."

"Hey, don’t say that. Didn’t some expert say that nowadays, the best scenario is a woman in her twenties marrying a man in his forties, and men in their twenties working till they’re forty and then marrying a twenty-year-old woman, hahaha..." Qin Guanglin laughed. "With your wealth and talent, you’d be a popular catch, marrying a twenty-year-old would be sweet."

"Bullshit..."

Chen Rui clicked his tongue, "Wait till I’m forty-nine, I’ll marry someone twenty-nine."

"By forty-nine, you’d practically be grandfather-aged."