The CEO's Substitute Ex-Wife
Chapter 223: A New Year’s Tiff

Chapter 223: A New Year’s Tiff

Lin Ning: "...Ye Second is truly pitiful."

Wen Nuan pursed her lips. The A City Film Critics Award, the Golden Chapter Award, and the University Student Film Festival were in February, March, and April. The A City International Film Festival was in June, so it was still early. She didn’t care much about winning these awards. After all, her qualifications were still shallow; even a consolation prize would be quite good.

She didn’t pay much attention to this.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps upstairs. Wen Nuan frowned, hearing someone walk down. Soon after, the door opened, and Young Master Ye Second walked in. Their gazes met. His eyes were as dark as ink, bottomless. They stared at each other, then looked away, neither willing to show weakness.

On the first day of the New Year, the atmosphere between them was somber, like the weather in early January.

Wen Nuan closed her computer and got into bed.

Ye Feimo left the bedroom. Wen Nuan pouted her lips. Dating a moody man truly takes a toll on you.

A short while later, there was a crashing sound from the living room, like something shattering. Wen Nuan suddenly got up from bed and rushed out to see. It wasn’t the living room; it was the kitchen. Ye Feimo had broken a plate, and something was burning in a pot. He bent down to pick up the fragments. Wen Nuan angrily said, "What are you doing?"

Ye Feimo was picking up fragments. Startled by her shout, his hand paused and instinctively tightened. A piece of ceramic pierced his palm, and blood immediately flowed. Wen Nuan’s pupils contracted. She rushed over, pulled Ye Feimo up, "What in the world are you doing in the middle of the night?"

Seeing his palm cut by the ceramic piece, Wen Nuan was both angry and heartbroken. She carefully picked out the fragments and threw them into the trash can. She turned off the stove, pushed Ye Feimo out, and hurriedly found the medicine box.

Wen Nuan’s face was expressionless, but her movements were very gentle, as if she were afraid of him.

Ye Feimo also looked at her expressionlessly. Wen Nuan, wearing her pajamas, had her long hair falling over her chest, her head bowed as she cleaned his wound. He couldn’t see her expression. Thinking of her angry expression just now, he frowned. _{fre eweb\(n)ovel(.)co(m)}

Neither of them spoke. Wen Nuan cleaned the wound, disinfected it, applied medicine, and then bandaged it. She looked up and glared fiercely at Ye Feimo. Idiot, he couldn’t even hold a plate properly.

He must have done it on purpose. A trick to gain sympathy, it must be a trick. She didn’t need to pay attention to him.

She noticed Ye Feimo’s hand was still covering his stomach. Wen Nuan’s eyes narrowed slightly, feeling a little pain. She hastily dropped the medicine box, stood up, glared at him furiously, then went to the kitchen. Ye Feimo was down below.

Idiot, he was hungry but didn’t say anything, just fiddling around. She had never seen Ye Feimo in the kitchen, and he immediately made a commotion.

Sweeping the broken pieces off the floor, Wen Nuan resignedly cooked him noodles.

"I want spaghetti," Ye Feimo ordered, his face unchanging, as if it were perfectly reasonable. Wen Nuan took the cleaver and savagely chopped at the cutting board, her anger flaring.

Eating spaghetti in the middle of the night? He’d be lucky to get some bones to gnaw on.

Ye Feimo was startled. This woman was quite bloodthirsty in the middle of the night. That movement, from the perspective of chopping a person, was very standard.

She was truly destined to be a nanny. Why should she cook for him? Let him starve to death.

But she also knew Ye Feimo couldn’t go hungry. This guy was very stubborn. If he was truly using a trick to gain sympathy, she simply couldn’t stop him.

She chopped some vegetables and shredded meat. Wen Nuan cooked him vegetable and shredded pork noodles. Spaghetti would take too long in the middle of the night. She should have just cooked him plain noodles, with nothing but salt, and served it to him, letting him complain then.

Finally, Wen Nuan thought about it and added an egg. It was better to have it more nutritious.

After cooking, Wen Nuan brought it out.

Ye Feimo glanced at it, then raised his eyes to Wen Nuan with an expressionless face. "I said spaghetti..."

"Eat it or I’ll dump it in the toilet," Wen Nuan snapped angrily.

Ye Feimo decisively said, "I’ll eat!"

Good that you know your place.

His left hand was cut, but his right hand was still usable, with no hindrance. Wen Nuan sat opposite him, watching him. She had been hungry herself earlier and had intended to cook noodles, but ended up pitifully drinking a glass of milk and a glass of cucumber juice. Yet he was eating a large bowl of steaming hot noodles, which looked very delicious.

Out of sight, out of mind. Wen Nuan prepared to get up and leave. Ye Feimo looked at her. "You’ll do the dishes later."

That meant, "Don’t leave yet."

Wen Nuan was furious. Cook noodles for him, serve him until he’s full and satisfied, and then wash the dishes? This life was unbearable. If it were during the day, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but in the middle of the night...

It was one in the morning. She would usually be sound asleep by now. Who would want to stand around like a tragedy queen waiting for him to finish eating and wash dishes?

"Can’t you wash them yourself after you eat?"

"Didn’t you take care of all the chores?" Young Master Ye Second said expressionlessly, pulling out their agreement. Wen Nuan choked with anger, furiously kicked the sofa a few times, then sat down again. If she hadn’t seen him so pitifully clutching his stomach in the middle of the night, cooking noodles, breaking a plate, and getting cut, she wouldn’t have pitied him and gotten herself involved.

Truly outrageous.

Ye Feimo ate exceptionally slowly, and exceptionally deliciously. Perhaps he was hungry, which made the food taste especially good, making Wen Nuan’s mouth water.

"Always eating in the middle of the night, be careful not to get fat," Wen Nuan said, pursing her lips. He had a bad stomach but didn’t eat on time. Some people just deserved it. Ye Feimo ate quite a lot all day long, so how come he never gained weight?

Ye Feimo ate his noodles with relish, ignoring Wen Nuan’s complaints.

Wen Nuan looked at his hand. The cut wasn’t very deep, but a bandage would probably be unsuitable for the wedding tomorrow. Would he have to wear gloves?

Moreover, he was a groomsman, which would be very unlucky.

But he seemed oblivious, finishing his noodles and pushing the bowl aside. Wen Nuan took it to wash. She was too competent a nanny; she almost bathed him too.

After washing the dishes, Ye Feimo was no longer in the living room. Wen Nuan pouted. He ate and then left without a word. Did he have to be so outrageous? She turned off the lights and went into the bedroom, thinking he had gone upstairs, only to find he had already changed into his pajamas and was lying in bed, lazily yawning—a classic "eat and sleep" type.

"Go upstairs and sleep," Wen Nuan said coldly. They were in a cold war, was it appropriate to sleep together? There was no cold war atmosphere at all. Miss Wen apparently forgot that she had just cooked him noodles and washed his dishes, so there wasn’t much of a cold war atmosphere to begin with.

Ye Feimo ignored her, not even bothering to glance at her. Wen Nuan glumly got into bed.

Every time they argued, he used this tactic: silent treatment, a few days of cold war, then he’d use a trick to gain sympathy to force her to comply. Ye Feimo, in your eyes, am I really that foolish, that easily coaxed? You shed two drops of blood, feign pitifulness, and act as if nothing happened. You’re far too naive.