Pampered by Short-Lived Bigshot

Chapter 253: 181 Jiangjiang: Women are so troublesome, lending you a shoulder to lean on (3 more updates)

Shen Zhixian stared intently at Jiangjiang, but the typically bold little guy was intimidated, clinging tightly to Jiang Yanting’s pants and still not daring to come closer, not even daring to look at her directly.

The closer he got, the more timid he felt.

“Go on,” Jiang Yanting patted his little head.

It was then that Jiangjiang took small, tentative steps, stared at the flower wreath, and slowly moved toward her. He couldn’t bring himself to call her “mom,” instead simply thrusting the cake in his hand forward, somewhat imperiously.

Even then, Shen Zhixian couldn’t be sure whose child he really was, since the incident of losing a child was so deeply ingrained in her mind.

Just the word “mom” alone made her heart ache so much that she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

Jiangjiang really didn’t know how to get close to her; seeing her cry left him somewhat at a loss. He glanced at Jiang Yanting, who remained silent, then Jiangjiang softly asked, “What’s wrong?”

Shen Zhixian looked at him, thinking that if he were still alive, he would have been about the same age…

She wanted to touch the child, her hands trembling, not daring to move forward.

Meanwhile, the locksmith quickly arrived, called Jiang Yanting from downstairs, and Shen Zhixian hurriedly got up, frantically wiped her tears, unsteady on her feet, almost tripping.

Jiangjiang was close by and instinctively reached out to grab her hand.

“Thank you,” Shen Zhixian stared at the tightening grip between them.

His hand was very small, chubby, and sweaty, hot to the touch.

“My hands are sweaty,” Jiangjiang muttered, biting his lip and looking at her, eyes slightly red, but he kept a firm hold on her hand, refusing to let go.

Shen Zhixian hesitated, then gently grasped his hand in return, feeling as if the missing piece of her heart was suddenly filled…

Completely full.

**

The locksmith arrived, seeing the three of them standing together and naturally assumed they were a family.

But with both wife and child with tearful eyes, and the child’s face bruised, he observed the lock and selected his tools while assessing the three of them.

After a while, he looked at Jiang Yanting, “Anyone who lays hands on children and women is scum, not a real man!”

Jiang Yanting remained silent, thinking:

Yo—this man really knows how to play dead!

Then he looked at Shen Zhixian, “If you face domestic abuse, you should call the police early and file for divorce directly. A man who can strike once will naturally do it again; don’t expect him to change!”

Shen Zhixian paused, knowing he misunderstood, and quickly explained, “It’s not what you think; we’re not…”

The lock was quickly opened, the locksmith took his fee and left, but not without reminding Shen Zhixian, “Do you want me to help you call the police? Men who hit women are the worst.”

“No, he didn’t hit me…”

He lowered his voice, “Your husband looks fierce!”

“…”

“Fierce?” Shen Zhixian couldn’t refute that.

But the word “husband” indeed made her face feel hot.

Jiang Yanting truly had a naturally cold face, so when he initially pursued her, it genuinely scared her; only later did she discover how secretly passionate he was.

“Come on in,” she said after seeing off the locksmith. Because Jiangjiang wouldn’t let go of her hand, she coughed and invited the father and son inside, “I only stay here occasionally, so there’s not much here.”

The room was indeed sparse; although it was fully furnished, it lacked warmth, clearly seldom lived-in.

“Please, have a seat,” Shen Zhixian said as the two entered the room. She then closed the door. The heating was on, making it very warm. They should have taken off their coats, but Jiangjiang still refused to let go of her hand.

Jiang Yanting glanced at him, “Take your coat off.”

“Oh—” Jiangjiang then let go of her hand.

“Make yourself comfortable, I don’t have much to offer for a drink, is plain water okay?” she asked Jiangjiang.

“I’m not picky,” Jiangjiang said in a soft, well-behaved voice.

Not picky? Jiang Yanting hummed to himself…

There was a period when he wouldn’t drink water, screaming for cola, and if not given, he’d refuse to eat anything. Now he says he’s not picky?

Shen Zhixian headed straight into the kitchen. Jiangjiang took off his coat, ready to follow her, practically wanting to become an appendage glued to her leg, but he had only taken a few steps when his collar was caught from behind, causing him almost to stumble.