TFRLTOP Chapter 41 Part 2

The alcohol must have really hit her, because suddenly she looked up. The moonlight couldn’t match the wild, unrestrained brilliance in her eyes. She lifted her voice proudly, almost defiantly, and declared, “I don’t need you.”

“You can lean on me.”

“No.”

“Then who will you lean on?”

Yan Junsheng’s gaze stayed locked on her, not daring to blink, terrified she’d say Wang Hu’s name.

“I don’t need anyone. When the time comes…” Ming Ming’s voice faltered into a mumble he couldn’t catch. All he heard was: “I’ll stay far, far away from you all. Nobody’s going to torment me.”

What hit him was just that part—she wanted to get far away. The words stabbed at him. He grabbed her sleeve. “You don’t want to be with me?”

Ming Ming thought for a moment. “Actually, I do.”

“After all, you’re so handsome.” She giggled twice, leaned in, and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “But no, it won’t work. There’s a wall between us!”

“A wall?” Yan Junsheng frowned, confused.

Like her bones had turned to jelly, she slumped against him, tilting her head toward the moon. With a long sigh, she muttered, “Because you’re not human.”

…?

Yan Junsheng thought, Now she’s insulting me? She’s never drinking again.

“How am I not human?”

“You’re an NPC,” she mumbled. “Who falls in love with a game character?”

“I’m… virtual?” His forehead vein twitched. He told himself not to argue with a drunk, but couldn’t help it—he pulled her upright, leaned down, and locked eyes with her. “Chen Chanjüan, look at me. What part of me looks fake? Can’t you see me? Touch me? I’m flesh and blood, standing right here in front of you. You can feel me, can’t you?”

Ming Ming stared at him for two seconds, processing. Slowly her eyes drifted downward, and she muttered, “Yeah… I can feel it.”

Some memory clearly resurfaced, because she shuddered, muttering, “That poor donkey really suffered.”

Yan Junsheng: “…”

He told himself again not to argue with a drunk.

Yeah, right.

Expressionless, he said, “Keep it up, and I’ll make you suffer again when we get home.”

Ming Ming’s eyes darted back and forth. Then she whispered shyly, “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

Yan Junsheng: “???”

She turned away and staggered toward the house. “It’s late. I need to go home and study.”

Yan Junsheng sighed and followed after her, steadying her with one hand and slipping in some advice whenever he could. “You really love studying that much? When we get home, read more politics.”

The word politics hit her like an electric shock. She shook her head furiously like a rattlesnake. “No politics! I won’t memorize politics!”

All the way home, through their stop-and-go walk, she kept chanting, “No politics, no politics!” No matter how he coaxed or reasoned, that was the only line he got.

“Okay, okay, no politics. You don’t have to study it. Whatever book you want, that’s the one we’ll read, alright?”

“Literature book,” she finally said something new.

“Fine, literature. I’ll get it for you.”

Ming Ming sat obediently on the bed. Yan Junsheng couldn’t find the one she’d bought herself, so he grabbed an old one he’d put away and handed it over. She barely flipped two pages before snapping it shut with a frown. “Not this one! Who swapped my literature book?”

“Big news, big news!” she muttered, starting to climb off the bed. Yan Junsheng quickly held her down. “No swap, no swap. I just grabbed the wrong one. I’ll get the right one.”

What difference could there be? One was new, one was old—unless she’d taken notes?

So serious? She loved literature this much?

Then what the hell was wrong with politics?

He searched high and low, but the precious book was nowhere to be found. Hesitant, he asked, “Maybe you left it at the store?”

But when he came back into the room—well, there she was, happily reading it.

Where had she pulled it from?

Before he could even wonder, Ming Ming beckoned him closer, then patted the space beside her. “Come on! I’ll tell you a story!”

Yan Junsheng was helpless. What else could he do? He climbed into bed, pulled her into his arms, propped her comfortably against his chest, and said softly, “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

But the woman in his arms was already lost in the book, ignoring him completely. Whatever she’d said two minutes ago was gone from her mind.

What’s so great about this book?

He leaned against the headboard, resting his chin lightly on her hair, arms circling her waist. No words passed between them, but he still felt content. His thoughts drifted. The documents Bai Yuehua had mailed should last him a while. From the last letter, it seemed things at home were improving—maybe soon he’d have the chance to go back.

His parents already knew about his marriage. Hopefully, he hadn’t accidentally slipped any frustration or resentment into his letters. When they returned to the city, he’d have to take her to meet his parents. And what about Chen Weiguo? Should he bring him too?

Tch. I’d rather not.

But Ming Ming would never leave her dad behind. He was her only family.

…Fine, then bring him.

Would the college entrance exams be restored? If they went back to the city, with her brains, she’d thrive. The world was huge and dazzling—what if, by then, she decided he wasn’t enough? What if other men chased after her?

What if that bastard Wang Hu showed up again?

So damn annoying. Please, just let my wife love me.

Just then, Ming Ming burst into giggles, cutting off his thoughts.

A literature book has jokes?

Come to think of it, why did Chen Chanjüan suddenly love literature so much? She’d never shown much interest in poetry or essays before. Yet these past few days, every time he passed the shop, eight times out of ten, she had her nose buried in that book.

Curious, he leaned over for a peek. One look—and his eyes widened, breath hitching in disbelief.

Well, that explained it.

It wasn’t just inappropriate—it was downright obscene.

Right then, Ming Ming flipped to the last page and let out a heavy, wistful sigh. With helpless frustration, she muttered, “The problem with scarce mental nourishment—I’ve practically memorized it. Guess I’ll just sleep and read it again tomorrow.”

Scarce nourishment… practically memorized…

Yan Junsheng finally saw her in a new light.

So that’s why she was so obsessed. That’s why she rejected the normal literature book after just a couple of pages.

Turns out… this so-called “literature book” was nothing but a smutty little paperback in disguise!