Chapter 81: Girlfriend and Future Mother-in-law

Zhang Wenhao spent the night making do in the driver's seat of his Passat. At precisely 6:20, his phone alarm rang. He freshened up quickly in the bathroom, then tiptoed into the house to fetch some money, only to unintentionally wake Qian Ning.

"You’re leaving?" Qian Ning glanced at him from the bed.

Wenhao nodded. "You must be hungry. There are still a few bottles of glucose in the case; drink them when you wake up. I’ll bring you some food and supplies at noon."

"Be careful," Qian Ning reminded him, her gaze lingering. "If they’re still looking for me, don’t come back at noon. Wait until evening. And please, buy me more necessities. I’ll have to wait until my wound heals before I can leave. Your coming and going all the time isn’t safe. If you buy enough now, I won’t have to trouble you later."

Zhang Wenhao replied calmly, "For the next three days, I’ll come every day. Even if your wound doesn’t get infected, I need to give you antibiotics intravenously on a schedule."

"Alright," Qian Ning nodded gently. "But be careful. Take your gun with you."

"It’s in the car," Wenhao assured her. "I’ll have it with me."

Driving away, Zhang Wenhao noticed a black Range Rover idling by the exit six alleys over. As he passed it, he saw a man in the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the exit, and another man sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. Zhang Wenhao was surprised: after a whole night, they hadn’t given up. If anything, they seemed even better prepared.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Qian Ning had done last night to make these people so determined to catch her. From what he’d learned yesterday, she was definitely not with the government, nor a local of Jiangcheng. More likely, she belonged to some assassin organization.

Given their persistence, they must have suffered a heavy loss. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be going to such lengths. Maybe Qian Ning had succeeded in her mission last night—but who did she kill?

Wenhao’s mind was clouded with questions, so he decided not to dwell on it. As for whether Qian Ning or these people were good or bad, he couldn’t judge objectively. It seemed neither side was connected to the authorities. Not only do good and evil stand opposed, but sometimes good opposes good, and evil opposes evil—it all depends on their positions. What did it matter who was right? The people after Qian Ning had shot at him yesterday and chased him through several streets. As things stood, they were his enemies.

It was out of the question to drive straight to school. So, Zhang Wenhao parked the car in an old residential complex about a kilometer from the school. Older neighborhoods had the advantage of lax management and no designated parking spots except for bicycle sheds. One could park under any building and nobody would care.

After parking, Zhang Wenhao hid his pistol under the seat, retrieved his backpack from the trunk, changed into his school uniform, and restored his student appearance. He pocketed the car keys and headed to the bus stop where Su Ruoran would arrive.

He waited less than ten minutes before bus 95 pulled up. Several students with backpacks got off. Su Ruoran followed at a leisurely pace. When she saw Zhang Wenhao waiting, she quickened her step, squeezed past two others, and came to his side smiling. "Why didn’t you ride your bike? I was looking for you from the bus."

"It’s gone," Zhang Wenhao shrugged, spreading his hands. "Until I get a new one, I’ll have to walk with you."

To Su Ruoran, losing a bike was trivial. She didn’t ask how he’d lost it, just teased him, "You really are silly, losing your bike."

"Yeah," Zhang Wenhao laughed. "Guess I am a bit silly. I’ll get another one. That old thing was barely hanging on anyway."

Su Ruoran stepped closer and hooked her arm around his, musing as they walked, "Why not buy a tandem bike? Then we can both ride together."

Zhang Wenhao snorted. "Only you would come up with that. Have you ever seen one on the street? Aside from tourist spots, who rides those around town? And imagine dropping you off, then me pedaling a tandem back alone—how ridiculous would that look?"

Su Ruoran feigned remorse. "Okay, I was just saying. We’ll buy one when we’re in college."

"Alright," Zhang Wenhao smiled. "When the time comes, I’ll get one and pick you up outside your dorm every day."

Su Ruoran cheered in delight. "You said it! I’m holding you to it—don’t forget your promise."

"Don’t worry." Zhang Wenhao tapped his forehead. "It’s all right here."

Ruoran gave a shy smile, then said, "By the way, tomorrow’s Friday. Remember, you promised to come to my house for dinner. Don’t forget!"

Zhang Wenhao started, then replied, "I almost forgot. Should I prepare something for your mom? What gift should I bring?"

Su Ruoran pouted playfully. "You’re so shameless. Who said she’s your future mother-in-law?"

Zhang Wenhao grinned. "You’re my girlfriend, so your mom is my future mother-in-law, isn’t she?"

Su Ruoran’s heart fluttered—the word "girlfriend" was the first time he’d said it aloud. Now he’d taken the initiative to acknowledge their relationship. Although they’d both known it unspoken, for her, as a girl, it needed to be confirmed. Sweet as honey, she still gave him a playful glare. "Don’t get too familiar with my mom. She just wants to thank you, so don’t bring presents. The driver will pick us up after school tomorrow."

Zhang Wenhao nodded. Given Su Ruoran’s family background, bringing a gift as a high school student was inappropriate, even awkward. Besides, if the boyfriend brings gifts to the girlfriend’s family dinner, it sends a different message.

They parted at the school stairway. For the rest of the morning, whenever he wasn’t in class, Zhang Wenhao pondered what supplies Qian Ning would need. If she had to stay until her wound healed, she’d be there at least a month. He’d need to prepare a lot.

Beyond food and daily necessities, he considered whether to include feminine products. Better to be prepared than caught off-guard. He made a shopping list in his mind, planning to shop at the supermarket at noon.

At lunchtime, Zhang Wenhao walked Su Ruoran to the bus stop, saw her off, then fetched his car and parked in another neighborhood near home before walking back. His parents didn’t ask where he was last night, just urged him to eat. These days, Zhang Xingping and his wife trusted him completely. In his father’s eyes, Zhang Wenhao had matured more in the past months than many people in their twenties. They gave him total freedom.

While eating, Zhang Wenhao told his parents, "Mom, Dad, I lost my bike. Can we get a new one this weekend?"

Hua Fang smiled. "That old bike was on its last legs anyway. We’ll get you a new one this weekend."

Since Director Han had sent them two million yuan, the family’s finances had become comfortable. Zhang Wenhao had convinced his parents to replace their decades-old appliances and furniture, and even urged them to buy a place in Jiangcheng. At first, his parents hesitated, thinking the money should be kept for his college and future in Yanjing. But Zhang Wenhao made an argument they couldn’t refuse.

He had said: "Houses in Yanjing aren’t easy for outsiders to buy. Even if I wanted to stay, I’d have to pay taxes for five years before qualifying. If I don’t go to grad school, that’s four years of college, then five years working—nine years before I could buy. Right now, housing is twenty to thirty thousand per square meter, so two million can barely buy a two-bedroom outside the city center. In nine years, prices could be fifty, sixty, even eighty thousand. Then, two million won’t buy anything. Better to buy in Jiangcheng now, where prices are only eight thousand. One million gets a spacious apartment. Even if I don’t return, we can sell it later for a place in Yanjing. Investing in property is a thousand times better than putting money in the bank, which just loses value over time."

He’d gone on: "Ten years ago, a yuan bought a hearty breakfast. If you’d put it in the bank, after ten years you’d only get enough for a greasy fritter. These days, anyone saving money in the bank is a fool."

His analogy won his parents over. Recently, they’d been house-hunting, planning to buy Zhang Wenhao a home in Jiangcheng as a fallback.

During lunch, Zhang Wenhao said, "Tomorrow night, Ruoran’s mother invited me to dinner. I’ve already accepted, so don’t wait for me."

Song Huafang beamed. "Dinner at her house? Wonderful! I’ll take the afternoon off to buy a gift for you to bring. You can’t go empty-handed."

Zhang Xingping quickly interjected, "No, don’t buy anything! They’re just inviting a kid to dinner—if he shows up with presents, what will they think? We don’t want to look like he’s already the son-in-law, do we?"

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Fourth chapter complete. Please recommend and bookmark!