Chapter 11 The Door
The next day, I finally heard Jiang Song knocking.
This time I didn't make him wait long—in fact, I opened the door before he could even finish singing his usual line.
There was actually a hint of disappointment on his face.
Ridiculous, but somehow it suited him.
"Give me my mom back." He sounded tired, like he was done acting. The words rushed out fast.
I shook my head, smiling. "No way. I really like staying with Auntie. Pick something else."
He pretended to think for two seconds, then looked up quickly. "Then get back together. You can have Mom. After we marry, you can call her Mom openly."
"Worst case, pick Mom giving away her son. I'm the worthless free gift, but I'm still mandatory. Wen Shuangyang, say something already!"
Auntie Song had appeared behind me at some point. She drawled, "6, your mom will get filial-piety'd to death by you sooner or later."
Jiang Song didn't flinch. Instead he doubled down.
"Mom, I'm trying to win my wife back. Step aside."
Auntie Song quietly moved back two steps.
"Shuangyang, does he annoy you?"
"If he does, Auntie will slap him flying with one hand."
Jiang Song looked at me pitifully, staring like a big dog. "Wen Shuangyang, look how mean she is."
Here we go again.
Auntie Song looked a little surprised, then hid it.
Her gaze moved between us before she said firmly, "After being with Shuangyang, you've gradually started acting like a human being."
She returned to her question. "Shuangyang, does he annoy you?"
Jiang Song couldn't take it anymore. He pulled me toward him. I didn't resist, following his strength a few steps.
His other hand pressed against the door, trying to shut Auntie Song inside.
"Mom, go ask around—when has a mother-in-law ever fought her son for his wife?"
Auntie Song poked her head out from the doorway.
"Don't talk nonsense. Shuangyang isn't even your girlfriend right now."
"Too much." Jiang Song muttered, then suddenly looked down at me.
I lifted my eyes in confusion.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on my forehead.
Then he grinned provocatively at Auntie Song.
I saw Auntie Song clench one fist while her other hand squeezed it.
This was going to be bad.
I turned and opened the door wider.
"Do you want to come in?"
Jiang Song answered with action, striding in with three big steps.
Auntie Song still looked annoyed. She leaned close and whispered to me, "Look at him—like a little dog."
"A clingy little dog."
"Mom." Jiang Song turned sharply, ears practically twitching as he caught our whispers.
"Let me tell you, Wen Shuangyang and I share a bed now. I can whisper in her ear later."
Having a son like Jiang Song must be exhausting.
I hurried forward and took his hand.
"Want some noodles? I'll make you a bowl."
His face came close. He wrapped his arms around me, voice low and rough.
"I knew you wouldn't forget."
As I led him toward the kitchen, Auntie Song commented, "Wow, the leashed little dog suddenly looks so proud."
Jiang Song pretended not to hear, only urging me with his eyes.
I couldn't help laughing.
They say dogs never lie. When they love, they're honest and firm.
Even if you've hurt them, they won't hold it against you.
They'll only say it was a little cold, and that you wouldn't forget.