Sweet Wife in My Arms

214 The Last Laugh

A moment later, the call went through. She heard Lu Yi's husky, slightly hoarse voice from the other end of the line, and wondered whether he had been asleep.

She had guessed correctly--Lu Yi and Little Bean had been asleep, but Lu Yi immediately sat up in bed, awake and alert. Little Bean, on the other hand, had been caught off-guard by Lu Yi's sudden movement. She rolled off of him and onto the floor, but quickly jumped back onto the bed and nestled herself next to him. She was no longer content with sleeping on the sofa outside; she preferred Lu Yi's blanket now.

"Lu Yi, it's me, Yan Huan."

Yan Huan steadied the gold crown on her head. She wished it were made of real gold--she would destroy it at once and pawn it off for money.

"I know." Lu Yi opened his eyes; his gaze was clear, without a single trace of groggy confusion. He was wide awake now.

"Um..." Yan Huan kicked a pebble near her feet. "Thanks for helping me out."

"You don't have to thank me." Lu Yi meant what he said; he did things because he wanted to, not because he expected to be thanked in return. "I told you, I'll protect you for as long as I live. You made the right decision telling me about your problem this time."

He frowned. He did not want to see Yan Huan jump from a window again. She seemed easygoing on the outside, but Yan Huan was clearly tough as nails on the inside. The small, petite woman put most men to shame when it came to inner strength and willpower.

Yan Huan kicked the pebble again.

"How about I treat you to dinner when I get back?" As soon as she said that, it suddenly occurred to her that he might not take her up on her offer. Lu Yi had a reputation for being a busy man who did not take appointments; it was just as difficult to return the favor as it was to get him to help you out in the first place.

But Yan Huan had assumed wrong.

"Okay." Lu Yi agreed easily, without hesitation. "I'll be waiting."

That simple "I'll be waiting" sent Yan Huan's heart racing. She could practically see manga bubbles of joy and happiness appear before her and break upon her face as they kissed her cheeks.

She did not know what else to say, so she ended the call.

She recalled Li Changqing's well-meaning advice to her: her meteoric rise in popularity was both a good thing and a bad thing. There were many more Zuo Fanrui's out there, and Li Changqing had suggested that she cling onto Lu Yi's thigh like a koala; no one would dare mess with her then.

But she had to ask herself whether she was okay with clinging onto him.

She did not want to be involved with the Lu family again, not even Lu Yi. But somehow, the invisible strings of fate seemed to pull them together; she had ended up staying in the same apartment building as him, and had bumped into him several times. More importantly, he had saved her a number of times now.

She had to repay her debt to him.

But her debt to him had snowballed into something so massive she did not think she could ever repay it in full.

Oh, whatever, she told herself as she adjusted the gold crown on her head again, if I have to cling to someone it might as well be Lu Yi. At least I know what kind of person he is--he's still the same Lu Yi from my previous life.

Cold on the outside, but warm on the inside.

"Yan Huan, you're up next." It was Director Zheng, calling for her.

Yan Huan quickly stood up and handed her phone to Yi Ling. The next scene was another scene with Concubine Mi, the scenes she enjoyed most. She relished every opportunity to crush Xiao Rongrong both in real life and within the story.

"Cut!" yelled the director once they finished the scene. Yan Huan's acting skills had improved again; she had decimated Xiao Rongrong almost as soon as the camera rolled.

"I'll wipe that smile off your face soon enough." Xiao Rongrong sneered.

Yan Huan merely smiled politely at that; she did not rebuke Xiao Rongrong. Yan Huan did not know for sure if she would be able to get the last laugh in this life, but she was confident that she would outlast someone like Xiao Rongrong, at the very least.

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