Sweet Wife in My Arms

"Who can do it with a boring woman like her? I can't even get it to stand with her lying there like a dead fish. You reckon you can do better than me, brother?"

Lu Yi froze.

Now that his hands stopped moving, the cartoon avatar within the phone kept running forward until it died from an enemy attack.

He remembered Yan Huan telling him that he and Fang Zhu's relationship was respectful but icy. They bore no children.

He shook his head, sympathizing with the whiny man before him.

He saw himself from his previous life in that man.

The man gazed at the ceiling and sighed.

"My life is ruined."

Lu Yi tapped 'revive', and the cartoon avatar came back to life, stood up again and raced forth. 　　

So was mine, he thought, during my previous life.

Inside the toilet, Yan Huan twisted the tap open and put her hands below the sink. There were still wounds on them, but they were mostly scabbing and healing.

The wounds didn't look very pretty, but her thin but not bony hands were shapely with long fingers and white, tender skin.

The tap beside was also turned on, a pair of hands extending below it, its fingers fat and short and unadorned.

Yan Huan was more observant of such things than most people. She had taken meticulous care of her fingers, had an exquisite diamond ring on one of them, and a thin, beautiful bracelet of unknown material around her wrist. She looked up. In the mirror, she saw herself, youthful and exuberant, and also a harridan. 　

"You know, you can try going for a different style for once," she advised kindly. Men were sensory creatures. There's nothing wrong for a woman to have substance and intellect, but those weren't enough to satisfy a man. What a man wants to see is beauty. ã€€

Fang Zhu looked up and saw Yan Huan in her glamour, not just because of her clothes but also her face, innocent air, and an hourglass body. 　

Fang Zhu pursed her moldy-looking lips, pale and unsightly from the lack of lipsticks.

Yan Huan took out her makeup-kit and applied a layer of foundation to get rid of the oily look. Her skin was naturally good, so she only needed a bit of foundation. She then added some blush. Lastly, she smeared some lipstick to the area below her thumb, dipped it in water, and used it as a secondary layer of blush. This will give her a healthy glow.

Then, she kept the lipstick in her bag and walked out.

Women should treat themselves well. Women ought to dress up for the man they like.

Fang Zhu wasn't actually that bad. Education just made her dull and dreary. Yan Huan didn't actually hate Fang Zhu like she hated Su Muran. Even though Fang Zhu had looked down on her, it was her fault for being too stupid and conceited.

Plus, she was a teeny-bit apologetic. Had she not been reborn, Lu Yi and Fang Zhi would have gone down the same road. It might not have been the best path, but it was the one that was meant to happen until she came along.

If Fang Zhu takes her advice, something might change. Otherwise, with her disposition, nothing with change no matter whom she marries. She would never be able to attain love from a respectful, icy marriage.

Love sweet, but it also can be sour, bitter, or even painful. But humans need love. Lots of them.

A woman who has never experienced love is pitiful.

Yan Huan walked over and sat down beside Lu Yi, then rested on his leg and watched him play the game. The phone was still on his laps. Yan Huan had bought the newest model to play games. Skills aside, she had to at least have the best equipment.

Yan Huan felt defeated when she saw the familiarity in the way Lu Yi played.

"You play exactly like how I play, but why do I always die here?"

"Too dumb," said Lu Yi lightly.

Yan Huan stared. Still looking down, Lu Yi squeezed her cheeks.

"Don't worry about it, nothing wrong with being a big boobed birdbrain."

"..."

Fang Zhu's eyes twitched at their flirty behavior. Lu Yi had never treated her that way, and neither could she replicate what Yan Huan was doing. Showering a man with hugs and kisses was against her teachings. In fact, it went against her understanding of this world. She wasn't Yan Huan. She couldn't do it. What would it be like if she was the one lying on a man's lap?

What would it look like?

Have you ever seen an old nun showering a man with hugs and kisses?

No, right?

It's not possible, right?

Right?

Troubled, she straightened herself, her teeth hurting from the clenching. The man beside her looked at her, then at the beautiful woman with a great figure and sweet voice on Lu Yi's lap. He cried internally.

Comparison breeds pain.

Even though the pain was what made him compare in the first place.

Plus, why was this guy's girlfriend so familiar-looking? He pondered over that for a while but couldn't remember who it was. Maybe she was a star look-alike, but he couldn't put his fingers on who it was.

A radio announcement came, saying that the ticket-cutting for their movie had begun. Lu Yi kept the phone and gave the popcorn to Yan Huan, carrying the two cups of drinks.

When their tickets were being cut, the ticket-cutter stared at Yan Huan's face for a long while. Yan Huan looked down and busied herself with the popcorn.

Lu Yi held her hand tightly as the two walked into the auditorium.

It was a 2D artistic film with a small audience. Yan Huan roughly counted 7. A dismal number.

This little? As an actress herself, she realized that she would be very sad if this was her film. In this life, everything had been aligned for her.

Therefore, even though she didn't film many movies, they all turned out to be blockbusters, one of which earning first place in box office income of that year. None of her films were this unpopular.

She sneaked a peek at the woman beside her. How cliché is it for Fang Zhu to be seated right beside her?

What a dreadful coincidence. Couldn't she watch a movie in peace?