Chapter 40: Howling Cries

After his initial moment of surprise, Jiang Chengyan quickly broke into a cold sneer.

Seeing this, Madam Zhao poked Bai Yan’s back quietly from behind.

Instantly, Bai Yan seemed to be inflated, puffing out her little chest and shouting again at Jiang Chengyan, “Didn’t you hear me? I... I... I’m starving! I want a big drumstick!”

What Bai Yan didn’t know was that, in Jiang Chengyan’s eyes, she looked like nothing more than a paper tiger. He stepped forward, drawing closer and closer to Bai Yan, until he stopped just a breath away from her.

Lowering his gaze, his eyes lingered on her trembling long lashes. “What’s wrong? Didn’t see me for a while and now you’re stuttering?”

Bai Yan felt a jab in her chest.

“There are no drumsticks. How about rabbit legs?” Jiang Chengyan pinched her cheek gently. “Find the best rabbit legs, pan-fry them in the pot, sprinkle some seasoning, and cook until both sides are golden. How does that sound? Want to try it?” He bent slightly, meeting Bai Yan’s gaze.

Shivering all over, Bai Yan darted behind Madam Zhao like a startled rabbit, watching Jiang Chengyan in terror.

Madam Zhao, seeing Bai Yan rush back like a rabbit again, was exasperated and tried to pull her out. “You useless girl, listen to what you just said—no presence at all!”

“We have no shortage of tigresses in the family,” Jiang Chengyan’s gaze finally settled on Madam Zhao.

Madam Zhao, hearing the word “tigress” from her eldest son whom she so often complained about, was instantly displeased. “Who are you to talk about your own mother? If not for me, you wouldn’t have survived back then. Your mother’s luck and life are big enough not to be ruined by you!”

“Enough, don’t talk about this in front of the child. The water was found by the child early this morning. Try it—it’s sweet and should be good for making tofu.” Father Jiang quickly shifted the topic to the water.

Sure enough, Madam Zhao’s attention was immediately diverted.

With Madam Zhao’s cover gone, Bai Yan slipped away and darted toward the west wing.

She’d left home early that morning, and now, having eaten, all she wanted was sleep.

So, when Jiang Chengyan entered, Bai Yan had already discarded her outer robe and curled herself up in the bed.

“Tigress, hmm? Mother?” Jiang Chengyan sat by the edge of the kang, reaching out to grasp her slender ankle, his voice low.

Hearing Jiang Chengyan call her a tigress, Bai Yan suddenly popped out from under the covers, her head close to his—and then she let out a wolfish howl.

“You learn nothing good, just silly tricks,” Jiang Chengyan said, pinching her mouth shut so she could only mumble, unable to speak.

He kept Bai Yan muffled for quite a while before letting her go.

He changed out of his somewhat dirty clothes, keeping only his undershirt, and sat beside Bai Yan. Bai Yan, wrapped in her quilt, instinctively climbed onto his lap.

“Bring that basket over,” Jiang Chengyan nodded toward it.

Bai Yan reached out and hugged the small basket on the kang’s edge.

Once she had it, she immediately caught a whiff of something unusual.

She sniffed and sniffed, her little head almost diving into the basket.

Before reaching in, Bai Yan thought there must be something delicious inside, or perhaps hairpins and jewelry—certainly nothing too shabby.

Because this man knew she liked shiny gold and silver things.

But when her paw reached in and rummaged around, she pulled out a stack of small notebooks.

She flipped one open, only to find neat, square characters inside.

Seeing this, she immediately lost all interest, turned away, and hugged her pillow to sleep.

Neither edible nor wearable, and it even smelled musty.