After Marrying the Wrong Crazy Husband, I Ran Away with His Baby - Chapter 28

The private jet landed at Saint Sea Manor that very day—just to deliver a not-so-expensive ice cream dessert.

But Xia Yuan wasn’t at the manor.

Butler Wang grabbed the captain’s hand and asked anxiously, “What is Young Master busy with? Why isn’t he answering his phone?”

The captain scratched his head. “Uncle Wang, you’re asking the wrong person. I only fly the plane for Young Master. As for his exact schedule, I don’t know.”

Butler Wang had no choice but to release the captain and try calling Yang Yi and Pei Jinchen, but neither of them could get through to Qin Mohuai either.

Yang Yi told him, “It’s possible someone tampered with Mohuai’s phone number. That’s why we can’t reach him.”

And who had the ability to tamper with Qin Mohuai’s number? The answer was obvious.

Suddenly, Butler Wang thought of someone—someone who might be able to bypass the Old Master and contact Young Master. But that person had already broken ties with the Qin family and gone independent.

That man was the Old Master’s youngest son—Qin Jiuye. Just like Qin Mohuai, he was arrogant and unyielding, only thirty-five this year.

The Old Master had also forbidden him from marrying the woman he loved. For her sake, Jiuye turned his back on the Qin family. But then… that woman mysteriously vanished.

Yang Yi comforted, “Mohuai will be back in a few days. Once he returns, everything will be resolved. Don’t worry too much.”

But after witnessing such a tragic precedent, how could Butler Wang not worry?

He feared that Miss Xia might vanish just like that woman, and also feared that Young Master might one day cut ties with the Qin family, just like Jiuye.

Although Jiuye’s career was thriving now—his Deep Sea Group rivaled the Qin Corporation—back then, when he searched the world for that woman, he stirred up storms of blood and chaos, nearly destroying himself in the process…

Butler Wang thought long and hard, but no better solution came to mind. In the end, he could only make sure the dessert was delivered to Xia Yuan and order bodyguards to secretly keep watch over her.

That night, Xia Yuze came home dragging his suitcase. His boss and agent had given him a long “vacation,” which was really just a polite way of saying he was being frozen out.

The Old Master Qin was ruthless, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Xia Yuan sat on the balcony, lost in thought, venting her frustrations on a pot of orchids.

The orchid’s green leaves were sharp as swords, encircling the tightly clustered white blossoms in the middle. Xia Yuan plucked at the petals, muttering curses under her breath.

Behind her, Xia Yi sat in a rattan chair, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Even in his forties, her father was still strikingly handsome. Time seemed to favor him—aside from a few fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, his aura and gaze were as sunny and dazzling as ever.

Xia Yi loved orchids. When Xia Yuan had first transmigrated here, she thought her biological father was pure and noble like some immortal herb. But after spending time with Qin Mohuai, she began to see her father differently.

Xia Yi wasn’t some fragile, gentle pushover. He only looked sunny and warm; in truth, he carried a deep streak of darkness. After entering middle age, though, that darkness was tempered with a trace of acceptance and ease.

Xia Yi wasn’t afraid of the dark at all, but for over twenty years he pretended to be, just to make Liang Min dote on him. Wherever she went, she took him along. And whenever the power went out at home, the first person she coaxed wasn’t the kids, but her “afraid-of-the-dark” husband.

“Little Yuan, I know you’re upset, but this orchid is innocent,” Xia Yi said, lifting the pot in his arms. His long, slender fingers reached out to tap her forehead.

Xia Yuan drooped her head. “Daddy, I’m sorry. This time I dragged all of you down.”

Xia Yi’s gentle voice carried a smile. “Families will always owe each other in some way. As long as we stay united, there’s no obstacle we can’t overcome.”

After coming home, Xia Yuze didn’t sit idle. Since he could cook, he naturally took over the task of making dinner.

Meanwhile, Liang Min was doing the accounts. Even though two of their stores had been forced to suspend operations, she still had to pay wages to the renovation team per their contract.

The family restaurant had been shut down, their source of income cut off, and on top of that, they had to pour more money into it…

Xia Yuze handed his mother several of his bank cards. “I’ve made some money these past two years. If we live frugally, the four of us won’t starve.”

Liang Min refused, shaking her head.
“You just bought a house. The mortgage alone is tens of thousands every month. If you give us your bank card, how will you even pay the loan?”

Xia Yi smiled faintly. “If we just sit and wait for death, then we’ll really be waiting for death.”

“I’ve always wanted to work in a hotel, learn about hotel management. Now I finally have the time. I’m thinking of applying as a cook or a cleaner. At least there’ll be some income, enough to keep living.”

Liang Min wasn’t a great beauty, her looks only counted as delicate and pleasant. But her gentleness and tenacity made her shine brighter than anyone else.

Xia Yi was utterly mesmerized.
“Wife, I’ll go with you. We’ll apply for cook and cleaner positions together.”

Liang Min studied her husband’s face and suddenly laughed out loud.
“If I were HR, I’d definitely put you at the front desk.”

Xia Yi chuckled too, his aura all the more refined, almost otherworldly—so ethereal that no one could ever quite grasp his true thoughts.

But one thing was undeniable: he loved Liang Min. Loved her enough to die for her.

Xia Yuan looked at her father, then her mother. The world outside was a storm, but inside, under this warm light, their little family was harmonious and full of love. It felt so good.

When Xia Yuze finished stir-frying the dishes, he casually tossed the plate onto the table. Xia Yi, with his obsessive tendencies, immediately straightened it out.

Back when the family’s small restaurant was still running, neighbors used to gossip that Xia Yi was living off his wife. After all, it was always Liang Min who bought the groceries, cooked, and did the hard work.

But they never knew—it was Xia Yi who took care of every inch of hygiene, both at the restaurant and at home. His obsessive nature left no detail unchecked.

Seeing her beautiful, compulsive father fuss over the placement of a dish, Xia Yuan couldn’t help thinking of the novel’s plot—how the couple had died of gas poisoning.

With Xia Yi’s obsessive habits, how could he possibly forget to check the gas switch?

No… if Liang Min ever despaired of living, Xia Yi would follow her without hesitation.

Liang Min’s gaze fell on the Kung Pao Chicken at the table, and she smiled.
“You know, every time something big happens in our family, there’s always Kung Pao Chicken on the table.”

Xia Yuan blinked. “Why’s that?”

Liang Min said softly, “Because the day your father and I decided to get married, we ate this dish. We were poor then—only ordered Kung Pao Chicken and two bowls of rice. After eating, we decided to marry.”

Xia Yuze, who’d been burying his face in his bowl, suddenly raised his head.
“Then when I want to marry someone, I’ll make her Kung Pao Chicken too.”

The next morning, Liang Min and Xia Yi went out to look for jobs. Xia Yuan also left—planning to find work in a restaurant and maybe learn a bit of cake-making.

She stepped into a French restaurant for an interview. To her surprise, the manager hired her on the spot.

“Manager Sun, I don’t speak French.”

“That’s fine. Ninety-nine percent of our customers are Chinese. For the rest, just use English.”

That very afternoon, Xia Yuan started her first shift. Manager Sun had thought she was just some rich young miss playing at working life. But once he saw her carrying trays—steady, practiced, like she’d done it a hundred times—he realized she wasn’t pretending.

In the original novel, ‘Xia Yuan’ had loving parents and never suffered hardship. But in reality, she’d been supporting her family since childhood. Carrying trays was nothing. She’d swept streets, handed out flyers, washed cars…

She’d even eyed the high daily wages at construction sites and tried to join as a laborer. But the foreman took one look at her slender figure, decided she was just messing around, and refused to hire her.

A week later, Qin Mohuai’s private jet landed back at Shenghai Manor.

Days of grueling work, coupled with insomnia, had left him irritable. His sharp, handsome features were clouded with gloom—yet the corners of his lips carried a rare smile.

Because tonight, he could finally hold Xia Yuan in his arms and sleep soundly.

Only…

Where was his wife?