Hello my cute little readers! I will start writing this novel again! But first, remember to write comments!

Ohh! And.... Read the previous chapter first.

Su Yubing's brushing didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed slightly in the mirror. A silent warning.

Mo Yuxin, emboldened by the lack of immediate pushback, let her free hand drift from her side. Her fingers lightly traced a path up Su Yubing's back, over the thin material of her robe, coming to rest on the delicate curve of her waist. She squeezed gently, a possessive, loving gesture.

That was when Su Yubing stopped. She slowly pulled the toothbrush from her mouth, placed it carefully on the counter, and turned her head to look directly at Mo Yuxin. The look she gave her was not one of anger, but of a deep, patient, and utterly immovable coldness. It was a look that could freeze a bubbling pot in seconds. It was the famous "Su Yubing Glare," a weapon known only to her wife, and it was one hundred percent effective.

Mo Yuxin's playful hand immediately stilled. The mischievous glint vanished, replaced by a comically wide-eyed look of innocence. She pulled back as if scalded, standing up straight and finally putting her own toothbrush to use with a sudden, intense focus, her cheeks puffing out with exaggerated effort. She stared fixedly at her own reflection, pretending to be deeply invested in dental hygiene.

A small, almost invisible smile touched Su Yubing's lips before she turned back to the mirror and resumed her brushing, the crisis smoothly and silently handled.

Once they were both washed up and dressed in comfortable home clothes—soft, expensive cashmere sweaters and tailored trousers for Yubing, a well-worn, slightly oversized hoodie that had once belonged to Yubing for Yuxin—they moved to the heart of their home: the kitchen. This was where their roles became most clear. Su Yubing moved with a natural, unhurried authority, pulling eggs, vegetables, and bread from the large, smart refrigerator that had already suggested a congee recipe based on the ingredients it sensed. She was the captain of this ship, and the sizzle of oil in the pan was her command.

Mo Yuxin, meanwhile, drifted toward the sunlit nook that served as her writing space, just off the open-plan living area. Her desk was a beautiful, modern thing, but its surface was a testament to organized chaos. A large, curved monitor sat beside a sleek laptop, both state-of-the-art. Scattered around them were notepads filled with her tight, hurried script, a few well-loved books with colorful tabs sticking out from their pages, and a collection of elegant pens.

This was where Mo Yuxin, the award-winning author, lived. To her millions of readers, she was a figure of mystery and immense talent. Her novels, complex and emotionally sharp, topped bestseller lists and won prestigious prizes. Her public image, crafted from the few interviews she gave, was one of a cool, aloof intellectual, a woman of few words who observed the world with a piercing, unsentimental eye.

If only they could see her now. She sat in her plush chair, but she didn't start typing immediately. Instead, she swiveled the chair around to watch Su Yubing. Her eyes followed the sway of her wife's ponytail, the confident way she chopped green onions, the gentle curve of her smile as she hummed a tune under her breath. The famous author looked not aloof, but utterly, completely besotted.

After a while, the rich aroma of fried eggs, toasted bread, and gently simmering congee filled the air. Su Yubing arranged two plates with a beautiful simplicity and brought them over to the small dining table. "Xinxin, breakfast," she called, her voice warm and melodic.

Mo Yuxin was at the table in an instant, drawn like a moth to a flame. She waited for Su Yubing to sit down before immediately scooting her own chair so close their arms were pressed together from elbow to shoulder.

"This looks amazing, Bingbing," Yuxin said, her eyes wide as she looked at the perfectly golden fried egg perched on top of the congee, alongside some quickly sautéed greens. "You could totally have a cooking channel. 'Su Yubing's Silent Kitchen.' No talking, just that glare to instruct."

Su Yubing gave a soft, unamused huff, but her eyes crinkled at the corners. "Eat your food before it gets cold. And my glare is not for public consumption. It's a limited edition, only for you."

"Lucky me," Yuxin chirped, picking up her chopsticks. She took a bite of the egg and let out an exaggerated, blissful moan. "So good. My wife is the best at everything."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Yubing replied, blowing softly on a spoonful of the steaming congee. "But it won't get you out of doing the dishes later." She took a bite, then asked, "What are you working on today? The new chapter?"

Yuxin nodded, her mouth full. She swallowed quickly. "Mhm. The confrontation chapter in the garden. The protagonist finally tells the villain she knows the truth." She poked at her egg yolk, watching it run golden over the rice. "It's… tricky. She's angry, but she's also heartbroken. They were friends once. Getting the tone right is hard. I don't want it to be just shouting, you know?"

"It won't be," Yubing said with simple, unwavering confidence. "Your characters are never just one thing. That's why people love them. She'll be heartbroken and furious. She'll want to cry and scream at the same time. You'll find it." She reached over and gently wiped a tiny spot of soy sauce from the corner of Yuxin's mouth with her thumb. "You always do."

The simple touch and vote of confidence made Yuxin's heart swell. Even after seven years, her wife's belief in her was the most potent fuel for her creativity. "What if I can't?" she whispered, a rare flash of professional insecurity surfacing. "What if this is the book where everyone figures out I'm a fraud?"

Su Yubing put her spoon down and turned fully to face her, her expression serious. "Mo Yuxin. The woman who just won the Golden Quill Award for the third time is not a fraud. The woman whose editor emails her daily begging for pages is not a fraud. You're just stuck. It happens. Now eat your breakfast, stop being dramatic, and later you'll go punch the words until they behave."

Yuxin couldn't help but laugh. "Punch the words. Is that your professional writing advice?"

"It's served you well so far," Yubing said primly, picking her spoon back up. "Now, tell me more about this villain. Is he based on that horrible critic who said your last book was 'unnecessarily poetic'?"

And just like that, the insecurity vanished, replaced by the joy of sharing her world with her favorite person. They talked about everything and nothing. They deconstructed the villain' motivations, debated the protagonist's next move, and then seamlessly switched to discussing the new linen fabric shipment for Yubing's online store.

"The samples are beautiful," Yubing said, her eyes lighting up with professional passion. "But the manufacturer is being difficult about the minimum order for the sage green color. I might have to call them later."

"Use your glare on them," Yuxin suggested, stealing a piece of greens from Yubing's plate.

"It only works on you," Yubing replied, deftly stealing a piece of egg yolk from Yuxin's plate in return.

They talked about the funny video of a corgi trying to climb stairs they'd seen online, and what they should have for dinner. The conversation never stalled. It was a constant, comforting stream of shared thoughts, a seven-year-long dialogue that neither ever tired of. Throughout it all, one of Yuxin's hands found its way under the table to rest on Su Yubing's thigh, a warm, steadying weight. She was a human koala, needing constant physical contact, and Yubing, for all her pretended sternness, leaned into the touch.

Nobody in the world knew this side of Mo Yuxin. Her fans, her editor, even the journalists who occasionally managed to secure an interview would never believe that the brilliant, distant writer was, in reality, a complete wife slave. She lived for Su Yubing's smiles, her approval, her warm touch. Her greatest happiness was found not in winning awards, but in this sunny kitchen, clinging to the love of her life, talking about villains and fabric shipments.

After breakfast, they cleaned up together—Yuxin washing, Yubing drying—their conversation continuing over the running water.

"So you'll call the manufacturer?" Yuxin asked, scrubbing a pan.

"After I check the pre-orders for that color," Yubing said, nodding. "If the demand is high enough, I'll have more leverage."

"My business genius," Yuxin said, grinning as she handed over the wet pan.

Yubing smiled, taking it. "And you'll go 'punch' your words?"

"I'll beat them into submission," Yuxin declared with mock ferocity.

They finished and retreated to their respective worlds. The quiet of the morning was broken only by the soft clicking of Yubing's mouse as she managed her hugely successful online empire, and the frantic, inspired clatter of Yuxin's keyboard as she lost herself in her fictional world, her wife's confidence a shield against her doubts.

Lunch was a lighter repeat of their easy companionship—leftovers from breakfast and simple sandwiches, eaten again at the same table, with the same closeness, their conversation now dotted with updates from their morning ("I sold fifty units of the new blouse in two hours!" "I wrote a thousand words. They're terrible, but they exist!").

It was as they were finishing lunch that Su Yubing's phone chimed with a specific, familial tone. She picked it up, her eyes scanning the message. A soft smile appeared on her face.

"Xinxin," she said, drawing her wife's attention away from the last bite of her sandwich. "My mother just texted. She and my father are on their way. They'll be here in a couple of hours."

Mo Yuxin's eyes lit up. "Really? That's perfect!" A slight worry line appeared on her brow. "The house… is it clean enough? Do we have enough food for tomorrow's reunion dinner? I should… I should put on a nicer hoodie."

Su Yubing laughed, a light, musical sound. She reached out and smoothed Yuxin's hair back from her forehead. "The house is perfect. The food is all ordered and will be delivered in the morning. And you," she said, her voice full of affection, "are perfect just as you are. They're coming to see us, not the house."

She stood up and began gathering the plates. "Come on, let's just tidy up a little. They'll want to start preparing for the New Year as soon as they arrive. Tomorrow is a big day."

The calm of their quiet workday had shifted, replaced by the warm, buzzing anticipation of family. The Year of the Snake was coming to an end, and the Year of the Horse was galloping in, and it would begin, as all the most important things in their life did, surrounded by the people they loved.

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Thanks for reading.

Stay tuned for more.

Hello dear readers, I have not been writing this novel for quite some time for some personal reasons. I had also made a mistake uploading this chapter which was actually the draft of the previous chapter and I had mistakenly uploaded it.

Anyway, good news!! . I'm back writing this novel. I will try to upload three chapters per week. But first, read the few extra chapters that I wrote. Enjoy!!

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Read my other novel "The female protagonist falls in love with me in every world, (QT)![GL"

Synopsis: The heroines in sad stories are always innocent and simple. They are deceived by scumbags and then suffer from mental and physical abuse.

But Qiao Zhi will save her from fire and water, no matter what.

Yes, She will save her Gu'er through the countless worlds where the scattered parts of her soul have been born with a new life and new identities, yet all that remains the same is the miserable and unexpected life her Gu'er lives in all those worlds.