CHAPTER 332: CHAPTER 332: HEARTACHE, MY WIFE DOESN’T LOVE ME

It’s another sunny and breezy day.

It’s Lu Qing’s birthday. Early in the morning, he received a bunch of red packets from people—every single one pulled in, and none from Qin Miaomiao!

Does his wife not know?

That can’t be right—he had subtly reminded her yesterday. Where was the anticipated sweet good morning kiss?

Looking around, she was already nowhere to be seen.

Lord Lu got up feeling a little deflated.

Scrolling through his moments, Jin Jing had posted a new update. It showed a Western-style breakfast, along with a photo of him hugging Jiaojiao and kissing her cheek, plus a screenshot of the red packet.

"My wife is seriously the sweetest. Early in the morning, she made me breakfast and wished me happy birthday. Kiss, kiss."

Jiaojiao replied below: "Stop calling me that. I’m not your wife."

"Aww, wife is being shy. It’s just a matter of time anyway. Thanks for the red packet, love you."

Lu Qing rarely commented back: "Show-off."

After some thought, he posted a selfie to his own moments.

"Today is a good day."

With his wife’s wit and intelligence, she should be able to figure it out, right?

The post quickly garnered a lot of likes, with a variety of comments flooding in, as people arrived on the battlefield:

"Congrats Brother Lu on aging another year!"

"Happy Birthday, +1."

"Happy Birthday, +1."

"Happy Birthday, +1."

.....

He scrolled through the comments again and again—his wife didn’t even leave a like.

Could she not have seen it?

After washing up, he headed downstairs. He heard some noise from the kitchen. Looking over, Qin Miaomiao was preparing breakfast—it seemed like she was making porridge.

There was just a faint burnt smell lingering in the air.

She cheerfully ladled some of the porridge into a bowl, brought it over to him, and smiled brightly:

"Good morning, hubby. This is the seafood porridge I made for you—try it."

Lu Qing leaned in and took a sniff. Besides the burnt smell, there was also an overpowering seafood odor. But since his wife seldom cooked herself, he had to give her some face.

Smiling, he held his breath and took a bite, then gave her a thumbs-up:

"It’s great. Wife, you’re amazing."

Qin Miaomiao’s eyes instantly lit up: "Really? Then have some more!"

Lu Qing looked at the bowl of seafood porridge with a serious expression. What mattered more—his stomach or his wife? Of course, his wife!

He downed the entire bowl of seafood porridge, forcefully. Qin Miaomiao was secretly delighted—looks like her culinary skills had improved. Tonight’s candlelit dinner would be made by her, too.

"Finished? Want another bowl?"

Lu Qing quickly shook his head: "No need, I’ve got something later."

"Alright, get home early then."

She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek, sending him out the door.

"Hubby, work hard. I’ll be waiting for you at home."

But where was the happy birthday? Not even a simple happy birthday?

Lu Qing grew even gloomier.

At the company, Jin Jing came to find him. The two of them were collaborating on a few projects. The moment Jin Jing saw Lu Qing, he grinned:

"Little Lu, it’s our birthday today. What’s your plan for celebrating?"

Lu Qing... with a cold face: "Why do you want to know?"

"We’re all family, why keep it to yourself? I told Jiaojiao it’s just a birthday, no need to make a big deal, but she insisted it’s rare and should be handled extravagantly. She said she’s cooking for me personally to celebrate. Early this morning, she even gave me a sweet kiss—look at my neck, she left a hickey."

As he spoke, he pulled down his collar to show, making Lu Qing’s face grow even colder:

"Get out."

"Aww, Little Lu, you’ve got quite the temper. Does it mean your wife didn’t take good care of you?"

"Leave!"

Jin Jing hummed a tune as he walked off, rare to see Lu Qing sulking—it finally felt like sweet revenge for all the years of being bossed around.

Having a wife really is great—you can show off your love and affection. Should he go poke around Song Li, or Yan Lv, or maybe Meng Er?