My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 132: I'm so shameless

Zhou Suzhi was in the kitchen, Xu Wenbin was in the study, and there were only two people in the living room. Xu Qing caught Jiang He’s gaze and inexplicably felt she was itching to pin him down again.

“It’s just casual photos, capturing your changes,” she said.

As for being afraid… deep down, there was indeed a trace of worry, which was why he subconsciously took extra photos and videos of her.

Xu Wenbin came out with his phone, effectively stopping an impending incident—preventing Jiang He from tasting the apple in Xu Qing’s mouth.

“I know,” Jiang He murmured softly, taking a big bite of the apple, savoring its crisp sweetness, and placing the fruit knife back on the plate.

Seeing each other every day, why bother taking so many photos?

“There are a lot of duplicates here. I don’t see what’s so great about them… just like those random things you make,” Xu Wenbin muttered as he sat on the couch. Glancing at Jiang He happily eating fruit, he unconsciously softened his tone and refrained from saying anything too harsh, swallowing a heap of criticisms.

“It’s called 鬼畜 (guichu, a type of remix video). Only those who understand it know the fun,” Xu Qing explained.

“You’re stuck with all that ancient stuff—it’s useless. The world is advancing rapidly, with new cultural trends everywhere…” Xu Qing started explaining the origins of 鬼畜 to the old man, with Jiang He listening intently, taking occasional bites of her apple.

She had long wondered how Xu Qing seemed to know everything. No matter the question, he always had a well-rounded answer.

After using computers more often, Jiang He finally realized: it was all thanks to that magical device—anything you searched for was there.

But after a long time of learning, she changed her mind again. Even if computers had all the answers, you still needed to study them. Xu Qing was different—he himself seemed to be a living Baidu, and even better than Baidu.

Jiang He slowed her chewing, trying not to make any noise. Listening to Xu Qing talk always had an inexplicable charm—far more engaging than lying on the roof as a child, basking in the sun, and overhearing the accountant grumble.

Zhou Suzhi peeked out from the kitchen, surprised by the scene in the living room. What did Xu Wenbin and Xu Qing discuss in the study last time? She was dying of curiosity, but Xu Wenbin refused to tell her, often holding his phone with an annoyed look while watching Xiao Po Zhan (Small Broken Site, referring to Bilibili).

Jiang He’s outfit was too nice, so Zhou Suzhi insisted on preparing lunch alone. When the food was ready, she called everyone to wash up and eat. Xu Qing patted his hands clean and stood up to help with the chopsticks and bowls.

“Take something like Zhuge Liang scolding Wang Lang—that’s more normal. But all those other bizarre edits? Even I think they’re a mess. Still, there’s good and bad—it’s the same everywhere. You can’t just focus on the bad stuff. It’s just entertainment; watch what you like and skip what you don’t,” Xu Qing explained.

“Obviously. Why would I watch things I don’t like?” Xu Wenbin retorted stubbornly. “Watching stuff you don’t like—what’s the point?”

“Exactly,” Zhou Suzhi cut in, calling Jiang He to eat and not pay attention to the two men.

Plenty of people do things that make no sense. Xu Wenbin was relatively normal; he only watched because Xu Qing was into it.

After lunch, it was already close to one in the afternoon. The day had grown even hotter, though a light breeze brought some relief. The trees in the residential complex had sprouted new leaves, casting large patches of shade.

“Let’s stop by Uncle Qin’s place,” Xu Qing suggested. He’d planned this during his morning stroll. After a brief walk around the complex, they headed to Qin’s home.

The modest room remained unchanged, though the balcony now featured a reclining chair. Qin Maocai often lounged there when he had nothing to do, swaying gently with a worn palm fan in hand, keeping company with Xiongba (his dog).

Before Qin Hao started working, Xu Qing often came by to play games or listen to music in Qin Hao’s tiny, dingy room. Occasionally, Qin Maocai would whip up some cold dishes and peanuts to pair with drinks, sharing stories of the past.

“Now everyone’s either working or busy with their own stuff,” Qin Maocai sighed as he poured two cups of tea. “Thankfully, I’ve got the dog.”

“Once you’re holding a grandson, things will be better,” Xu Qing teased, a comment that sent shivers down Qin Hao’s spine all the way at the police station.

“Grandson, my foot!” Qin Maocai snorted. He had no hope for Qin Hao.

Though the blind dates had gone smoothly, the relationship had been stagnant for months. Every time he asked, Qin Hao claimed they were “still talking.”

“I’m starting to think that kid’s pulling one over on me,” he muttered.

“Pulling what? He wouldn’t have a fake girlfriend, would he?”

“Who knows? You’re well aware of that kid—he’s sneaky like you. Looks honest but can be sly.”

“What do you mean, ‘like me’? I’m a decent person!” Xu Qing protested.

For instance, he’d never taught Jiang He to pin him down, yet she’d mastered it without any guidance.

“Right?” he asked Jiang He, expecting her to vouch for him.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Jiang He said, meeting his expectations.

“Already siding with him, huh? Eh…” Qin Maocai smirked. If Jiang He weren’t there, he would’ve quipped, “Good men don’t get good wives; scoundrels marry the beauties,” as irrefutable proof that Xu Qing wasn’t all that good.

“My girlfriend, Jiang He, such a wonderful girl liking me is proof of my excellence,” Xu Qing said shamelessly, making Jiang He edge away from him, her head down as she picked at her fingers.

“Jiang He, huh? Such a grand name,” Qin Maocai said, just like Xu Qing had misheard before, thinking her name sounded like “Great River.”

“She’s just a little sprout,” Xu Qing corrected.

“Miss, what do you even see in him? This kid’s had thick skin since he was little. Don’t let him fool you,” Qin Maocai joked.

Jiang He thought for a moment, recalling how Xu Qing interacted with others, then mimicked his tone: “Hmm… I like how thick-skinned he is.”

“Hahaha!” Qin Maocai burst out laughing, pointing at Xu Qing. “You, huh…”

Xu Qing chuckled along, his gaze on Jiang He, marveling at how much she’d grown.

Just a few months ago, during New Year, she answered questions stiffly. Now, she was quick-witted and humorous. His plan was working—falling in love had been the lever to pry open her guarded heart. Once she learned to express one emotion, the rest followed naturally, enriching her emotional world.

“You didn’t take after Old Xu at all. I don’t know how you turned out like this,” Qin Maocai remarked.

“That’s not true. My dad and I are alike in one way,” Xu Qing countered.

“Oh? Just your looks, maybe,” Qin Maocai teased.

“No, we both love antiques,” Xu Qing said mysteriously.

“Antiques?”

“Yep, the older, the better,” Xu Qing confirmed.

Though one liked living ones, while the other preferred digging up the dead.

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