Qin Wangchuan, Let's Get Married

Having found his direction for the future, Fan Yuan was no longer lost and immediately took his leave, wanting to go back home.

Before leaving.

Qin Wangchuan suddenly remembered something and called out to him.

"That person hasn't been found yet?"

That person, of course, refers to the bandit who killed Qin Rang.

The man is dead, and the revenge is complete.

Fan Yuan immediately bent down.

"Soaring Tower has already begun its covert investigation."

"Rest assured, sir, finding him is only a matter of time."

Qin Wangchuan didn't say anything more, he just nodded slightly.

Upon seeing this, Fan Yuan bowed again, then turned and left the courtyard.

--

On the courtyard wall.

Qin Zhaoer, who had somehow ended up halfway up Fan Yuan's body, propped her chin up and lazily watched his receding figure.

Until that figure completely disappeared at the alley entrance.

She turned her head and her gaze fell on the boy sitting upright on the stone bench in the courtyard.

"Not only did they help him so much, they also sent him a powerful force."

"What a merciful God."

Qin Wangchuan closed the medical book and slowly stood up.

"Not exactly merciful."

"What I did for him was, in essence, also for myself."

"With such a powerful force, we'll have fewer worries in the future."

Qin Zhaoer pursed her lips after hearing this.

"Whispering sound."

Qin Wangchuan ignored him.

He simply closed the book on traditional Chinese medicine, slowly got up, and walked into the house.

The time has come to forge the blacksmith.

"Etc--"

Upon seeing this, Qin Zhaoer shrank back from the wall and disappeared on the other side in the blink of an eye.

A moment later.

The courtyard gate was gently pushed open, and she walked in carrying a plate.

"Try it."

"Freshly made, while it's hot."

There were several plump, white steamed buns on the plate, with wisps of steam still rising.

Qin Wangchuan glanced at it as he took it.

"You did this?"

"Um!"

Qin Zhaoer tilted her chin up, looking smug as if she was about to praise me.

Qin Wangchuan didn't say anything, but casually picked one up and took a bite as he walked away.

She put her hands behind her back, leaned forward slightly, and stared intently at his profile as he chewed.

Don't say it.

It's quite satisfying to watch others eat the food I made myself.

I'm starting to like this feeling.

But the next moment.

The moment my teeth closed, there was a click as something hard pressed against them.

Qin Wangchuan paused in his chewing, shook his head, and looked at the girl beside him with a hint of helplessness.

There were bones in the minced meat.

"And it's not small either."

In his memory, this was already the umpteenth time; he himself had lost count.

Last time the noodles were too mushy.

The last time, the soup was too salty.

This time, it's Baozi's turn.

So be it.

It's already quite rare that the tyrannical demon king in the Immortal Court, who never lifts a finger, is willing to cook in this small courtyard.

Asking her to be particular about cooking time and nitpick in the kitchen would really be asking too much of her.

Qin Wangchuan would never say such a thing aloud.

"Ah?"

Qin Zhaoer stared in disbelief, her eyes wide open.

"That's impossible!"

"I removed all the bones before cutting the meat!"

As she spoke, she moved a little closer.

"I'll try it."

Qin Wangchuan casually handed over the plate of steamed buns.

But Qin Zhaoer didn't answer at all.

She raised her hand, hooked it around his wrist, and brought it to her lips—

He took a straight bite, right where he had just bitten.

Its cheeks were puffed out round, like a little squirrel caught stealing food but trying to act innocent.

I chewed it twice.

"Puff."

He spat out a small piece of bone.

"... There really is."

She wiped her mouth with a serious expression and argued, "But there are a few small bones inside."

"But the taste is actually not bad, right?"

They were confident and self-assured, without a hint of guilt.

It was as if that astonishing act just now was not her doing.

Qin Wangchuan glanced at her, and seeing that her expression was normal, he didn't take her little action to heart.

I just assumed it was a moment of impatience, and I forgot my limits.

"It tastes better than last time; at least it doesn't have that weird smell anymore," he said casually.

"Right!"

Upon hearing this, Qin Zhaoer almost wagged her tail.

They completely missed the subtle sarcasm in his words.

Instead, he straightened his body and became more smug.

The dress was already form-fitting.

With her back straightened and lifted, her breasts appeared even fuller, causing her clothes to undulate.

"I have made progress!"

Qin Wangchuan's gaze swept lightly over her chest, his expression unchanged.

"... There has indeed been progress."

Whether it's cooking skills or anything else.

They've all made significant progress.

The thought had barely crossed my mind when I looked up and saw that smiling little face.

'The most significant progress...'

'I guess that's just his nature.'

Hopefully, this trial will be helpful to Eighth Sister.

I'll think about it.

Qin Wangchuan didn't say anything more, turned around and continued walking towards the backyard.

Behind me.

The smugness on Qin Zhaoer's face gradually faded.

She reached out and gently touched her lips, then glanced at the boy's back in front of her.

An angle that no one can see.

A slight smile curved her lips.

We arrived at the backyard.

Qin Wangchuan stopped in front of the workbench and took another one from the plate.

I took a bite.

The moment his teeth snapped shut, his brow furrowed slightly, instinctively bracing himself for biting into bone fragments again.

But this time...

The minced meat is delicate, with not a single hard piece.

He paused, a slight look of surprise on his face.

"... This one has no bones."

That is...

Qin Zhaoer immediately puffed out her chest and said smugly, "I told you I've been meticulous; that was just an accident!"

Qin Wangchuan didn't say anything more and finished his meal in peace.

He ate it even though he knew there might be bones in it.

She didn't say anything when she saw this, but a sweet feeling secretly welled up inside her.

Finish the last one.

Qin Wangchuan casually placed the plate on the low stool next to the stove.

That was the spot where Qin Zhaoer usually sat watching him forge iron.

With one hand he took the hammer, and with the other he took the unfinished sword blank from the workbench yesterday and put it into the furnace.

He then straightened up, opened the stove, and started a fire.

Flames licked the iron body inch by inch, turning the half-finished sword blank a deep red.

It was at this time.

I heard soft footsteps behind me.

Qin Zhaoer walked to the low stool, bent down, took the plate off the stool, and gently placed it at her feet.

Then she sat down on the stool, rested her chin on her hand, and watched him forge iron.

One put down.

One is hidden.

No one said anything.

That was an unspoken understanding.

The fire in the stove gradually ignited.

The sunlight warmed the faces of the two people in the courtyard.

Only the soft crackling of the stove fire remained in the courtyard.

And the sound of the hammer falling, one strike after another.

Qin Zhaoer sat on a low stool, watching the faint red glow of the firelight reflecting on his profile.

Watching him raise his arm and then steadily bring the hammer down in an arc.

Looking at his sweat-drenched temples and his Golden Eyes that gleamed in the firelight.

Look, look.

She gradually became engrossed.

All surrounding sounds receded into the distance.

Firelight, the sound of metal, and the soft rustling of Jujube Tree leaves in the courtyard.

It's like there's a layer of water between us.

Only the silhouette of the boy before her, outlined by the firelight, was imprinted inch by inch into her eyes.

"Qin Wangchuan."

Let's get married.

The instant the sound faded.

Qin Zhaoer suddenly came to her senses.

He froze on the low stool, forgetting even to breathe.