115: Chapter 115 Mom Serves You Porridge

Li Cheng had downed seven or eight bottles of beer, and his mouth was no longer under the control of his brain.

Jiang Fan took out his phone and called a designated driver.

He didn't dare to be careless about this.

He knew better than anyone how he had died in his past life.

When the designated driver arrived, Jiang Fan dragged and shoved Li Cheng into the passenger seat.

Li Cheng's head lolled to the side, and he was still muttering, "Brother Fan… Xu Qingya… you have to treat her well…"

"I know. Fasten your seatbelt."

Jiang Fan gave the address to the driver and watched the taillights turn the corner and disappear into the night.

By the side of the road, the night breeze blew over, mixed with the oily smoke from the barbecue stalls.

His alcohol tolerance was average, and he hadn't drunk as much as Li Cheng.

His mind was still clear, but the soles of his feet felt a bit floaty.

He hailed a cab and gave the address of his apartment.

——

It was nearly eleven o'clock when he arrived downstairs.

In the elevator, Jiang Fan lowered his head and sniffed himself.

He was covered in the smell of barbecue and alcohol.

He pushed open the door to Shen Nian's home.

The room was lit with warm-colored lights, and the faint fragrance of white porridge drifted from the direction of the kitchen.

Shen Nian poked half of her head out from the kitchen.

Her hair was casually pinned up with a claw clip, and she wore a white spaghetti-strap nightgown that barely reached the middle of her thighs.

She saw Jiang Fan swaying as he stumbled in.

She wiped her hands, trotted up to him, folded her hands in front of her lower abdomen, bowed slightly, and put on an exaggeratedly kind smile.

"Oh my—my dear big son is back."

Jiang Fan froze in the middle of changing his shoes.

"Mom is going to serve you some porridge. Drinking alcohol hurts your stomach; go wash your hands quickly."

Her tone was perfectly mimicked—all she was missing was a floral apron and a head of curly hair.

Jiang Fan looked up at her.

Was this really Shen Nian?

The Shen Nian who would blush when talking to him?

The person in front of him sounded exactly like a fifty-year-old neighborhood committee auntie.

Jiang Fan took half a step back, pointed his finger at her, and raised his voice:

"No matter who you are—get out of Shen Nian's body immediately."

Shen Nian couldn't hold it in anymore.

She bent over, laughing so hard she slapped her thigh, and finally got out of breath, leaning against the edge of the dining table to recover for a long while.

"You should go act in movies," Jiang Fan said, kicking his shoes into the cabinet. "It's a waste to be in the music industry."

"Didn't you call me Mom?" Shen Nian straightened up and rolled her eyes. "Then I'll be your mom for once."

After saying that, she turned and went back to the kitchen.

She scooped a bowl of porridge from the pot, the goji berries and red dates boiled until soft and tender, and set it on the dining table.

She also casually placed a pair of chopsticks and a small dish of her own pickled vegetables.

"Hurry up and eat. Did Li Cheng get home?"

"The designated driver took him."

"At least you knew to call a designated driver." Shen Nian pulled out a chair and sat opposite him, resting her arms on the table. "I thought you two would drink until dawn."

"Li Cheng couldn't handle it; he collapsed after seven or eight bottles."

"What about you? How much did you drink?"

"I drank one case, and it wasn't enough, so I opened another."

Shen Nian scanned him up and down.

"That's all the ambition you have."

Jiang Fan picked up the bowl and took a sip of the porridge.

The temperature was just right, the goji berries were soft, and the sweetness seeped into the rice soup, warming his stomach.

"Mmm, it's good."

The corners of Shen Nian's mouth twitched, and she rested her chin on one hand, watching him drink the porridge.

"Smell yourself, you stink to death."

Jiang Fan looked at her while drinking the porridge.

The light fell from above, landing on the back of her neck, which was exposed after she pinned her hair up.

The curve below her collarbone rose and fell slightly with her breathing.

Shen Nian felt uncomfortable under his gaze and reached out to push the bowl.

"What are you looking at? Drink your porridge."

Jiang Fan didn't move.

Under the light, the skin on the back of her neck was blindingly white.

The effects of alcohol are unpredictable; you never know when it will hit you.

Once it hit him, his eyes stopped listening to him.

He put down the bowl, stood up, grabbed Shen Nian's wrist, and pulled her up from the chair.

Shen Nian let out an "Ah."

Before she could steady herself, she crashed into his arms.

The smell of barbecue, the smell of beer, and the body heat stimulated by the alcohol all surged over.

Shen Nian's face was buried in his chest, her nose wrinkled tightly.

"You go take a shower first—"

"What shower?"

Jiang Fan lowered his head, his lips pressed against her earlobe.

"Jiang Fan, you've had too much to drink."

Shen Nian raised her foot and stepped on him.

She was barefoot, stepping on the top of his foot, with no real force behind it.

"Let go of me! You smell like everything—"

Jiang Fan ignored her words completely.

He hooked his finger into the spaghetti strap and pulled, then turned her around and pressed her onto the dining table.

"Jiang Fan—!"

"Call me Daddy."

"In your dreams!"

"Are you going to call me that or not?"

"No—ah…"

Shen Nian's voice suddenly rose an octave.

The dining table shook violently—clatter.

The bowl overturned, rolled directly onto the floor, and smashed into pieces.

She was sprawled on the tabletop, a thin layer of sweat seeping out on her shoulders, her voice so small it almost disappeared.

"…Daddy."

Jiang Fan's movements paused for a moment.

He reached out and brushed away the hair scattered on the side of her face.

Shen Nian was tense all over.

"Don't move…" Her voice was muffled, with a hint of a sob at the end.

Jiang Fan didn't speak, leaning down close to her ear.

"Call it again."

Shen Nian bit her lower lip and didn't make a sound for a long time.

Jiang Fan's fingers pinched her waist lightly.

Shen Nian shivered.

"…Daddy."

This time it was even softer, almost squeezed out from between her teeth in a breathy whisper.

——

Shen Nian stood at the bathroom door, hands on her hips.

Her spaghetti strap was skewed to one side, most of her hair was loose, and there were tear stains on her face.

She looked both fierce and disheveled.

"Get in there and take a shower now. Otherwise, I'll smash that patek philippe of yours."

Jiang Fan chuckled and walked into the bathroom.

Shen Nian followed behind and pulled open the glass door of the shower stall.

"I'll wash you."

The showerhead was turned on, hot water poured down, and steam quickly covered the entire glass.

Shen Nian squeezed out some body wash and, on tiptoe, scrubbed his shoulders.

She was shorter, so it was difficult to reach; she used one hand to brace against his chest for leverage.

When her fingers slid over the tooth mark on his shoulder, her movements paused.

Water trickled down both their bodies.

Shen Nian's nightgown was already soaked through; the white fabric had become semi-transparent and clung to her body.

She was completely unaware, scrubbing him earnestly.

Jiang Fan leaned against the tiled wall, looking down at her as she busied herself.

"Teacher Shen is so attentive; maybe you should consider changing careers to become a professional scrubber."

Shen Nian's hand stopped.

The next second, she grabbed the showerhead and sprayed it directly at his face.

"Shut up."

Jiang Fan choked on the water, snatched the showerhead, and scooped her up by her waist.

Shen Nian's legs dangled in the air, and she hurriedly wrapped her arms around his neck in a panic.

"Put me down—"

"Who was just spraying me with the showerhead?"

"It's because your mouth is asking for it—"

Jiang Fan pressed her against the glass partition.

Shen Nian's back touched the cold glass, causing her whole body to shrink in a jolt.

Hot water fell from above, and the steam grew thicker and thicker.

——

When he carried Shen Nian to bed, she was already half-asleep.

Her eyelids were drooping, she mumbled something, turned over, and stopped moving.

Jiang Fan tucked the corner of the quilt for her and turned to leave the bedroom.

The living room was a mess.

Broken porcelain shards were scattered at the feet of the dining table, and there were traces of water and porridge on the tabletop. The table had shifted about twenty centimeters, and the anti-slip pad under one of the table legs had been knocked off.

He went to the kitchen to get a broom and a mop.

He first swept the broken porcelain into the trash can, then crouched down to carefully check every corner—Shen Nian always walked barefoot at home, and leaving a piece of shard to prick her was no small matter.

He wiped the tabletop. He pushed the dining table back to its original position.

By the time he finished all this, it was nearly one o'clock.

Jiang Fan returned to the bedroom, lifted the quilt, and lay down.

Shen Nian was already sleeping soundly, breathing evenly, her brows relaxed.

He reached out and brushed the few strands of hair stuck to her face behind her ear.

She hummed, turned over toward him, kicked her legs twice under the quilt, and found a position to drape them over him.

Jiang Fan closed his eyes.

The system panel lit up at the edge of his vision.

[ Deep Compatibility × 2, Lifespan Value + 1000 ]

[ Current Lifespan Value: 34600 points ]

[ Remaining Lifespan: 126 days ]

He stared at the string of numbers for two seconds.

He didn't interact with it and closed the panel directly.

The city outside the window hadn't completely quieted down; there was the sound of cars passing in the distance.

Jiang Fan pulled Shen Nian closer into his arms and closed his eyes.

Five minutes later, he fell asleep too.