“Are Jiang Qiu and Jiang Xue not at home today?”
Su Luo looked at Mother Jiang across from her, full of surprise.
“How can that be? Weren’t they still here when we called to confirm this morning?”
“I’m sorry, we only just found out. If we had known earlier, we would have told you in advance.”
Mother Jiang sighed and said.
Hearing this, Su Luo glanced at Song Zhao Ye beside her, then at the troubled expression on Mother Jiang’s face. After thinking for a moment, she said, “Only just found out? What do you mean by that?”
“Well…”
Mother Jiang elegantly picked up her tea and took a sip.
“We only just found out that Jiang Li and Jiang Yu have taken these two children to Nanxi.”
?
Su Luo and Song Zhao Ye were both stunned. It took them a moment to snap out of it.
So Jiang Qiu and Jiang Xue had gone to see their father and mother.
Meanwhile, on the subway heading to Nanxi, Jiang Li and Jiang Yu each bought two cups of milk tea, drinking while watching the two children sitting on their laps.
Jiang Qiu, sitting on Jiang Yu’s thigh, was holding a smart drawing board, grinning as he continuously drew all kinds of strange monsters on it.
When the board was full, he pressed a button below with his chubby hand, and all the monsters vanished in an instant.
Then he tirelessly started drawing again, his energy seemingly endless.
But Jiang Xue, sitting on Jiang Li’s thigh, was different.
That child seemed indifferent to everything, lazily drooping her eyes, her back leaning against Jiang Li’s belly like a little sloth, as if she could fall asleep at any moment.
The situation with these twins was a bit strange.
It was as if Jiang Qiu, the older brother, had taken all of Jiang Xue’s energy—one was full of vitality, the other listless.
However, Jiang Xue did have moments when she perked up.
At the grabbing ceremony a year ago, Jiang Qiu grabbed a paintbrush, and Jiang Xue grabbed a cookie.
After that, they basically confirmed two things: Jiang Qiu liked drawing, and Jiang Xue really loved eating.
“Little Xue’er, want a cookie?”
Jiang Li took out a cookie even a 2-year-old could eat, broke off a small piece, and brought it close to Jiang Xue.
The next second, Jiang Xue, who had been drowsy, twitched her little nose slightly. Her eyes weren’t even open yet, but her soul had already followed the cookie.
Wherever the cookie went, Jiang Xue’s mouth followed, just like a cat chasing a feather wand.
Seeing his older sister playing with her niece like fishing, Jiang Yu smiled helplessly.
By the way, his older sister had been preparing for pregnancy recently.
“Speaking of which, sis, taking these two kids to find brother and sister-in-law without saying anything—won’t it make them angry?”
“It’s already done. Is worrying about that useful now?”
Seeing that her younger brother still had concerns, Jiang Li couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him.
“Besides, don’t you want to see Sang Tian?”
Hearing this, Jiang Yu instinctively wanted to reply, “That’s true,” but following that train of thought, he saw through her real motive.
“Oh~ So you’re the one who wants to see Xie Zhuran, sis?”
Jiang Li neither denied nor admitted it. She just fed the cookie to her niece, then picked up her phone and began probing her boyfriend indirectly.
After asking around, Jiang Li turned to look at her younger brother, who had already snatched his nephew’s paintbrush and was drawing a big octopus on the smart drawing board. She held her forehead and said, “Brother Zhuran said they’re all stuck at the studio by their advisor.”
“Then should we go to the school and find them directly?”
Jiang Yu stopped drawing.
Jiang Li thought about it seriously but shook her head conservatively, saying it was better to wait outside the school or go to the rental apartment to wait.
“Huh?”
Jiang Yu widened his eyes, a bit puzzled.
“Sis, from what you said earlier, I thought you were confident that brother and the others wouldn’t be angry.”
“Turns out you’re not confident at all—even a little scared?”
Hearing this, Jiang Li’s face remained expressionless.
‘Sure enough, this little brother is a dangerous person. What’s he trying to do with reverse psychology at a time like this?’
She wasn’t falling for it.
“Anyway, let’s play it safe.”
“But sis, aren’t you curious what Xie Zhuran looks like in the studio right now?”
Jiang Yu pressed on.
Jiang Li turned her face to look at him. ‘This kid, have his wings grown stiff?’
She decisively reached out a small hand, intending to smack the back of his head.
Just then, the small TV on the subway started playing a recently popular drama.
“Darling!”
Song Qiuyu’s original voice rang out from the small TV.
!
All eight ears perked up at once.
The owners of those ears turned to look.
There, on the TV screen, was Song Qiuyu’s obedient, pure face.
She was dressed in simple black clothes, wearing a black veil, at her deceased husband’s funeral, quietly crying in front of his photograph.
That deceased husband was played by Jiang Xiao, and the black-and-white photo was naturally Jiang Xiao’s.
Jiang Li and Jiang Yu could completely separate reality from the drama. They were quite familiar with the plot and the roles the two played.
The whole drama was roughly a spy war story set in the Republic of China, taking place in Magic City.
The husband played by Jiang Xiao was only pretending to be dead at this point. Later, he would appear before Song Qiuyu, his wife, in an identity she couldn’t imagine.
Even so, perhaps because their sister-in-law cried so emotionally, even though they knew it was just acting, they couldn’t help but feel their noses sting and a little urge to cry.
But Jiang Qiu and Jiang Xue, the two kids—clearly, they were different.
They almost instantly recognized their parents on TV.
Seeing their mother crying over their father’s picture, young Jiang Qiu naturally didn’t understand what it meant, but his nose already soured. Tears piled up in his little eyes, and then—wah!—he started crying loudly along with her.
Once Jiang Qiu cried, it was as if Jiang Xue’s emotions connected. Within a few breaths, she began to sob softly, and then—wah!—she also started crying loudly.
For a moment, the entire subway was filled with the children’s piercing cries.
“Uh…”
More and more gazes landed on Jiang Li and Jiang Yu, making them feel as if they were sitting on pins. They wished they could grab the kids and rush off the subway right then.
They hastily tried to soothe the two children.
When they confirmed they couldn’t calm them down, they simply pulled out pacifiers and stuffed them directly into the kids’ mouths.
But the pacifiers only blocked the babies’ mouths. The water in Jiang Qiu and Jiang Xue’s eyes grew even thicker. Their chubby cheeks puffed up like blowfish. The next second, the pacifiers shot out like projectiles, hitting the faces of two innocent bystanders in front of them.
Both Jiang Li and Jiang Yu were dumbfounded. How had this made things worse?
They suddenly thought of Mother Jiang, who usually took care of the two children at home. Deep down, they couldn’t help but feel a deep respect for her.
They immediately apologized to the innocent bystanders.
Fortunately, the crying scene on TV ended right after.
And so, the whole subway returned to silence.
“Finally stopped crying.”
“Thank goodness…”
Looking at their nephew and niece, who seemed to have cried themselves to sleep, Jiang Li and Jiang Yu lowered their heads and sighed in relief.
Taking care of kids was so tiring.
This suffering—they definitely needed their brother and sister-in-law to taste it themselves.
At that moment, Song Qiuyu and Jiang Xiao still had no idea that two people were bringing two little demons to them. They were busy in the studio with their advisor’s tasks.
This studio was for a campus youth romance drama, adapted from a currently very popular campus romance manga.
But this campus romance wasn’t a simple love story. It was set within a supernatural horror escape.
The students at the school had to constantly face the pseudo-humans on campus while also engaging in love and romance—because the manga had a rule: pseudo-humans had no hearts!
Thus, love and romance were just a part of their method for finding pseudo-humans.
“Once we finish shooting this scene, we can get lunch, and you can go back to rest first. So don’t give up!”
The advisor, acting as the director of this studio, said this to all the staff.
“Yes…”
Song Qiuyu said listlessly.
Not just her—everyone looked like they were about to drop dead from exhaustion.
“Louder! You didn’t eat lunch, did you?”
The advisor frowned and boomed.