With that cheerful mood, Ye Qingyang took the bus back home.
This time, Ye Hong didn’t lock the door behind him, so Ye Qingyang easily opened it and stepped inside.
Ye Hong was preparing dinner, and seeing him return, she immediately got angry.
“So capable now, huh? Learned something new? Even learned to steal things from home!”
Ye Qingyang blinked, completely baffled. “I didn’t.”
“Wasn’t the food in your sister’s room taken by you? The instant noodles in the kitchen—weren’t they yours too?”
At this moment, she noticed the instant noodles were gone—finally reacting slowly.
Ye Qingyang internally rolled his eyes but put on a pitiful expression.
“Yes, I took some snacks from my sister’s room, but I left a note. As for the noodles in the kitchen… Aunt, you locked the kitchen door yesterday, and I definitely didn’t go in this morning. How could I have taken them?”
Ye Hong snorted sarcastically. “Who knows, huh? You’re so capable now.”
“I had no choice. I have no money, and you wouldn’t let me eat, so I had to take a little from my sister’s snacks.”
“That’s a little? You call that a little? You’re taking and eating!”
Ye Hong got angrier, rushing over to hit him.
Ye Qingyang sighed, mentally exhausted. Why did she remember the food but not the hits?
How many times had she actually hit him? Never really—he always ended up getting scolded or teased, and yet she persisted.
In that regard, Ye Hong and “Ye Qingyang” really did resemble a true aunt and nephew.
Ye Qingyang calmly dodged until he smelled something burning and reminded her, “Aunt, is your food burning?”
Ye Hong immediately stopped mid-swing, shouting, “My pan!” and rushed anxiously to the kitchen.
Ye Qingyang smiled, finding her utterly ridiculous.
He reached to twist the handle of Ye Hong’s room—locked.
Then he tried Wang Hui’s room—also locked.
Of course. After two tries, even someone as foolish as Ye Hong would know to lock doors. But no matter; Ye Qingyang looked at Wang Fan’s room.
That was originally his room.
Tonight, he’d sleep there.
Smiling, he walked toward the balcony to temporarily rest.
But as he stepped onto the balcony, he noticed the floor was unusually slippery.
He looked down: the floor was gleaming, as if freshly polished, and a few inconspicuous thumbtacks lay scattered.
Ah, so that’s where they were waiting for him.
Not bad—finally, some foresight!
Ye Qingyang felt pleased and carefully stepped onto the balcony, pulling out his homework to symbolically work on it.
Ye Hong had waited a long time but, seeing no screams, peeked from the kitchen.
The balcony was calm, just as it always was.
Strange. She had tested it—easy to slip—so why was Ye Qingyang unharmed?
Perplexed, with the meal unfinished, she returned to cooking.
When Wang Hui arrived, Ye Qingyang had just finished his homework.
Staying in character as a low-achieving student, he only partially completed each worksheet. Don’t ask—if he aced everything, he wouldn’t be a “failing student,” right?
As he put away his worksheets, Wang Hui entered, carrying her bag.
Seeing him at home, she rushed to the balcony, scolding as she walked:
“Ye Qingyang, you little bastard! How dare you steal my things? Are you even human? And this face—don’t want it, huh? Fine, I’ll tear it off!”
She stomped onto the balcony, and suddenly lost her balance, tilting backward.
Ye Qingyang reacted faster than he thought and caught her before she fell. “Sister, are you okay?”
Wang Hui raised her hand to slap him. Ye Qingyang sighed. Calmly, he let go and stepped back as her hand swung.
“Smack!” She fell, the thumbtack piercing her jeans and pricking her thigh.
Ye Qingyang: …
Who could she blame? As the saying goes, “Heaven’s misdeeds may be forgiven, but self-inflicted ones bring ruin.”
He had saved her out of concern for the child, and she still wanted to hit him? Truly asking for trouble.
“Ah!” Wang Hui yelped, clutching the balcony door and glancing fearfully at her stomach.
Thankfully, when Ye Qingyang caught her, she was already close to the ground. Even after he let go, the baby remained unharmed.
She exhaled, sweat beading on her forehead.
Ye Qingyang saw her expression and thought: serves you right.
What kind of mother is this? Neglecting her child, worried about herself, and still wanting to hit people? Her child is in for a world of suffering.
Wang Hui steadied herself, glaring at Ye Qingyang and preemptively shouting:
“Ye Qingyang! What’s all this on the floor?! So slippery! Are you trying to kill me and my son?!”
Ye Qingyang: “…Big sister, I’m your son’s savior! If I hadn’t caught you just then, who knows if your baby would even be safe!”
“Stop pretending to care! You only saved me because you did this yourself and felt guilty, right?!”
Ye Qingyang: …
He grabbed a small stool behind him. “Come on, straighten your belly. I could now crush your baby with zero guilt, or we can redo the scenario. Step forward confidently—fall all you want. I won’t help, won’t even blink, and will clap, praising your fall!”
Wang Hui: …
He waved the stool. “Hit or fall?”
Wang Hui: …
“Who else could it be?” she shouted. “It’s your mess, not someone else’s!”
Ye Qingyang put down the stool and pointed to the balcony clutter, changing his tone:
“This is usually where Aunt puts things. She leaves all sorts of stuff here, so it’s messy. I live here, so it’s fine. But you, with a baby, shouldn’t come here. Look, you fell.”
Wang Hui looked at the mess. He was right—the balcony was always filled with Ye Hong’s stuff and never cleaned. Since Ye Qingyang lived here, they didn’t bother.
She had been outsmarted here today.
Fuming, she shouted at Ye Hong, “Mom! Can you pay attention? Stop dumping everything on the balcony! You treating this like a landfill? Do I have to fall and get hurt before you care?!”
Ye Hong, cooking behind a closed door, didn’t hear and ignored her.
Wang Hui, furious, tried to stand and confront her, but the slippery floor and her pregnancy prevented her from rising.
“You just standing there? Can’t help me?” Wang Hui reached her hand, as if granting him an honor.
Ye Qingyang shook his head, leaning against the wall with a smooth tone: “I dare not—I feel guilty.”
Wang Hui: “You didn’t do it! Guilty of what?!”
“Stop pretending. I only helped because it was my doing. Right, sister?”
Wang Hui: …
“Fine, fine, don’t help me! I’ll get up myself.”
She struggled to rise, hands and feet in motion.
Ye Qingyang, hands in pockets, watched her comically stiff attempts, suppressing laughter, and cheered: “Come on, sister! You can do it! Now you look like a little frog, ribbit, ribbit, ribbit~”
Just as she steadied herself, she almost slipped again from anger at his mockery.
She shot him a glare, then slowly, stiffly, and ridiculously walked out of the balcony.
Ye Qingyang clapped. “Congratulations, sister! You made it up!”
Wang Hui, fuming, reached to hit him.
Ye Qingyang feigned shock, falling onto the sofa, and casually kicked a small stool beside it.
Wang Hui tripped slightly, almost falling again.
She hurriedly stabilized herself, feeling some discomfort in her stomach, glared at Ye Qingyang, and scolded:
“Shameless! When your parents left, why didn’t they take you too? Who even likes you in this house? Trash, disgusting—you should just leave, die already.”
Ye Qingyang feigned surprise: “Sister! How can you say that? You’re my blood-related sister!”
“Bah! Who the hell is your sister? Stop clinging to this! You jinx!”
Ye Qingyang lowered his head, appearing obedient: “Sister, you have a baby—how can you say such things?”
Wang Hui patted her belly proudly. “My son is different from you—you’re an unwanted orphan, a freeloader, an outsider! My son is the treasure of this family, has parents, and is far nobler than you.”
She finished, and her precious son seemed to stir a little. Wang Hui frowned, holding her stomach, and walked to her room.
Ye Qingyang, seeing her leave, took out his phone to check the recording he had just made, glancing at his fresh evidence and chuckling. Fool.
At the balcony doorway, thinking of Wang Hui struggling there, he laughed.
Ye Hong definitely didn’t expect her little scheme to backfire—her plot hadn’t hurt him, but ended up causing trouble for her own daughter.
That’s karma. Cause and effect. Sweet revenge.