My Mother-in-Law and I Became the Internet's Hottest Power Couple-Chapter 99
The so-called grape-flavored kiss is the kind you get after eating grape-flavored jelly.
Jiang Lan's phone slipped from her hand onto the carpet, and two jelly cups rolled away beside it. Just as she reached to pick them up, Lu Yicheng grabbed her wrist and kissed her.
It was supposed to be a light, fleeting kiss, but somehow it escalated.
Her hands were pinned down, Lu Yicheng’s leg pressed against hers, leaving Jiang Lan completely immobilized. The weight of him was heavy, and all she had done was drop a jelly—yet here she was, being kissed like this. She had no idea how long it lasted before Lu Yicheng finally pulled away, breathing heavily.
Lu Yicheng thought coming over to kiss Jiang Lan was just asking for trouble. He glanced down and muttered, "I’m going to the bathroom. Keep watching your show."
Only after Lu Yicheng disappeared into the bathroom did Jiang Lan retrieve her phone. The drama suddenly felt dull. She called out his name, "Lu Yicheng."
"Don’t rush me."
Jiang Lan went back to the show, but after a while, Lu Yicheng still hadn’t returned. The sound of running water from the bathroom was incessant. She turned up the volume, and it wasn’t until the on-screen couple started kissing that Lu Yicheng finally emerged.
He sat back down at the small desk to continue handling work matters.
"No more kissing today. I can’t take it, so don’t provoke me," Lu Yicheng said, unscrewing a water bottle and gulping down a large mouthful to steady himself.
Youth made it easy to lose control, and he couldn’t help it—one kiss was enough to set him off. He didn’t want to scare Jiang Lan.
Here they were, alone together, sharing the same bed, free to do whatever they wanted.
And yet, even kissing had to be restrained.
Especially at night. After Jiang Lan fell asleep, he’d have to take another cold shower. Lu Yicheng was practically bathing multiple times a day.
Jiang Lan pursed her lips. "I just dropped a jelly, and suddenly I’m the one provoking you? Fine, I won’t touch you then."
How was this her fault?
Ridiculous.
Jiang Lan was perfectly capable of keeping her hands to herself. At lunch, she even dodged the food Lu Yicheng tried to put in her bowl—petty and vindictive to the core.
Lu Yicheng frowned. "Why won't you eat the ribs I gave you? You just put them back. Are you disdaining me?"
Jiang Lan shot back, "You said it yourself—if I don’t touch you, you don’t touch me. At nap time, we’re drawing a line. Each to their own side. Cross it, and you’re a dog."
Lu Yicheng chuckled. "I never said you couldn’t touch me. Just… fine, no crossing the line. I sleep like a rock anyway. You’re the one who always clings to something."
Last night, he’d spent the entire evening as Jiang Lan’s personal body pillow. She’d burrowed into him like a little bear, wriggling away only to latch back onto him moments later. At night, she turned into the clingiest person alive.
Jiang Lan knew she had this habit. She could just wait for Lu Yicheng to fall asleep first—or skip the nap altogether.
After lunch, she paced around the room for a while.
Lu Yicheng lounged against the headboard. "Not sleeping?"
"You sleep. Why do you care? I’m not tired." Jiang Lan could endure sleepiness. What couldn’t she endure? Since when did Lu Yicheng get to kiss her whenever he wanted and then blame her for it?
She’d even eaten the jelly she dropped—the last grape-flavored one.
And then he kissed her, only to say afterward, "Don’t provoke me."
A person needed dignity.
Lu Yicheng sighed. "If you’re not sleeping, neither am I. I’ll stay up with you. Want to watch something or play a game?"
Who wanted to watch shows or play games in the middle of the day?
"Fine, let’s sleep. You’re so annoying." Jiang Lan climbed onto the bed and drew an imaginary line down the middle. "Remember, no crossing. Whoever does is a dog."
Lu Yicheng stretched an arm over the line. "Look, I crossed it. I’m a dog. Now come here and sleep. I’ll tell you a story, rub your shoulders—whatever you want. Just let me hold you."
Jiang Lan scoffed. "No way."
Lu Yicheng relented. "Truce for now? We can resume the war tonight."
Why waste a perfectly good afternoon nap with this nonsense?
From now on, he’d keep his mouth shut.
Jiang Lan conceded. "One truce. After we wake up, no touching."
Lu Yicheng agreed. "Deal. Now sleep. I’ll tell you a story."
Jiang Lan nestled into his chest, but the more she thought about it, the more indignant she felt. "Why do you get to kiss me and then say I provoked you? That makes no sense."
Lu Yicheng murmured, "Just looking at you is enough to provoke me. One glance, and I want to kiss you. One kiss, and I lose control. What am I supposed to do?"
Jiang Lan had been angry, but his words were oddly flattering. "Exaggeration. Since when does one look make you—"
Lu Yicheng cut in. "Since forever. And it’s not easy for me either."
He squeezed her hand. "It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. It’s just… ah, you wouldn’t understand. You’re such an idiot."
Who was he calling an idiot?
Jiang Lan knew plenty. She and Xu Xiang traded dirty jokes all the time.
If she ever collapsed on the street with her last breath, her dying act would be deleting her chat history with Xu Xiang.
Lu Yicheng probably knew less than she did. If she told him half the things she’d heard, it would scare him to death.
Lu Yicheng ruffled her hair. "What story do you want to hear?"
Jiang Lan tilted her head up, then poked his chest. "Hey… Lu Yicheng, do you know what ‘helping out’ means? Maybe I could… help you?"
The room fell silent. Outside, birds chirped. Lu Yicheng blinked, slow to process. "Huh?" ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
"Never mind. Let’s sleep." Jiang Lan yanked the covers over her head.
It took Lu Yicheng a full minute to grasp what she meant. "Wait—I didn’t catch that. Say it again. Are you serious? You know what ‘helping’ means, right? You’re not messing with me?"
Jiang Lan groaned. "I’m messing with you. Go to sleep."
"I think you’re too sweet to tease me like that. Come on, help me out." Lu Yicheng had been holding back for four years.
Add the year he’d secretly liked her before they got together, and he was practically a saint.
Outside, the scorching sun gave way to a sudden downpour. Rain lashed against the window, drenching the banana leaves, willow branches, and lilac trees. By evening, the storm had softened into a steady drizzle, the sound like a lover’s whisper.
Lu Yicheng was extra clingy that night. No work calls, no meetings—just lounging with Jiang Lan, watching dramas and scrolling through shopping apps.
His arm stayed wrapped around her waist, lips occasionally brushing her forehead.
His mind wasn’t on the show at all.
Jiang Lan could tell. Lu Yicheng didn’t actually like TV. He hated shopping, didn’t care about clothes—as long as he had something to wear, he was fine.
Most of his wardrobe was expensive, but he owned cheap pieces too. To him, price equaled quality.
Her phone played a fluffy romance, while his lingered on a shopping page.
In the era of big data, if I check Taobao again in a couple of days, the recommendations will probably all be bags and clothes.
"This one looks nice. Buy it." Lu Yicheng pointed to the most expensive item on the page—a bag priced at 76,000 yuan.
Jiang Lan said, "No, it's not that nice."
"Then this one." Without even asking this time, Lu Yicheng directly placed the order and paid—68,000 yuan, not much cheaper—and had it delivered to Jiang Lan's home.
Just like that, 68,000 yuan was gone.
Jiang Lan: "How are you so quick? I hadn’t even decided yet."
Lu Yicheng asked if she liked it. How could she not? It was such an expensive bag.
Jiang Lan admired the bag over and over, while Lu Yicheng remarked beside her, "Why aren’t you spending from the salary card I handed over to you?"
Lu Yicheng’s savings were substantial, with six digits. Jiang Lan had counted the zeros before, but she hadn’t touched a single cent. She had her own money—why would she spend his?
Besides, they weren’t even married yet. It didn’t feel right to spend his money.
Before Jiang Lan could respond,
Lu Yicheng continued, "Are you drawing a line between yours and mine? Hurry up and buy something. Show me what’s in your shopping cart."
Jiang Lan’s shopping cart was filled with random items she’d added just for fun, not things she actually intended to buy. "Lu Yicheng, stop being ridiculous. Just focus on the show."
Lu Yicheng said, "Then let’s buy some snacks. Watching shows calls for snacks. Or how about we go out to the supermarket?"
He really was full of whims. Jiang Lan replied, "It’s raining right now, you know."
Lu Yicheng persisted, "We have a car. Or we could go watch a movie. Do you want to play in the water? Splash around?"
Was Lu Yicheng a child? Did he have the mental age of a ten-year-old? What grown man still wanted to play in puddles?
Jiang Lan glared at him but admitted honestly, "I do."
The rain outside had lightened to a fine drizzle. Lu Yicheng handed Jiang Lan a jacket but only wore a short-sleeved shirt himself. When Jiang Lan scolded him, he just said, "I’m a man. I’m tough. You’re not."
"Don’t jinx yourself like that. Ugh."
"Seriously, I’m fine. I’m always healthy—hardly ever get sick. Sweetheart, the lotus flowers would look beautiful in this weather. Whether it rains tomorrow or not, let’s go see them, okay?" Lu Yicheng thought this weather was perfect not just for sleeping but also for admiring the rain and flowers. "After the lotus, we can have a lotus-themed meal. We could even go fishing—I’ll catch something for you."
"Fine, fine, we’ll go fishing." Jiang Lan sighed. "Lu Yicheng, you’re being so chatty today—so naggy and long-winded."
Lu Yicheng didn’t think he was being long-winded at all. "Am I? No way. I always talk like this. Move closer—you’re getting wet."
His umbrella was huge, easily covering both of them without any risk of one shoulder getting soaked.
He just wanted her to stand closer.
But since Jiang Lan kept splashing in puddles, Lu Yicheng’s pants and shoes ended up completely drenched.
It was only about 20 degrees outside, yet Lu Yicheng didn’t feel cold at all—his heart was burning. He wanted Jiang Lan to touch him; he really was that warm.
The supermarket was nearly empty. Jiang Lan grabbed two packs of instant noodles. "Lu Yicheng, I’ll cook these for you tonight."
"Sure, I’ll finish every bite." Lu Yicheng thought to himself, it didn’t matter if it was instant noodles—even if Jiang Lan made braised pork, he’d eat it.
He loved everything Teacher Xie cooked, so how bad could Jiang Lan’s instant noodles be?
The homestay had a small kitchen with pots and seasonings. They bought bowls and chopsticks at the supermarket, then Lu Yicheng washed the vegetables while Jiang Lan cooked. She started with a tomato base, then added milk and seasoning packets.
Once the broth was boiling, she added the noodles.
She also tossed in ham, a fried egg, and two slices of cheese before covering the pot to let it simmer. In no time, it was ready.
Jiang Lan had cooked two packs, and the aroma had been mouthwatering since she stir-fried the tomatoes—rich and milky.
It was irresistible.
Lu Yicheng said, "How is it so fragrant?"
"Of course—I’m a master at this. Hand me the bowls."
Lu Yicheng nodded. "The only thing I’ve had from you before was braised pork, and it was bitter."
Jiang Lan: "If I don’t remember it, then it wasn’t me. And I asked you about the instant noodles—you were the one who refused. Teacher Yu has had them before and loved them."
Lu Yicheng had no rebuttal. He swallowed hard and carried the two bowls inside. It really was delicious—he wasn’t just being polite. He finished every last bite.
"This is amazing. Can we have it again tomorrow?"
Jiang Lan: "No, it’s unhealthy. Instant noodles are junk food."
Lu Yicheng grinned. "I love junk food. I’ll eat anything you make. Right now, I kind of want to call Teacher Yu and tell her I finally got to taste your cooking."
Did Lu Yicheng even know the meaning of shame?
That night, Lu Yicheng quietly watched the show with Jiang Lan, behaving himself. When they slept, he held her gently. Jiang Lan noticed he felt unusually warm and touched his forehead—it was hotter than hers.
"Lu Yicheng, do you have a fever? You’re burning up."
Lu Yicheng: "Men naturally run hotter than women. Just go to sleep."
Jiang Lan was exhausted and quickly dozed off. But in the middle of the night, she woke up from the heat.
The person beside her was scorching.
She touched his forehead—it was blazing. So much for "naturally hotter." If not for her, Lu Yicheng would’ve cooked his own brain.
"Lu Yicheng, wake up. You have a fever."
Lu Yicheng groggily opened his eyes and pulled Jiang Lan closer. "N-no, I’m fine. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."
Sleep? Yeah, right.
"Wake up—I’m taking you to the hospital." Jiang Lan changed clothes, then roused Lu Yicheng again. At the hospital, his temperature was 38.4°C. After two IV drips, they finally returned.
By then, it was already 7 a.m.
"‘I’m tough,’ ‘naturally hotter’—why not just call yourself a furnace? Your brain was about to fry."
Lu Yicheng’s fever had subsided, but he was still weak.
He looked utterly drained.
Back in the room, he kept his mask on and slumped onto the bed, barely moving. "...And you’re still scolding me when I’m like this."
He glanced at Jiang Lan. "Still scolding."
So now she wasn’t even allowed to scold him? Jiang Lan boiled some water. "...Are you still feeling bad? What do you want for breakfast? I’ll go buy it."
Lu Yicheng sniffled. "I want the instant noodles you made."
He craved them right now—last night’s serving hadn’t been enough.
Lu Yicheng wondered if he’d gotten sick just to have another bowl.
Jiang Lan: "...Fine, I’ll make them. Anything else?"
Lu Yicheng: "No, just that. Can I get a kiss? Never mind, forget it."
He had a cold—he didn’t want to pass it to her.
Jiang Lan leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Just rest. Food will be ready soon."
Lu Yicheng dozed off again almost immediately. When Jiang Lan woke him later, he was disoriented, unaware he’d even fallen asleep.
After eating the noodles and sweating it out by noon, his fever finally broke completely.
Lu Yicheng really did have a strong constitution—he recovered fast.
Jiang Lan kept checking his temperature, and by noon it was 36.6°C.
But he still felt weak, his head heavy. Lu Yicheng murmured, "I still don't feel well."
He wrapped his arms around Jiang Lan’s waist—truthfully, he wasn’t that uncomfortable anymore. He just wanted to hold her, maybe exaggerate a little so she’d indulge him. Being sick meant he could eat instant noodles.
"I still want instant noodles for lunch," he said.
But Jiang Lan had already ordered stir-fried dishes for delivery. "That’s not healthy. Let’s have proper food. Let me check if you still have a fever."
Lu Yicheng tilted his head up for her to feel his forehead. "It’s cool now, not hot anymore."
He felt a little embarrassed. Jiang Lan was perfectly fine, yet here he was, feverish and needing her to take care of him.
In the middle of the night, he’d made her take him outside and even helped him change clothes.
But then again, he’d already embarrassed himself in front of her more times than he could count. One more instance wouldn’t make a difference.
"My arms are too weak," Lu Yicheng said. "Can you feed me?"
The sick deserved special treatment.
Jiang Lan didn’t mind feeding him, but—"Are you really so weak you can’t even hold chopsticks?"
Lu Yicheng sighed. "I just want you to feed me. But if you won’t, it’s fine."
He looked like a deflated balloon. If feeding him meant he’d eat more, she supposed she could humor him.
"Fine, I’ll feed you," Jiang Lan said. "Is this the first time I’ve done this? Should we commemorate it? Want to record it?"
Lu Yicheng wasn’t filming for that reason. Besides, he looked terrible right now—pale and sickly.
The only reason Jiang Lan agreed to feed him was out of genuine care.
"No, just eat."
Originally, Lu Yicheng had no appetite. But with Jiang Lan feeding him, he finished a whole bowl of porridge, plenty of vegetables, and even some meat. By the end, he felt completely fine.
Too bad they didn’t make it to Lotus Garden today.
Jiang Lan didn’t mind. As long as Lu Yicheng was okay, that was all that mattered.
That evening, she called Yu Wanqiu, who had a voice-acting session the next day.
The movie, Salute, was only half an hour long, but the dubbing would take several times longer.
Editing was already complete—only the voice work remained.
There was no issue with getting it approved for release. With less than four months until National Day, and no standout films for this year’s holiday season, Salute had become the most anticipated movie of the year, hands down.
Originally scheduled for Thursday, the session was moved to Wednesday to ensure they’d finish in time.
Yu Wanqiu asked how their trip was going. "Lu Yicheng, that idiot, got a fever," Jiang Lan said. "We didn’t go anywhere. We’ll rest another day tomorrow and see if he’s still running a temperature."
Yu Wanqiu couldn’t recall Lu Yicheng getting sick often.
When he was little and fell ill, she usually wasn’t around. Many of those memories had blurred with time.
"Must be tough taking care of him," Yu Wanqiu said.
Jiang Lan groaned. "Yu, please come back soon."
Yu Wanqiu laughed. "I’ll be back once the dubbing’s done."
The next day, Yu Wanqiu went to record for Salute. Immersing herself in the role again brought back the same heavy emotions.
After finishing in the evening, she and Lu Shuangchen went to visit Wu Qing.
Wu Qing’s spirits weren’t great. At her age, every day was a gift.
It was heartbreaking to see.
Lu Shuangchen hated seeing Yu Wanqiu like this. "Life and death are inevitable," he said. "There’s no escaping it. Don’t dwell on it."
If it were Jiang Lan, she’d probably say people turn into stars after they’re gone, that sickness can be cured, and that every extra day alive is a blessing.
But Lu Shuangchen was as wooden as ever.
Yu Wanqiu shot back, "If life and death are inevitable, what if you die before me?"
With that, she strode ahead.
At their age, mortality was impossible to ignore. Lu Shuangchen was six years older than her.
Barring accidents, he’d likely go first.
He followed behind her. "If I’m gone, you’ll still have Jiang Lan and the others."
"Wanqiu, I’m really glad you met Jiang Lan and clicked with her." Lu Shuangchen had thought about many things Yu Wanqiu hadn’t considered.
Lu Yicheng might feel his mother was intruding on his time with Jiang Lan, but Lu Shuangchen had never been jealous.
He was just happy Yu Wanqiu had found someone she connected with. Even if he passed first, she’d still have their son and Jiang Lan. She wouldn’t be alone.
Yu Wanqiu’s chest tightened. She took a deep breath. "Let’s schedule a full check-up tomorrow. I’m not asking for immortality—just a few more years."
If Yu Wanqiu wanted him to get checked, he’d go. Lu Shuangchen wanted those extra years too.
The company did annual physicals, and he was in good health, but if it put her mind at ease, he’d do it.
The ride home was quiet.
No matter what Lu Shuangchen said, Yu Wanqiu barely responded. Eventually, he gave up with a resigned smile.
Back at home, he poured her hot water and brewed floral tea.
"Have some tea. Want yogurt? What should we make for dinner?" There wasn’t much Lu Shuangchen couldn’t cook now.
Yu Wanqiu shrugged. "Anything’s fine. I’ll just toss a salad."
Lu Shuangchen hesitated. "Wanqiu, let’s eat healthier. I’ll do my best to live longer, okay? Stress is bad for you. Let’s not fight. We should take care of ourselves. With the kids away, I—"
Yu Wanqiu cut him off. "Fine. Rice and stir-fry then. But I want mala xiangguo—with instant noodles in it. And fatty beef, plus handmade meatballs—fish, pork, and shrimp."
Lu Shuangchen agreed without protest.
Handmade meatballs it was. He didn’t mind the effort—he was strong, and they came together quickly.
He’d never made mala xiangguo before, so he texted Lu Yicheng for a recipe. Soon, instructions came through.
He then had an assistant deliver a pack of mala xiangguo seasoning.
Homemade could never match the store-bought flavor. The assistant never imagined he’d one day be running errands for Lu Shuangchen—first high school math and physics, now this.
Who’d have thought the man would be cooking spicy hot pot for his wife?
The handmade meatballs turned out perfectly—savory, spicy, and rich. Yu Wanqiu devoured them.
The instant noodles at the end were the best part—soft yet springy. Watching her enjoy it, Lu Shuangchen found his own appetite returning. He ate more than usual.
After dinner, he loaded the dishwasher, and the two went for a walk.
Though summer hadn’t peaked yet, June was already sweltering.
They weren’t the type to hold hands, so they walked shoulder to shoulder instead.
Lu Shuangchen still wanted to explain. "Of course I want to grow old with you. But time might not let me. I’ve always been conscious of our age gap—wishing we were like Lu Yicheng and Jiang Lan, born the same year. Back then, I worried the difference meant we wouldn’t understand each other. Now, I just feel like I’m aging too fast. Look at my gray hair. You still look like you’re in your twenties."
He chuckled helplessly. "But I’ll do my best to stick around a little longer."
