When Love Turns the Tables: The Mysterious Husband's Chase

Xi Siyan watched the bustling crowd, stuffed Cheng Chen’s backpack straight into his own, and carried just one—much more convenient.

Cheng Chen, already very experienced, fished out some change and started buying from the very first stall.

After walking for only a short while, Cheng Chen’s hands were already full—an oversized deep‑fried squid in her left hand, a skewer of candied strawberries in her right.

Xi Siyan wasn’t much better off: stir‑fried rice cakes in his left hand, a cup of lemonade in his right.

Every time Cheng Chen took a couple of bites of squid, she’d come over to Xi Siyan to ask for a drink.

Later on, Xi Siyan got so used to it that whenever he saw she’d had two bites of something salty, he would immediately raise the lemonade in his hand to her.

And Cheng Chen would also bring whatever she was holding up to Xi Siyan’s lips to feed him.

In this kind of setting, with both their hands full like this, feeding each other didn’t seem all that ambiguous—at least that’s how it felt to Cheng Chen.

So the two of them just kept up this "not‑ambiguous" ambiguity all the way down the street, completely oblivious to everyone else.

They’d only been eating snacks, no proper meal, and by now they were about seventy or eighty percent full, but in this kind of atmosphere you always feel like eating a little more.

When they came to a stall where you could sit down and eat spicy hotpot skewers, Cheng Chen showed absolutely none of that pampered rich‑girl image and plopped down on the owner’s cheap little plastic stool.

Then she immediately started ordering in a very heroic manner.

Since both of them were almost full, Cheng Chen didn’t order much. She curled up into a little ball and muttered, "So tired."

"Tired from eating?"

"Yeah!"

The boss, who hadn’t gone far after taking their order, heard their conversation and couldn’t help twitching the corner of his mouth.

Tired from eating?

Heh... this...

Very soon, a bowl of spicy hotpot skewers was served. Cheng Chen deftly handed a pair of chopsticks to Xi Siyan and started eating herself.

Just now, Cheng Chen hadn’t continued asking about that group of people she’d seen.

Xi Siyan hadn’t said anything all the way here either, but now that they were sitting down, he was the one to take the initiative: "The people you saw just now are from my mother’s new family. Those two kids are, nominally, my half brother and sister—we share the same mother, different fathers."

Cheng Chen froze for a moment with a slice of potato between her teeth, but since Xi Siyan had already started talking, she just voiced what was on her mind: "You guys... don’t get along?"

There wasn’t much expression on Xi Siyan’s face—no sadness, no anger—he just said calmly, "Well, I don’t have the Li surname after all."

There was no sorrow or resentment in his tone, just a bit of self‑mockery, and Cheng Chen had already heard quite a lot about this from An Rui.

She pressed her lips together, then a smile reappeared on her face. "That’s actually pretty great. Li is such a common surname. There are way fewer people with the Xi surname than with Li—rare things are more precious, you know."

Xi Siyan was amused again. Bumping into the Li Family just now—saying it hadn’t stirred him up at all would’ve been a lie. But after Cheng Chen fussed around like that, that little ripple in his heart instantly dispersed into nothing.

Even though what she said made absolutely no sense—surnames aren’t really something you can call ’rare and precious’—somehow, hearing it right now, it felt kind of reasonable.

Xi Siyan felt a soft warmth flooding his chest. He turned his head, looking at the girl beside him who had gone back to focusing on her spicy hotpot.

It was getting a bit dark, and under the not‑so‑bright lights of the Snack Street, Cheng Chen’s face seemed to be edged with a faint halo.

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