Chapter 1: The Little Wife Who Loves to Pout

Zhou Miaomiao had been married for exactly three months, and she still couldn’t quite believe that she, an ordinary designer at a small ad agency, had become the wife of Song Yichen, vice president of the city’s largest construction group, a man known to every one of his subordinates as cold and stern.

But that was the Yichen everyone else saw. At home, in front of Miaomiao, he was a completely different husband: patient, indulgent to the point that sometimes even Miaomiao felt embarrassed about how much she pouted.

That evening, after a tiring day in which her boss had personally criticized one of her design projects for falling short, Miaomiao came home looking crestfallen. She climbed straight into Yichen’s lap where he sat reading documents on the sofa, wrapped her arms around his neck, and whined, “Hubby, I got scolded today. I’m so sad. Come on, cheer me up.”

Yichen set the documents aside, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her fully into his lap, his deep voice warm and indulgent. “Who dared scold my darling wife? Tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

“You don’t need to,” Miaomiao pouted, nuzzling her head against his chest. “My boss just said my design wasn’t creative enough. I know it’s my fault. I’m just… a little sad.”

“Then let me see your design,” Yichen said. He listened patiently as Miaomiao opened her tablet to show him the rejected design, then spent a full half hour analyzing it with her and giving feedback, as seriously as if he were in a meeting about one of his own group’s major projects, even though the field was nowhere near his expertise.

“See?” he concluded at last, ruffling her hair as if soothing a child. “Your design isn’t bad at all. Your boss just sees things from a different angle. Don’t be sad anymore. How about I cook your favorite dish tonight to make up for it?”

Miaomiao broke into a bright smile and nodded eagerly. All the troubles of the day seemed to melt away after just a few gentle words from her husband. She had no idea that every time she pouted like that, the heart of that cold vice president melted in a way his colleagues could never have imagined.