Chapter 22: From Now On, You Are My Daughter-in-law

Zhang Zhihan shook her head.

“Although I haven’t known Gou Liang for long, I believe he would never do such a thing. He must have been framed.”

Gou Liang was instantly overjoyed, so moved that he almost rushed forward to embrace Zhang Zhihan and release his love like an erupting volcano. But he managed to restrain himself—after all, he was currently wearing Hao Dagen’s guise. If he lost control and jumped at her, it wouldn’t just end with a slap.

He swallowed and said,

“Gou Liang asked me to tell you…”

Zhang Zhihan immediately raised her slender finger to her luscious lips, making a gesture for silence. Then she unlocked her phone and began typing.

“A bunch of police have been in my apartment. I suspect they’ve installed a listening device here.”

Gou Liang broke out in a cold sweat, thankful he hadn’t actually said he was Gou Liang. He pulled out his phone as well, typing his reply.

“Gou Liang told me he misses you terribly. He said you promised to let him climb the mountain, and he’s been longing for it ever since. He wants me to ask you if you truly intend to let him climb the mountain.”

Zhang Zhihan was momentarily flustered, shyly blinking her thick, curled lashes. Her delicate face blushed so deeply it seemed it might drip with dew. Instead of replying on her phone, she lowered her graceful neck and nodded gently.

Gou Liang’s heart blazed, wishing he could tear off Hao Dagen’s skin and draw Zhang Zhihan into his arms, ascending that long-dreamed-of summit. But the disguise couldn’t be shed, so he could only swallow with a dry mouth.

He pressed on, eager to test the depth of Zhang Zhihan’s feelings for him, and continued typing.

“Gou Liang also wants to know, after climbing the mountain, could you share a spicy hotpot with him?”

Zhang Zhihan was so embarrassed that tears nearly welled in her eyes. She wondered how Gou Liang could be so shameless, entrusting someone to relay such words.

Her blush deepened, and she nervously twisted her slender waist, casting a bashful glance at Hao Dagen.

Gou Liang happened to look at her at that moment, and when their eyes met, he was struck by the fresh, innocent aura that radiated from her. Her face glowed with a rosy tint, her lips were like cherry blossoms, and her elegant nose was simply enchanting—beauty that could overturn the world.

He was secretly delighted. Zhang Zhihan was certainly no homewrecker; no mistress could possess such pure feminine charm.

He recalled what his college roommates used to say: to discern if a girl was pure or a “green tea,” one should observe the gap between her legs. Regardless, Zhang Zhihan was now his girlfriend, so he paid attention.

Whenever Zhang Zhihan walked or stood, her legs were tightly pressed together.

Though Gou Liang, a medical student, didn’t believe such tales, his roommates told them with such conviction, almost as if they were ready to write a thesis.

They claimed that a large gap between a “green tea” girl’s legs was due to frequent “double exercises” with boys and prolonged separation. They also said the eyes could reveal the truth: pure girls, lacking experience, had clear gazes, free of those seductive, ambiguous looks. “Green tea” girls, with more experience, naturally developed a beguiling, flirtatious gaze.

In that instant of eye contact, Zhang Zhihan’s heart trembled. Why did this uncle’s gaze so resemble Gou Liang’s? It was exactly the same—if she focused only on the eyes, she would surely mistake him for Gou Liang.

Though Gou Liang wore Hao Dagen’s skin, the eyes remained the window to the soul, and thus his gaze was still unmistakably Gou Liang’s.

Seeing that molten, fiery look in his eyes, Zhang Zhihan’s heart raced wildly. She typed on her phone:

“Uncle, are you related to Gou Liang?”

Gou Liang’s mischievous spirit arose, and he decided to tease Zhang Zhihan. He typed:

“Yes, we are indeed related. Strictly speaking, I am his biological father.”

Zhang Zhihan stared, wide-eyed with disbelief, and typed back:

“Then why is your surname Hao, and his Gou?”

Gou Liang answered,

“We divorced. Gou Liang took his mother’s surname.”

Zhang Zhihan nodded thoughtfully, then hurriedly stood up and bowed politely to Gou Liang, silently mouthing, “Hello, uncle.”

Gou Liang suppressed his laughter and walked up to Zhang Zhihan, gently patting her head. Then he typed:

“Don’t be so formal. Gou Liang has said he’ll marry no one but you in this life. From now on, you’re my daughter-in-law, we’re family. You can just call me Dad.”

Hearing Gou Liang’s promise of lifelong devotion, Zhang Zhihan was moved to tears. Yet, when Hao Dagen suggested she call him Dad, she was mortified—the wedding hadn’t happened yet, and she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Gou Liang seized the opportunity to take her soft little hand, patting his chest, then typed:

“Good daughter-in-law, don’t worry. Gou Liang will be fine; he’s been wronged. I’ll clear his name, and then arrange your wedding.”

He squeezed her smooth, delicate hand again, nearly laughing aloud with joy. Her warm, soft hand let him feel the pulse beneath her skin. If she were a ghost, her limbs would be cold, and there’d be no heartbeat.

In a few years, Zhang Zhihan would become a woman longing for marriage. Now, she’d found a devoted, wealthy boyfriend and a distinguished father-in-law who clearly liked her and didn’t care about her humble background, filling her heart with indescribable joy.

Seeing how eager they were, she couldn’t remain so reserved. Her lips moved silently, mouthing,

“Thank you, Dad.”

Hearing Zhang Zhihan call him Dad sent an electric thrill through Gou Liang, making him nearly burst with laughter. Looking at his first love, he longed to hold her close, to remain entwined forever.

As they spoke, Zhang Zhihan’s face suddenly paled. She clutched her abdomen, pain etched across her lovely features.

Gou Liang immediately asked with concern,

“What’s wrong?”

Zhang Zhihan bowed her head shyly, whispering,

“It’s nothing, really. It’s just that my relative has come—an old ailment. It’ll pass soon.”

Gou Liang promptly had her lie down on the bed. Rolling up his sleeves, he said,

“My wife is a doctor, and I’m half a doctor myself. Don’t worry, I’ll help you, and you’ll feel better soon.”

“Okay.” Zhang Zhihan, nervous, her thick and curled lashes quivered slightly.

Gou Liang gazed at her cherry lips, recalling their tumble down the stairs, wishing to relive that fragrant memory.

Suddenly, he remembered what his roommate had once said: when his girlfriend had a stomachache, that was his chance. She asked him to help massage her belly, and as she became moved, she held his hand and guided him further, leading naturally to a night spent together under the covers.