Sweet Wife in My Arms - Chapter 168

Chapter 168: Her One Hundred Million Yuan

He had cheated on his faithful wife again and again; in his eyes, all the other women seemed to be more considerate than her, prettier than her, and sexier than her. Once he had divorced her, he had lived the life of his dreams, bedding one woman after another without worrying about the consequences. In the end, however, he had realized that this was not the life he had wanted. He contracted an STD and had to travel extensively just to find a cure. His company went bankrupt, and he found himself back at square one; he was, once again, the man who had just graduated from college with nothing in his pocket. No, that was not quite right—he once had Xiang Ke by his side back then. Xiang Ke had made sure he never starved, no matter how bad things were, and made sure he had a place to rest and sleep no matter how tired he was. She had stayed by his side, no matter how hard he fell.

All his other women had left him as soon as it became obvious that he no longer had power or money. Not a single one of them had been willing to weather his hardships with him.

He touched his face. He had aged rapidly in the last five years; his temples had grayed, and he had lost so much weight he could pass as a ghoul. Most of his classmates already had successful careers and children of their own, but not him. He was just a sad, lonely man.

“Song Yang?” The voice was hesitant, as though uncertain whether it was really him.

“You’re…” Song Yang squinted his eyes; he could not recall the man before him. He seemed familiar, but it had been so long ago he had forgotten who he was.

“I’m Luo Qiguang.” The man smiled. He was dressed in gray casual wear that was crisp and clean. He wore glasses and seemed to glow with both youth and maturity. There was a beautiful little girl in his arms; the girl was, in turn, holding onto a doll as she stared unblinkingly at Song Yang with her large, doe-like eyes.

Song Yang finally opened his mouth to say, “Oh, it’s you.” He remembered now; Luo Qiguang was the quiet, taciturn guy in his college dorm who always kept to himself. Apparently he came from a wealthy family; he had lived in the dorm for a year before moving out, and Song Yang had later heard that he had joined the army.

Song Yang felt a pang of envy: how nice it was to have rich parents and get a head start in life.

“Yup, it’s me all right.” Luo Qiguang smiled. He tousled the hair of the little girl in his arms. “Niu Niu, you have to call him ‘Uncle.'”

“Hello, Uncle,” the little girl said obediently. Song Yang felt his pockets for candy or a small trinket to give the child, but came up empty-handed. He felt thoroughly embarrassed.

Luo Qiguang did not say anything. He merely smiled.

“Is she your daughter?” Song Yang asked, and immediately felt stupid for asking such an obvious question. The child had Luo Qiguang’s eyes, of course she was his daughter. What else could she be? His sister?

“Yup. She’s my daughter, three years old.” Luo Qiguang kissed his daughter’s tiny face; the little girl responded with a delighted laugh. Suddenly, she spied something in the distance, and began squirming in her father’s arms, as though eager to be back on the ground.

Luo Qiguang had no choice but to set his daughter down.

“Mommy,” the little girl yelled as she ran towards a woman a small distance away.

The woman heard her daughter’s voice and turned around just in time to catch the little girl in a hug. She placed her daughter’s hat back on her tiny head, and then lifted the toddler into her arms as she resumed her relaxed, happy conversation with her companions.

The color had drained from Song Yang’s face.

“That’s my wife.” Luo Qiguang shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’ve been married four years now.”

“Song Yang,” Luo Qiguang said earnestly as he studied Song Yang’s aging face. “Thank you for letting her go. If you hadn’t divorced her, I might not have found her at all. You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for her.” His nostalgic smile was full of the memories they shared in college.

“I don’t think you know this, but actually, I fell in love with her first.”

Song Yang’s face had turned ashen gray; he looked as though he had aged another 10 years. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

He turned and walked away. The camera lingered on his retreating back as it blurred into the distance.

“Cut!” yelled Huang Ming. Everyone let out the breath they had been holding.

“Good work, everyone.” Huang Ming’s eyes had disappeared into merry slits. “That’s a wrap! No lunch boxes today.” He thumped his chest. “I’ll treat everyone to a nice meal to celebrate.”

Everyone cheered. They had finally finished filming all the scenes for the movie, and would be able to rest.

Yan Huan was still holding the little girl’s hand. She was reluctant to let go of the pretty, clever child.

She had not forgotten that the child she had lost in her previous life was also a girl. She wondered if the child would have turned out just as pretty; either way, her daughter would have been her precious darling, her little princess, her meaning in life. But the child had been killed six months into her pregnancy; Yan Huan had not even gotten the chance to see what her daughter looked like.

Just then, the young actress’s mother walked over.

Yan Huan finally let go of the little girl’s hand. Her eyes stung as she watched the little girl leave with her mother.

She vowed to herself to have a daughter in the future. Perhaps the child she had lost in her previous life would be reunited with her again.

Someone patted her on the shoulder. It was Yi Ling.

“What’s wrong? What’s on your mind?” Yi Ling asked as she handed Yan Huan a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” Yan Huan accepted the bottle of water and drank it as she considered what to say to Yi Ling.

“I was thinking,” she said, smiling, “that I want to have a daughter.”

Yi Ling shrugged in resignation. “You’re not a star yet, and you’re already thinking of having children. You don’t have a boyfriend, and you’re already thinking of having children. You’re not even married, and you’re already thinking of having children. C’mon, you need a man to have children, you know.”

Yan Huan took another sip of water. There was a distant look in her eyes as her thoughts drifted away.

Who would she get to father her future child? She had to think about this carefully. She did not want to marry or depend on a man this time around, but she wanted a child of her own, and she needed a man for that.

That evening, Huang Ming treated everyone on the production team to dinner out of his own pocket. The Divorced project had ended; after this, the production staff would go their separate ways.

“I really enjoyed working with you.” Huang Ming shook Yan Huan’s hand. He was more than satisfied with Yan Huan’s performance. “I hope we’ll be able to work together again in the future if the opportunity arises.”

“I’m sure of it.” Yan Huan shook his hand firmly. She knew there would be plenty of such opportunities; she would be taking 100 million yuan from Huang Ming, and she wanted to repay him any way she could.

Huang Ming smiled shyly. Once again, Yan Huan found it difficult to reconcile the seemingly ordinary man before her with the man who would go on to win an award for Best Director in a few years’ time. Huang Ming was set to become, as they say, one of the biggest winners in life.

Yan Huan could not wait to see where Huang Ming’s journey would take him— that, and the 100 million yuan that would soon be hers.