Chapter 143: Ch 143: A Tub of Tomorrow

"We’re back," said PD Xu Cui in his usual playful manner, and settled down like the conversation in the alcove had never happened. Su Wanyan sat a step behind him, and likewise, also sat down. The noise of children, spoons, and conversation rose around her at once and washed over her shoulders. It was louder and warmer than the narrow space between the buildings she’d just left. Her shoulders took a moment to catch up.

After settling herself, she turned first to Shen Guoxing out of habit, but her hand found Mo Xingxue’s hand beneath the table’s edge anyway. Her fingers closed. When Mo Xingxue drew her hand in as a reply, something in Su Wanyan’s chest settled that had not fully settled on the walk back from the alcove. Her smile grew.

"So," she said, her gentle smile returning to her face. "What did I miss?"

Shen Guoxing turned towards her with all the dignity of a proper bulletin, holding up one small hand with her palm out.

"Later, Aunt Wanyan." The milky voice was firm, absolute, and a touch rough around the edges, evidence of the particular condition she was discussing. "I am in vocal rest."

Having delivered the verdict, she reached for the water bottle Song Meiyu had bought for Leilei earlier, and unscrewed the cap carefully before taking a serious drink. The whole performance had the gravity of hospital protocol.

Beside her, Leilei’s face flushed red so quickly it hurt to see. Th-that was an indirect kiss, right? The thought rose fully formed and refused to leave. Her stomach twisted for reasons she could not name and did not want to examine whilst sitting right next to the person responsible. She stared hard at the table edge, at her own hands, anything that was not the bottle or Shen Guoxing’s mouth, and said nothing.

Su Wanyan raised her eyebrows at the pronouncement and chuckled. "Okay, ma’am." She saluted the child with a mock crispness, and got a small, satisfied nod from Shen Guoxing, who felt her medical credentials were being properly acknowledged by the adults.

Su Wanyan turned to Mo Xingxue next, one brow still raised in silent request for translation. Mo Xingxue read it immediately, and let out a soft chuckle as she tipped her head in an invitation. Su Wanyan leaned in. Snow lotus filled the small space between them—cool, familiar, steadying in a way that had nothing to do with the ice cream on the table and everything to do with the fact that Mo Xingxue was here, upright, and choosing to laugh about something ordinary.

"She’s been talking nonstop," Mo Xingxue whispered, laughter under the words. "Mid-story her voice cracked. Ever since then she’s insisted she needs vocal rest." A sly look towards the child finished the report: pure embarrassment, dealt with through the most formal medical theatrics the child could invent on short notice.

Su Wanyan let out a quiet laugh against the shared air between them. "She’s embarrassed as hell, isn’t she?"

Mo Xingxue only shrugged, already moving back into her seat with the unhurried grace of someone who had decided the child deserved a little dignity. "I don’t know." Another small laugh. "Maybe." The non-answer was deliberate, an adult’s gift of face, wrapped up so Shen Guoxing would never have to hear the diagnosis spoken.

Su Wanyan laughed properly this time, the sound looser than anything she could manage in the alcove. She turned her attention to Shen Guoxing, who had returned to the nearly finished tub of Biscoff ice cream with the solemn focus of a professional recovering from strain. The spoon moved as the remaining cream was vanishing at a steady, justified rate.

"Aren’t people on vocal rest advised not to eat ice cream?" asked Su Wanyan, mildly as a clinic reminder.

Shen Guoxing’s shoulders tensed. The spoon paused halfway to her mouth.

Su Wanyan reached out and took the spoon tub. "Ack—!" Shen Guoxing’s hand clamped onto nothing. She looked at her aunt in open disbelief, as if the theft of the contraband had not been properly authorized by anyone in the medical board she recognized.

In response, Su Wanyan ate the spoonful of ice cream. Sweet, creamy, caramelized biscuit—exactly as good as it had looked. Her eyes curved. She offered Shen Guoxing a purely mischievous smile over the rim of the tub, the image of a doctor who had stolen the evidence away.

"Aunt, that’s ours," whined Shen Guoxing, stretching both hands out in demand. The protest was heartfelt, but, carefully, not loud. Vocal rest had its standards.

Su Wanyan shook her head, still smiling. "No. The doctor said you can’t eat ice cream while you’re on vocal rest."

Shen Guoxing’s answering hmph was soft, indignant and measured to the last decibel so as not to further endanger the resting cords. She folded her arms. She did not, however, break protocol by arguing in full volume. The restraint was admirable. But the sulk was not subtle.

However, after a few seconds, Shen Guoxing’s eyes drifted back to the tub of ice cream. Her eyes flicked toward the tub with the focused intensity of someone conducting a silent negotiation.

Seeing the hopeful side-glances, Su Wanyan only chuckled and took another spoonful. Shen Guoxing was still not subtle. Hope, calculation, and the thin possibility of mercy took turns on her face. The longer Su Wanyan held the ice cream, the more elaborate the glances became and it only made Su Wanyan laugh harder.

When it became clear her aunt would not surrender through pity alone, Shen Guoxing changed strategy. She turned to Mo Xingxue and deployed the full arsenal in sequence: puppy eyes first, then an aggrieved little call of "Aunt...," then a pout precise enough to suggest prior rehearsal, and finally a suspicious shine at the corners of her eyes that stopped just short of actual tears.

The performance was committed. It was also aimed with surgical accuracy at the softer of the two adults currently in range.

Mo Xingxue chuckled and gave the child’s head a gentle pat, acknowledging the effort even as she refused to be fully conquered by it. Then she looked at Su Wanyan, one eyebrow raised in a dry inquiry.

"So which doctor advised that she can’t eat ice cream on vocal rest?"

The question was mild. The look underneath it already knew the answer and was simply collecting the confession for the record.

Su Wanyan confirmed it with ceremony—another spoonful first, then a finger pointed squarely at her own chest.

"This doctor."

Shen Guoxing’s protest was immediate. "That’s no fair, Aunt!" An accusing finger followed the complaint across the table, trembling slightly with the force of the injustice.

Su Wanyan kept the mischievous smile. "How is it unfair when I’m telling the truth? I really was your doctor before."

The reminder landed with the weight of documented history. Shen Guoxing’s expression moved through several stages of internal appeal—outrage, search for loopholes, reconsideration of the facts—and settled on defeat. There was no overturning a credentialed past. The spoon, the tub, and the moral high ground all remained on Su Wanyan’s side of the table.

Su Wanyan’s laughter was still half-formed when the chop arrived.

"Ouch—!"

The sting registered cleanly and stayed. Potion-enhanced endurance had done nothing useful against PD Xu Cui’s particular brand of correction. She twisted around, palm already pressed to the spot, and found him reclaiming his hand with the expression of a man who had just defended a national treasure.

"Why are you bullying my angelic Xing’er?" he demanded. "Who gave you the right?"

Su Wanyan, still rubbing her head, offered no defense. Experience had taught her that arguing with PD Xu Cui mid-righteousness only invited another round of trouble. Seeing her passive reaction, PD Xu Cui drew breath for another round of scolding—then stopped dead.

Mo Xingxue had turned a cold look on him.

The temperature at their end of the table dropped without anyone touching the air. PD Xu Cui’s mouth closed. The hand that had been half-raised for emphasis returned to his lap with suspicious obedience. Whatever speech he had prepared about the sacred rights of angelic granddaughters dissolved under that familiar Arctic pressure.

Mo Xingxue held the look a second longer than necessary, then sighed at the two grown adults behaving like children. The frost left her face as she leaned toward Shen Guoxing. Her voice dropped to the volume reserved for conspiracies and comfort.

"Don’t worry. I’ll buy you another tub of ice cream later." A pat on the head sealed the promise.

Shen Guoxing’s eyes lit so quickly the earlier defeat might never have existed. "Really, Aunt?" she whispered back, excitement pressing hard against the self-imposed rules of vocal rest.

Mo Xingxue nodded, calm and absolute. "I have the points your Aunt Wanyan earned earlier from tilling. Don’t worry for she won’t be able to say anything. After all, she was the one who gave them to me."

Shen Guoxing accepted this financial and moral structure with total seriousness, nodding as if the arrangement had been reviewed by counsel and found airtight. Points earned. Points transferred. Points spent on ice cream. The logic was immaculate.

Meanwhile, Su Wanyan heard every word.

She did not get mad. She did not feel the least bit annoyed at being outmaneuvered with her own currency. A wide, helpless smile spread across her face instead—the particular expression of someone watching the people she loved used her efforts against her in the best possible way.

Somewhere between the stolen Biscoff, the theatrical vocal rest, PD Xu Cui’s brief reign of justice, and Mo Xingxue calmly authorizing a replacement tub, a simple decision settled into place with surprising firmness.

Then I’ll just have to work harder tomorrow.

More challenges. More points—enough that Xuexue and the children could spend without checking the balance first. If that meant working myself into the ground on the next segment, so be it, she thought resolutely. The thought did not feel like a sacrifice. It felt like planning.

Under the ordinary noise of the table—PD still sitting with unusual stillness after one cold look, Shen Guoxing already composing a mental shopping list, Leilei observing the whole transaction with the quiet attention she gave everything Shen Guoxing cared about—Su Wanyan sat with Mo Xingxue’s hand in hers and the taste of caramelized biscuit still on her tongue.

The tub remained in her possession for now. The future tub was already spoken for. And tomorrow, apparently, had just acquired a very clear purpose.

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I’M SO SORRY I WASN’T ABLE TO UPDATE Y’ALL! I had to sleep early yesterday because we have a community service today and I also have to review for exams (the two exams I haven’t taken). That’s why, I couldn’t revise the prepared Chapter. But as a way to say sorry, I’ll release two Chapters today (including this one). The other one is still currently in revision, so it might take a few hours LMAO.

Thanks for understanding y’all!