**Chapter 116: Drinking Soup**

In the afternoon, the Manhattan Tribeca apartment had a brightly lit living room filled with the rich aroma of coffee. Three tall beauties were sitting on the sofa: Mrs. Bündchen, Angela, and the newly arrived in New York, Alessandra Ambrosio.

"Mrs. Bündchen, where did Richard go? I haven't seen him in nearly two months," Angela asked, setting down her coffee cup.

"Sicily!" Mrs. Bündchen replied with a smile, holding her coffee cup.

"Is the movie still not finished?"

"It was finished at the end of August. He said he's training on the island, focusing on speed and pushing his limits. I don't know much about boxing, so I didn't ask further," Mrs. Bündchen explained.

"Training in Sicily? Is that place suitable for training?" Angela inquired with curiosity.

"Yes, he said the tides by the sea are very suitable for training. He trained there for a few days last time with great results, so he stayed there longer. He'll be back in a few days."

"A boxer training in the sea? Do you believe that, Alessandra?" Angela asked.

Alessandra Ambrosio thought for a moment and smiled, "I don't know. If he wasn't training, what would he be doing there?"

"Good question!" Angela snapped her fingers. "Mrs. Bündchen, take a guess. If he wasn't training, what would he be doing there?"

"I don't know. You tell me," Mrs. Bündchen smiled.

"Let's hypothesize. Last time he was filming in Sicily, he met a girl. There are supposedly many beauties on the island, and during filming, he accidentally got one of them pregnant. Now he's staying with her," Angela said with a mischievous wink.

"Angela, stop guessing. At this rate, the baby would be born already," Alessandra laughed.

"No way. I trust him and believe in myself. I don't think anyone can take him away from me," Mrs. Bündchen said with a clenched fist.

"Mrs. Bündchen, you're most charming at moments like this," Angela laughed softly.

"Of course!" Mrs. Bündchen smiled.

Knock, knock, knock~ Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Mrs. Bündchen, were you expecting someone?" Angela asked.

"Maybe it's Reese. I met her at Fashion Week a few days ago and invited her over for coffee," Mrs. Bündchen said as she put on a coat and went to the door.

At the door, she looked through the peephole and saw a bouquet of roses blocking her view. She grabbed a baseball bat and opened the door. A person stood there with the flowers obscuring their face. It looked odd.

"Can I help you?" Mrs. Bündchen asked with a frown.

"Hello, Mrs. Bündchen. I'm a florist," the person said.

"Richard?" Mrs. Bündchen paused and pulled down the bouquet, revealing the familiar face of Richard holding the flowers with a helpless expression. "You recognized me even when I changed my voice?" he asked.

"Bastard, I'd recognize you even if you had surgery to change your voice," Mrs. Bündchen laughed and jumped into his arms.

Richard's eyebrows furrowed as he stepped back a few times with a smile. "Mrs. Bündchen, have you gained weight? I can barely hold you."

"Nonsense, your legs are just weak. Wait, aren't you supposed to be training? Why are your legs weak? Bastard, were you messing around in Sicily?" Mrs. Bündchen poked his nose.

"Haha, no, my legs aren't weak. I was just joking," Richard said, lifting her up slightly.

"Okay, but you said you'd be back at the end of October. Why are you back early?"

"The weather in October gets cold, and the sea temperature is too low for training."

"That's great. If you hadn't come back, I would have gone to Sicily to fetch you. Angela said you were having a baby on the island," Mrs. Bündchen smiled with a raised eyebrow.

"Angela always slanders me. Next time I see her, I will—"

"Do what?" Angela asked, standing at the door with her arms crossed and a smile on her face.

"Uh, give you a gift. Thank you for keeping Mrs. Bündchen company. I brought back a lot of gifts this time. Hi, Alessandra, I have a gift for you too," Richard greeted Alessandra, then called down the hallway, "Mike, you can stop hiding. Mrs. Bündchen's hearing is sharper than a cat's."

"You're the one with cat ears!" Mrs. Bündchen rolled her eyes and let go of Richard.

Mike walked over with two large suitcases and a backpack, and everyone went inside together.

"Hey, Richard, what's wrong with your right leg? It looks a bit lame," Angela suddenly asked.

"Richard, what's wrong with your leg?" Mrs. Bündchen asked with a frown.

"Nothing, I just encountered a small shark in the sea a few days ago—"

"A shark?!" Mrs. Bündchen immediately squatted down and touched his right leg.

"Haha, don't worry, dear. It's my real leg. I just bumped it, bled a bit. Nothing serious," Richard said with a slight smile.

Mrs. Bündchen carefully examined his leg and saw it was indeed his real leg. She sighed in relief, then tugged at his pants. "Take off your pants and let me see the wound!"

"Not here. Angela and Alessandra are still here. We'll check later," Richard smiled.

"We don't mind!" Angela shrugged.

Alessandra smiled, indicating she didn't mind either.

"Alright then," Richard said, taking off his sports pants to reveal a bandaged thigh. "See, it's just a small bite from the shark. The wound is less than a handprint."

"A handprint-sized wound is still small?" Angela blinked.

"Of course, for us men—"

Pow~ A fist suddenly swung and hit Richard's face hard.

Richard froze. "Are you crazy?! Why did you hit me?"

"You're the crazy one. Do you think you're Superman, training in shark-infested waters? Richard, you're just an ordinary person, nothing special. Can you stop being so arrogant?" Mrs. Bündchen shouted with a trembling chin.

Richard opened his mouth. "I was wrong. I won't train like this again."

"Wrong? Last time you joined a cage fight, you said you were wrong and wouldn't hide things from me. How long has it been? You're admitting fault again. You never considered my feelings," Mrs. Bündchen said, tearing up.

"Dear, it's not like that. I care about you. I just didn't want you to worry."

"That line again. If you didn't want me to worry, you wouldn't do things like this. You always hide things from me. How can I trust you?" Mrs. Bündchen shouted.

Richard rubbed his forehead and glanced at Angela and Alessandra. "Stop pretending to be statues and help me out!"

Angela rolled her eyes at him, walked to Mrs. Bündchen's side, and gently comforted her. Alessandra also smiled and joined in the comforting.

"Mrs. Bündchen, Richard likes adventure. Don't bother with him. If he gets in trouble, you can always find another boyfriend. No big loss," Angela said.

Richard's mouth twitched. Is that even a human comment?

"Mrs. Bündchen, don't be sad. Regardless, Richard is back safe and sound. That's worth celebrating, isn't it?" Alessandra smiled.

Richard nodded. "Well said." He took Mrs. Bündchen's hand. "Dear, I was wrong. I won't take such risks again. I've gained a lot from this trip, so I don't need to train like that anymore. So, don't worry."

"Hmph!" Mrs. Bündchen turned her head away from him.

"Dear, I really was wrong. Mrs. Bündchen, I'm hungry. I flew back from Italy just to eat your cooking. When's dinner?" Richard asked, holding his stomach.

"Hmph, do you think I'm your servant? Cook for yourself!" Mrs. Bündchen glared at him and stormed out with her coat.

"Dear, where are you going?"

Bang! Mrs. Bündchen slammed the door.

"Richard, you reflect on yourself. We're leaving too," Angela and Alessandra said, grabbing their coats.

"Alright, please talk to Mrs. Bündchen and tell her not to be mad."

"Don't worry," they said as they left.

Richard sighed and slowly stood up, leaning on the sofa.

"What are you doing?" Mike asked, supporting him.

"Oh, you're still here. Check the fridge for food and make something simple," Richard said.

"Alright," Mike said, suppressing a laugh as he walked into the kitchen. After a while, he came out with an apple.

"There are eggs, fruits, oatmeal, and milk in the fridge. What do you want to eat?" Mike asked.

"Can you fry eggs?"

"I've never done it. How about I go out and buy something?"

"Never mind. Too much trouble. You're tired too. Go rest. I'll make something simple," Richard said, waving his hand.

"Can you cook?"

"I'll try!"

Richard waved his hand and limped into the kitchen. He took out an egg and another, gently cracking them into a bowl. He picked out a few pieces of eggshell, then cracked another egg, picking out more shells.

He sighed, wiped the sweat from his face, and prepared to open the frying pan.

Bang!

A sound of a door closing came from outside.

"Mike?"

He called out but got no response. Limping, he prepared to go out and check. After just two steps, Mrs. Bundchen walked in carrying two shopping bags, her face cold, and her long eyelashes looked frosty, not blinking.

"Hey, honey, you're back?"

Richard laughed.

Bundchen ignored him, walked into the kitchen with the bags, and saw the eggs he'd cracked, along with the fragments of eggshell on the counter, silently curling her lips.

"Did you go grocery shopping?"

Richard followed and asked.

Bundchen still didn't speak. She categorized the items from the bags and put them in the fridge, then took out some ingredients to start cooking.

"I'll wash the vegetables!"

Richard extended his hand.

"Get out of the way, don't hover around me!"

Mrs. Bundchen pulled a chair and pushed him into it.

"Alright, alright!"

Richard could only sit and watch her cook.

"Honey, my injury's fine. Look, I can walk, which means it's not serious. You don't need to worry."

Richard said.

Chop, chop~

Mrs. Bundchen skillfully chopped vegetables and meat with a knife.

"Alright, it was indeed risky this time. I underestimated the changes at sea and those sharks, almost got into trouble. 

But I gained a lot from it. I feel my abilities have greatly improved in all aspects. Do you believe it? Don't believe? Haha, then when I recover, we'll try it in bed, and you'll surely"

"Shut up!"

Mrs. Bundchen blushed and glared at him.

"Haha, why don't we try it now?"

Richard stood up and hugged her.

"Let go!"

Mrs. Bundchen shouted.

"Hehe, not letting go."

Shing~

Mrs. Bundchen raised a shiny kitchen knife.

"Alright, I'll let go, don't use the knife!"

Richard waved his hands.

"Hmph! Go sit there, if you move again, I'll chop you!"

Mrs. Bundchen said, waving the knife.

"Alright!"

Richard quickly kissed her, then stepped back a few steps, accidentally pulling his wound. He gasped in pain, a layer of sweat forming on his forehead.

"What's wrong? Did you pull your wound? Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Mrs. Bundchen supported him and asked.

"I'm fine, don't worry!"

Richard waved his hand and sat down.

"No, let's go to the hospital later. Was your wound dressed on the island? The medical standards there can't be compared to New York. It's better to get it checked."

Mrs. Bundchen said.

"Okay, listen to you, hurry up and cook, I'm starving!"

Richard patted her butt.

Mrs. Bundchen rolled her eyes at him and focused on cooking.

---

After a warm family meal, Mrs. Bundchen insisted he go to NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital to check his injury.

When the bandage was removed, the doctor took a sharp breath, and Mrs. Bundchen covered her mouth, almost vomiting. Richard smirked; it was much worse a few days ago, now it was half-healed.

At the doctor's insistence, he stayed in the hospital for three more days.

But somehow, news of his right leg injury leaked to the media.

On the fourth day, the New York Daily News reported it, saying he was attacked by sharks while filming in Italy, seriously injuring his right leg, possibly missing the WBC championship fight in twenty-five days.

Richard immediately had Alvin announce that the news was false, and the match would go on as scheduled.

However, rumors of his injury persisted, with people claiming to have seen him in the hospital, limping. Some said he was faking it to make Roy Jones drop his guard.

Informed bookmakers raised his odds, further confirming the rumors.

"This isn't good!"

In the apartment, Richard put down the newspaper and shook his head.

"Why not?"

Mrs. Bundchen scooped a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

Richard smacked his lips, "With my strength, I can win the match in three rounds, but now, even if I win, people will say I used tactics. Winning like this is meaningless."

"You still want to compete?"

Mrs. Bundchen frowned.

"Honey, don't worry, my leg is fine. Want to see me moonwalk? I can show you."

Richard stood up.

"Don't fool around!"

Mrs. Bundchen pulled him down and fed him another spoonful of soup, "I heard you need a medical checkup before the match. As long as you pass, I won't interfere."

"Alright, it's settled."

Richard smiled, kissed her, "Honey, my wound is almost healed, we can do some light exercise. How about we make love?"

Mrs. Bundchen pushed his face away, "Not until you're fully healed."

"I'm fine!"

"I say you're not. Drink your soup!"

Mrs. Bundchen said sternly.

"Don't you want to?"

Richard hugged her waist and asked.

Mrs. Bundchen rolled her eyes at him, "Drink the soup first!"

"Haha, got it, drink the soup first!"

Richard chuckled.

Back home, Richard began his recovery mode, eating and sleeping, occasionally strolling with Mrs. Bundchen, and calling friends.

With more news about his injury in the newspapers, friends called or visited to check on him. Mrs. Theron even thoughtfully brought him a cane.