webnovel

Rebirth: He Decides to Lie Flat

Jiang Yan had been reborn. In his previous life, he was duped by his own father—who ended up in prison—into taking on the responsibilities of the family. He had to care for his grandparents in place of his father, show respect to his uncles, maintain brotherly love... In this life, he only wanted to breat free from these bloodsuckers, find a sugar "daddy", and by the way, nourish his stomach. ***** Song Jiawen felt something was weird. That guy from next door—who had to return to the countryside to study because his father was imprisoned—suddenly switched from literature to science and joined her class, and even moved to the seat behind her. Ostensibly, he did it so she could tutor him in physics and biology, but why did she always feel like he had an ulterior motive? ***** Years later, as Jiang Yan watched the soup simmering in the pot while soothing his son in his arms, he glanced back at his wife, who was leisurely watching TV on the sofa with her legs crossed, and thought miserably, this meal ticket he had married into was proving to be quite a struggle!

Mr. San Shi · Thành thị
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
514 Chs

Chapter 156: The Temptation of Mutton Soup

Song Jiawen had been fretting over the gathering tomorrow afternoon, so many people, all strangers to her, she truly didn't want to go, but after she spoke to Jiang Yan just now, she was no longer bothered.

Especially seeing him frown after hearing her, she felt even more joyous, and her steps up the stairs were light.

Tonight, nearly all the freshman classes were holding class meetings, which likely had not ended yet, so the entire dormitory building was deathly quiet, with hardly anyone around.

The sneakers she wore were bought by her mother, very flexible, and made almost no sound when she walked.

When she reached the third floor, she could faintly hear someone sobbing, along with some indistinct speech.

Song Jiawen paused for a moment, then continued towards Room 303 without a change in expression.

At the end of the third-floor corridor, by the window, someone was holding a phone and looking down while making a call, to be more precise, crying while calling.