The Comeback of the Charming Farmer's Wife

"Awake?" Yang Chuxia hurriedly put the food box on the table and came over.

"Mom," "Mom," the two kids saw their mother coming and consciously made room for Yang Chuxia.

"Good boys," she patted her son’s head and then said to Ye Zi’an, who wanted to get up, "The injury is on your shoulder, you can’t make big movements."

As she spoke, she brought over the porridge, "You can’t eat greasy food with an injury, you can only drink some light porridge."

"Dad is so pitiful!" Upon hearing that he could only eat porridge, Yangyang sighed. Meat tastes so good, and dad can’t even eat it.

"Mom, can I feed dad?" Lele saw Yang Chuxia blowing on the porridge and asked.

"You better not, you can hardly hold the bowl steady with your small hands, let mom do it."

Ye Zi’an felt quite sentimental, "But it’s been many years since I enjoyed the privilege of my wife feeding me." He suddenly remembered that he was fed once when he was getting his leg treated. It felt good, and he just now realized that getting injured might be worth it.

"Take back that thought, getting hurt and talking as if you have a point. I told you to take me with you, and you refused—look where that got us."

She gave him a displeased look; seeing the smug expression on his face, she knew he wasn’t taking the injury seriously at all; in fact, he seemed quite happy about it.

With his way of thinking, he might even hope to get injured a few more times; Yang Chuxia really got him figured out.

"Wife, it was an accident, a pure accident. Who knew such a mess of people would show up?"

"An accident my foot, that was clearly murder. I don’t care, next time you go somewhere far, you’re taking me with you." After a pause, she added a sentence that almost made Ye Er and the others burst, "My combat skills are much stronger than yours."

"Wife, you’re going to make Ye Er sad with that comment."

"It’s okay, they can’t hear us." Yang Chuxia scooped up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to Ye Zi’an’s mouth, "The temperature is just right; I made it! It’s just a shame it’s plain porridge with no taste, so you can’t even compliment me."

"..." After eating a few spoonfuls, Ye Zi’an finally said quietly, "You’re talking to yourself, stealing all my lines."

"Hehe, no worries, there’s also the medicine, you can praise me later for how well I made it."

After a while, Yang Chuxia brought over the medicine that had been kept warm all this time; it had been kept hot using a soup warmer.

"So bitter!"

Upon seeing the dark medicine, Yangyang covered his face.

Lele also looked at Ye Zi’an with a sympathetic face. To Ye Zi’an, it was bittersweet, it’s just a bowl of medicine after all.

"The doctor said this medicine has anti-inflammatory effects and helps with wound recovery," Yang Chuxia looked at the medicine in her hand, then at Ye Zi’an who was still lying down, "Should I feed you? But feeding you spoon by spoon seems a bit torturous."

How bitter Chinese medicine can be—she knew deeply, having been tormented by the stuff herself.

"No, just help me sit up; I’ll drink it myself."

"That works too!"

Yang Chuxia put the medicine back on the table and bent down to help Ye Zi’an sit up while Yangyang saw this and propped up Ye Zi’an’s pillow, murmuring, "Lean on it, lean on it."

"Wow, Yangyang, how did you know this would be more comfortable?"

Yang Chuxia was surprised by her son’s little action.

"Auntie did it like this."

With that, Yang Chuxia realized that it must have been something the boy saw last month when Xia Yun was sick.

"Yangyang has a good memory."

When Yangyang heard the praise, he giggled with laughter.

However, when he saw Ye Zi’an drink the whole bowl of medicine in one go, his laughter froze.