Those were particularly absurd days, even more insane than that summer when she was eighteen. Grown men and women had shed their youthful shyness, moving toward maturity and directness. The ignited passion shifted from unfamiliar streets to their home, leaving traces on the dining table, in the bathtub, and throughout the room. Miao Jing cried until her eyes were swollen and red, yet she couldn’t withstand his relentless intensity. Chen Yi silenced her sobs with kisses, and she retaliated by fiercely biting his arms and shoulders, only further provoking his wild nature.
The next morning, Miao Jing woke up feeling as though her entire body had been crushed, too exhausted to lift even a finger. A large bouquet of colorful roses, still damp with morning dew, sat on the bedside table. She met a pair of lazy, thoroughly satisfied eyes. Chen Yi grinned at her, coffee and breakfast already prepared, eagerly offering to feed her.
Lazily gazing at the canopy above the bed… she felt that Chen Yi needed a job to distract his energy.
But she didn’t dare say it out loud.
Chen Yi went to the billiards hall every week to play with others. The money he lost was decreasing, and even when he won, he didn’t take the earnings, claiming it was just for skill practice and to make friends over a handshake and a bottle of beer. In Bogotá, he had no money, no connections, and no resources. Keeping peace was precious, and he needed friends from all walks of life.
Gino, following Chen Yi around, had practically become his little admirer. He’d talk about the past in the Golden Triangle—did she know about the Myanmar Golden Triangle? It was just as thrilling as Colombia. Had she ever touched a gun? Of course! In Bogotá, security guards on the streets carried short assault □□ and Cordova □□. The Golden Triangle had them too—□□ and various imitation □□. He used to have a gun for self-defense.
It had been nearly half a year since they arrived in Bogotá. Chen Yi was now familiar with the environment, had mastered the language, and understood firearms and weapons. With his physique and looks, he had the confidence to carry himself. Ramirez helped connect him to a job as a community security guard in a wealthy neighborhood, stationed at a high-end apartment near their home, armed and on patrol.
Chen Yi was very interested in the job.
“Day shift, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., includes a work lunch. The monthly salary is 800,000 pesos.”
Miao Jing pondered for five seconds and asked if it was safe. The wealthy area was covered in surveillance, fully equipped with security measures, and patrolled by police. In recent years, violent incidents had been rare. In the end, she decided to let him do as he pleased. It was better than him staying home as a househusband every day—going out for a part-time job to socialize was a good idea. As for the 800,000-peso salary, converted to RMB, it was just over a thousand yuan, enough for his pocket money. The monthly household allowance would remain unchanged.
In the uniform issued by the security company, he suddenly looked serious and proper. With combat boots, camouflage pants, a black polo shirt, a buzz cut, and deep-set eyes, he exuded a rugged, steady, and cool handsomeness. Miao Jing secretly took a photo of him, but Chen Yi caught her and flashed a roguish grin. “Like it?”
How could she not?
She remembered they had almost no photos from their teenage years, only a handful of ID pictures. Back then, they didn’t understand the importance of mementos and keepsakes—they didn’t even have a single photo of the two of them together.
Later, Chen Yi would send Miao Jing photos while she was at work: him and Gino playing frisbee with a dog in the park, strange fruits and vegetables from the market, a magnificent rainbow after an afternoon downpour, or the humble work lunch he shared with his colleagues.Of course, there were also photos of the two of them together—him casually draping an arm over her shoulder at scenic spots, their backs turned while playing badminton with friends, making funny faces while cooking in the kitchen, sweet sleeping faces in the quiet morning, and intimate kisses in the flickering candlelight.
Since she liked them, she saved them all, planning to look through them slowly when they grew old.
This security job only lasted three months. Chen Yi had befriended several colleagues, but it eventually ended because the beautiful female tenants in the apartment building frequently invited him upstairs to unclog pipes and exterminate insects, enthusiastically asking him to join their parties.
Unable to handle the attention, Chen Yi simply resigned and returned to being a leisurely househusband.
Miao Jing faced a similar situation. The Brazilian guy in her office was always eager to greet her with cheek kisses and hugs, classmates from language school regularly invited her on vacations, and she even received ambiguous calls at midnight, saying they missed her sweet voice and gentle smile, asking if she’d like to grab a drink at a bar.
This was, after all, passionate and fiery Latin America!
Just as she was about to fall asleep… a phone call left Chen Yi with a dark expression and terrifying glare. That night, Miao Jing was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. By the time she woke up the next day, it was almost noon. She found her voice hoarse and muffled, her head heavy and feet unsteady, as if she had a groggy cold.
Chen Yi and Pierre were chatting while watering the plants in the garden downstairs. Looking up, they saw Miao Jing in a white morning robe, leaning delicately against the balcony as she drank coffee. Chen Yi raised the hose and aimed it at her, sprinkling her with tiny droplets of water. The two men laughed heartily below, teasing her as a "lazy girl."
Rarely losing her composure, Miao Jing turned coldly and stomped back into the room.
Chen Yi hurried upstairs to join her, thoughtfully preparing seafood congee and freshly squeezed juice. With warm hands, he massaged her sore muscles and gently kissed the marks on her neck.
"Tired? Want to take a bath first? I’ll draw the water for you."
Weak all over, she held her coffee cup with a cold expression. "Have you considered finding another job?"
"Staying at home all day isn’t a solution. Having a job would make things easier for everyone. Maybe I can help you find a position that suits you…"
His tall frame, pressed close to hers, stiffened slightly. Chen Yi rested his chin heavily on her shoulder and said lazily, "What? You want me to be the breadwinner?"
Chapter 47: The Tough Guy’s Delicate Wife (Part 2)
"I don’t need you to earn money," Miao Jing denied outright. "It’s fine if you don’t work. You could also develop other hobbies, like playing soccer? Hmm… cycling, working out, hiking, traveling…"
In short, just don’t stay at home full of energy.
Chen Yi’s dark, profound eyes narrowed slightly, his brows furrowing—what did she mean by that? Did she think he had no money? Was his physique not good enough? Was his stamina lacking?
That couldn’t be it. The cost of living in Bogotá was so low, and he hadn’t spent much. His figure hadn’t deteriorated—his rock-hard abs were still firm. Thanks to the strong high-altitude UV rays, he’d even developed a sexy light bronze tan.
Did she think he had no hobbies and was dull and boring?
Coming from a rough background, he admittedly lacked refinement and education. He couldn’t engage in lofty conversations about literature, art, finance, or economics. The sports topics that heated up at parties were past his age of enthusiasm, and he disdained showing off like South American men, acting as if they were god’s gift to the world.
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