Whether Chen Yi was enjoying himself remained to be seen, but Miao Jing was clearly thriving. The sunshine in Medellín was brighter than in Bogotá, allowing for lighter and freer clothing choices. She showed him the hand-embroidered swimsuits and dresses she had bought, and though Chen Yi warned her not to go out at night, Miao Jing obediently nodded in agreement. Hours later, he stumbled upon her colleague’s vlog on social media—photos of Miao Jing, clad in a vibrant, body-hugging dress, strolling the streets late at night and chatting in bars.
Back in Bogotá, the rainy season was in full swing, with heavy downpours every day. The weather was gloomy and chilly. After her bath, Miao Jing emerged to find Chen Yi still lounging lazily on the sofa, smoking.
There was something different about his demeanor—a faint, weary despondency.
Even in bed, he was listless. Miao Jing stole glances at him repeatedly, but he remained absorbed in his phone game, his expression detached and indifferent. His gaze never once lingered on her, let alone noticed the new lingerie she wore—an exquisitely delicate and seductive style.
It was an evening ripe with romantic potential, yet Chen Yi spent most of the night gaming. The next morning, it was Miao Jing who got up to make breakfast. When it was time to leave, he rolled out of bed, threw on a jacket, and saw her off with a stubbled chin and a languid air. Once they reached the destination, he snorted coldly, turned on his heel, and walked away without another word.
That afternoon, when he came to pick her up from work, Chen Yi brought an extra jacket of his for her. Without a word, he led her home.
It was rare for Miao Jing to see him like this—a mix of awkward aloofness, pride, and suppressed resentment.
That night, as they prepared for bed, Miao Jing tried to tease him, her fingers tracing playful patterns over his body. Yet he stubbornly resisted touching her, muttering a tired "I’m exhausted" before coldly retreating to the living room sofa with his phone to continue gaming.
A fire crackled in the fireplace, making the living room warmer than the bedroom. He curled up on the sofa, half-reclining as he smoked and scrolled through his phone.
Miao Jing draped her nightgown over her shoulders and walked over, perching on the arm of the sofa. She gently smoothed the faint furrow between his brows and asked softly, "What’s wrong?"
Chen Yi didn’t answer, taking a deep drag of his cigarette before flicking the ash with unnecessary force.
"Did something bad happen?"
"Are you angry with me?"
His voice was impatient. "No."
"Then what is it? If you’re unhappy, let me cheer you up."
His tone was icy. "It won’t work."
Miao Jing felt both amused and a pang of sadness. "Why won’t it work?"
"Every day, I put effort into cooking for you, and you’ve never once said it was good. I finish whatever you leave behind, and you even dump my food in the trash."
"I even wash your underwear. When have I ever done such things for a woman in my life?"
"You look down on me for having no money, no education, no hobbies, and you won’t even let me play pool. You go out with other men to bookstores behind my back, and when you’re on business trips, you pretend to obey me but do the opposite. Whatever I tell you not to do, you go ahead and do it anyway."
"In bed, you’re either too tired or complain it takes too long. It’s always me putting in the effort to please you. What are you even tired of? Or you just make excuses to avoid it. Fine, do it if you want, don’t if you don’t. Whatever.Listening to his pent-up grievances, punctuated by his repeated use of "this old man", Miao Jing’s eyes curved into a smile. She leaned down and sealed his lips with a kiss, gently nibbling and savoring them.
She pressed herself fully against him, relishing the feeling of overpowering him—the way he frowned in suppressed frustration, seethed with anger, red-eyed and aggrieved, yet stubbornly held his ground.
"Chen Yi, you’re so adorable," she murmured with a smile, tracing the tip of his nose."Get lost, since when am I cute?" He gritted his teeth, pushing her away with his shoulder, yet his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her securely in the crook of his elbow to keep her from stumbling.
She clung to him, comfortably nestling into a cozy position, then pinched his ear and whispered softly—first coaxing him into obedience with a "shh," followed by some risqué dirty talk, and finally surrendering with a game meant to please him… He really was adorable, exactly like the cuteness from ten years ago.
Chapter 48: The Latino Mixed Kid (Part 1)
Chen Yi had found another new job.
Near Miao Jing’s company, there was a somewhat famous coffee art gallery where Chen Yi worked as a barista roasting coffee beans—all because she had mentioned one morning, "The coffee from the café tastes better."
At noon, when she went out for lunch with colleagues and stopped by to buy a coffee, she saw Chen Yi crouched in front of the roaster, wearing a white shirt and a black apron, his body exuding an alluring coffee aroma. He lifted his baseball cap and whistled at her—clean-cut yet with a hint of roguish charm.
Si Nan was one of the only two Chinese women in the company, working as a Spanish translator and in finance. She was lively and outgoing, always coming and going with Miao Jing, and she often remarked, "Your boyfriend is really handsome."
"Chen Yi is so good to you."
Although Miao Jing had moved out to live with Chen Yi, their apartment wasn’t far from the company. She often socialized with colleagues, joining them for meals and activities to expand her social circle, so everyone was quite familiar with Chen Yi and could chat with him casually now and then.
The company also had male colleagues dispatched from China—sales representatives or after-sales engineers—along with some friends from their social circle. All in all, they knew quite a few people, but most were on their own, coming and going solo. It was rare to see a couple like Miao Jing and Chen Yi working abroad together.
They made a well-matched pair and were deeply attached to each other. Si Nan, who was close to Miao Jing, often visited their home. During conversations, when asked about their relationship history, Miao Jing would say, "We’ve known each other for many years, lived in the same neighborhood as kids, and even attended the same middle school…"
She didn’t go into too much detail, keeping it vague—sounding like the typical childhood sweethearts and teenage classmates story.
Si Nan had been abroad for three years, counting down the days until her annual trip back home. She loved chatting with Miao Jing about life in China, but Miao Jing didn’t seem to have much nostalgia for home. While everyone else saved their vacation days for returning to China, she and Chen Yi traveled elsewhere, with no apparent plans to visit family back home.
Miao Jing was the kind of top student commonly seen in China—prestigious university, excellent job, adapting well to her overseas assignment with outstanding work ethic and skills, and firm principles in how she dealt with people. But Chen Yi was different. From his self-introduction, it seemed he hadn’t attended university, nor was he a seasoned businessperson or a down-to-earth technical worker.
In other words, he stayed idle at home. His clothing and style didn’t suggest he came from a wealthy family, leading others to speculate privately. During outings and gatherings, it was always Miao Jing who paid the bill or swiped her card—even covering the rent and living expenses. While everyone else dressed modestly, embodying the restrained and introverted Chinese demeanor, Chen Yi’s attire had a rebellious edge. Sometimes he wore shabby, careless outfits, giving off an unserious and unambitious vibe.
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