Truth be told, one big reason Ms. Fang was still single at her age was because of how tightly she clung to her old-school principles. Despite being surrounded by eligible bachelors over the years, none of them had really stirred anything in her heart.
She'd wavered once or twice—she was human, after all—but every time she thought about giving in, her mother's words echoed in her mind: "No proper girl should ever cross the line before marriage." It was like a spell—ingrained so deeply that even temptation couldn't break it.
"Here, Auntie, don't get too worked up. Let's get you to the bedroom so you can lie down and rest, okay?" Doug Feng said gently, carefully supporting Ms. Fang by the arm.
As he tucked her into bed like a model son-in-law, Ms. Fang gave a little sigh and said, "Xiao Doug, our family only has one daughter—Qingfang. Now that things between you two have… progressed… I won't be the evil mother-in-law who splits up young lovers. But listen, you'd better treat her right! By the way, what's your family situation like?"
Doug blinked. This was the exact moment he realized he was in deep. The kind of deep where you needed scuba gear to breathe.
To the older generation, a woman who wasn't a "pure flower" anymore was… well, less valuable. Ms. Fang was clearly one of those believers. She was already on the "he's responsible now" train, barreling straight toward Marriageville.
Truth be told, she'd orchestrated the whole scene today—dragging him here under the guise of concern—just to corner him into making a commitment.
Doug squeezed out a polite, earnest smile. "Auntie, I truly care about Qingfang. I'll always treat her right. When the time comes, I'll definitely marry her. I'm the only child in my family, and my income's stable. I can give her a good life—you have my word."
He let out a silent sigh. This whole thing was getting messier by the second, but for now, he had to play along and keep Ms. Fang calm.
"Here, let me help you take off your shoes. Just rest for a bit, Auntie—you shouldn't get too worked up with your high blood pressure."
Doug knelt to remove her shoes, placing them neatly by the bed—and that's when he saw it.
A glimmer. A flash of red and white.
There it was.
His precious, long-lost lottery ticket. The one that could change his life, hiding peacefully beneath the bed.
So that's where you've been, you slippery little fortune magnet.
He flashed back to earlier that morning—how he'd rushed into the bathroom to change into his own clothes and jeans, then ducked into Qingfang's bedroom to hide. The ticket must've slipped out then, drifting under the bed like a scene from a tragic comedy.
But now, with Ms. Fang lying right there, the ticket just out of reach under the bed frame—it was like a boss-level stealth mission. He couldn't just reach in and yank it out. No, this would require strategy.
"You're really quite thoughtful, Xiao Doug. My Qingfang has good taste," Ms. Fang said approvingly as he tucked the blanket around her.
Before he could say anything, Ms. Fang's daughter entered the room.
"Mom, Doug has work tomorrow. Maybe let him head home early?" Qingfang suggested politely.
"No!" came the sharp reply—from both Ms. Fang and Doug in perfect unison.
Doug added quickly, "Right! Auntie shouldn't be left alone in her condition. I'll stay and keep her company. Qingfang, maybe you could go wash the dishes?"
No way I'm leaving without that ticket. Who knows when I'll get another chance to come back here—and the ticket's only valid for a month!
Qingfang narrowed her eyes, clearly seeing through Doug's ploy, but unable to object outright in front of her mother. She shot him a death glare before muttering under her breath and marching off to the kitchen.
Ms. Fang didn't waste a second. As soon as Qingfang was out of earshot, she leaned in and whispered, "Doug, since you're from the city too and your parents live here, why don't we arrange a nice meal where both families can meet? We could even talk about setting a wedding date."
Doug choked on air.
"W-What? Didn't you just say earlier we shouldn't rush?"
"Rush? Our Qingfang gave herself to you, and you're still talking about slow?" Ms. Fang's voice turned icy. "Fine, maybe no date yet, but at least let the parents meet. Unless… you're planning to walk away from this, huh? Is that it?"
I'm in hell, Doug thought, smiling weakly. "No, no, Auntie! Of course not. It's just, my parents haven't retired yet, and they're really busy with work… But soon! I'll find a time soon, I promise!"
He was sweating bullets. Introducing real parents to a fake relationship? That wasn't just complicated—it was mission impossible.
Still crouched near the bed, he kept his face neutral while secretly inching one hand under it, trying to reach the ticket. Each time, it was just out of reach.
Ugh! Why didn't I think of this earlier? It's too far on the left. Why not just try the right side, you moron?
Cursing himself silently, Doug got up, walked around the bed, and used the perfect excuse: "Let me adjust this blanket on the other side, Auntie."
He bent down, reached under the frame—and bingo! His fingers brushed against the crinkly plastic bag. He pulled it out like a magician producing a rabbit from a hat, quickly slipping it into his pants pocket.
Mission accomplished. He nearly fist-pumped.
"Auntie, I'll go help Qingfang now. You just rest."
Without waiting for a reply, he bolted.
In the kitchen, Qingfang was scrubbing dishes with enough force to start a fire from friction. When she saw him, she glared like a dragon preparing to breathe fire.
"Had fun sweet-talking my mom? Feeling like a real future son-in-law now, huh?" she asked in a syrupy-sweet tone laced with venom.
Doug gave her a sheepish grin. "Hey now, I was just keeping her company. You know how fragile her health is…"
He took a step back toward the front door. "Anyway! I'll head out now."
With his mission complete and ticket secured, he knew it was time to flee before Mount Qingfang erupted.
Back in his own home, Doug had barely changed out of his clothes when his mom stormed out from the kitchen.
"Young man! Why are you home this late? Didn't you have that test today? Tell me you weren't at the internet café with that no-good rat again!"
Doug sighed.
From one interrogation straight into another. Can't a man just catch a break?