The Yandere Queen's Manual for Training Her Wife - Chapter 119

When the two returned to the West well Villa, they received a package.

It was a cube about the size of a basketball, wrapped in a single layer of white packaging, with no sender information at all.

Xia Mintang held the box in her hands and gave it a little shake. It wasn’t heavy, so it probably wasn’t a bomb or anything dangerous.

Still uneasy, she pulled up the security footage from the reception.

The progress bar only went back less than half an hour, revealing a tall, sharp-featured woman carrying the white box.

Song Mo—she personally came to deliver the package?

Xia Mintang held the box thoughtfully.

A few days ago, Song Mo had sent her a message: an address with a single line of text.

[If you want to know the key to her memory switches, if you want to cure her, bring her here.]

At that time, Xia Mintang had paused for a few seconds looking at the message, then blocked the sender again.

At first, she had been somewhat curious in a “watching from the sidelines” way, but now that Qin Yan had suddenly reverted to nineteen years old, Song Mo’s attempts to “treat” her were completely irrelevant.

Subconsciously, she felt that thirty-one-year-old Qin Yan had much more ability to handle unexpected situations.

The Qin Yan beside Xia Mintang also saw the security footage and quickly recognized the woman.

“This woman… isn’t she the one we met at the ‘Wei Xian’ restaurant last time?”

“You have a good memory,” Xia Mintang replied automatically, still distracted, her tone neutral rather than complimentary.

“How did she think to send us a package?”

The Song Mo that nineteen-year-old Qin Yan didn’t know took the box from Xia Mintang and began opening it without much pretense.

She fetched a pair of scissors, her fingers nimble and expression casual—but when she saw what was inside, her expression changed.

Xia Mintang noticed Qin Yan’s sudden pallor and instinctively held her hand.

Her gaze then shifted to the contents of the box: a doll with a head larger than its body, wearing a somewhat ugly, crooked smile. The doll looked old, with tears and scratches on its clothing.

It was… just a very ordinary doll, albeit ugly and worn.

Seeing that Qin Yan had no immediate reaction, Xia Mintang picked up the doll with her free hand, examining it carefully.

After confirming it was just a doll with no hidden mechanisms, she put it back down and gently shook Qin Yan’s hand.

“What’s wrong?”

Qin Yan exhaled and looked at her concerned wife. After a few seconds of silence, she said,

“I don’t know… I just felt very uncomfortable seeing this doll.”

Xia Mintang thought: Song Mo clearly has ill intentions. Even the nineteen-year-old Qin Yan, who lacked memory, felt uneasy just looking at it. If it had been the thirty-one-year-old, complete with memories…

She didn’t dwell on it further, placing the lid back on the box.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, we’ll just throw it away.”

“I’ll throw it away,” Qin Yan said, picking up the box. “I’ll throw it far away.”

Seeing her still pale, Xia Mintang wanted to follow and check on her.

Qin Yan shook her head again. “I can do it myself.”

The emphasis on “myself” was clear.

Xia Mintang didn’t insist—everyone needed their own space when feeling down. Besides, this was Westwell Villa, under full surveillance, so Qin Yan would be safe alone.

It took nearly half an hour for Qin Yan to throw the box away. When she returned, dinner was ready.

She sat at the table, her mood much better than half an hour ago. Using the serving utensils, she placed portions of the best-looking dishes onto a plate, habitually feeding her wife first.

Seeing her face return to normal, Xia Mintang didn’t bring up the earlier incident, being considerate enough to let it go.

The meal went smoothly.

Because Qin Yan had a tattoo on her left scapula, she slept lying on her right side that night—the first time the two shared a bed this way.

Xia Mintang found it slightly uncomfortable.

Since Qin Yan reverted to nineteen, she had spent some time in the hospital and, after discharge, had less energy than before.

During the past few days, when they slept together, it had been a purely restful sleep.

At first, they had followed the proper way of holding hands while lying down. But each morning, they found themselves curled up face-to-face—more precisely, Xia Mintang curling into Qin Yan’s arms.

The younger Qin Yan gave off a gentle, harmless aura, making it impossible not to want to get close.

Especially when she was ill, it stirred an inexplicable protective instinct in Xia Mintang.

She had never realized she even had this… tendency.

Of course, it was her little secret; she never mentioned it.

But whenever they were together, she would silently draw closer.

The bedroom’s main light was off, leaving only a bedside lamp emitting a warm glow.

Xia Mintang watched Qin Yan’s shoulder rise and fall with each breath, knowing she was not yet asleep.

Rolling over twice in bed and seeing Qin Yan unwilling to talk, she decided to take the initiative.

She propped herself up slightly, nudging Qin Yan’s silk-covered left shoulder and starting a conversation.

“How’s your tattoo feeling now?”

Qin Yan’s shoulder twitched. She didn’t respond, but turned over onto her back and pulled down the silk sleepwear a little.

Under the lamp’s light, Xia Mintang saw that the protective film had been discarded. The wound had coagulated over a few hours, with no more exudate, and the pattern looked clearer than when it was at the tattoo shop.

The wings gleamed on her jade-like skin, fluttering with her breathing, as if ready to take flight at any moment.

[Tattooing a pair of angel wings—now I’m my wife’s guardian angel.]

Xia Mintang recalled Qin Yan’s words before the tattoo; at the time, she hadn’t thought much of it.

Now, seeing it like this, she felt her heart stir.

Acting on impulse, she bent down and placed a kiss on the wings.

“Very beautiful.”

Qin Yan froze for a second, lowered her gaze, and her long, dense eyelashes fluttered like wings.

The initial kiss came purely from admiration, without further intent.

Fearing she might overwhelm Qin Yan, Xia Mintang was about to pull away when her wrist was grabbed.

“Wife, I want you.”

Qin Yan’s gaze burned with desire.

Xia Mintang’s face flushed. She had ignited this fire herself.

Now that Qin Yan had less energy than before, Xia Mintang cautiously removed her sleepwear.

Her delicate, gentle kisses followed along the neck.

Xia Mintang’s hands rested on her smooth, rounded shoulders, her eyes locked on the glowing wings.

With no condom as a barrier, she could feel Qin Yan’s warmth even more vividly.

After some restraint, Xia Mintang had not expected to be so sensitive.

Even a shallow touch made her body respond.

Qin Yan noticed the change and gazed at her intensely.

Xia Mintang, embarrassed, reached for a nearby thin blanket—but was interrupted by an unexpected deep motion.

“Uh… ha~”

Her delicate instep tensed, and her flushed petals seemed overwhelmed, yet clenched tightly, not letting the fingers go.

Qin Yan knew this was a response of pleasure.

Even with one hand barely engaged, she maintained her rhythm.

Until her palms were covered with moisture.

Xia Mintang momentarily lost herself, seeing only the wings before her eyes.

Truthfully, this Qin Yan was extraordinarily gentle.

Xia Mintang’s quick surrender was purely due to her heightened sensitivity.

After a short pause, before Qin Yan could make another move, Xia Mintang rolled her over slightly.

“Rest a little more.”

She located the two mounds of snow on the wings and gathered them, pressing them gently.

A soft hum escaped from Qin Yan’s lips, but she didn’t stop Xia Mintang from continuing.

After a long time of inactivity, Xia Mintang eagerly continued, coloring the jade-like skin with delicate hues.

The one beneath her breathed faster, the angel wings on her left shoulder fluttering more quickly.

…

Deep into the night, the first to fall asleep was Qin Yan.

Rarely the active partner, Xia Mintang took responsibility for cleaning up and changing the sheets afterward.

By the time she finished, the clock had moved significantly.

Qin Yan lay on the bed, sleeping deeply, undisturbed by the changed sheets.

Xia Mintang sat on the bed, tracing Qin Yan’s elegant, refined features with her fingers, a mix of joy and worry on her face.

She liked Qin Yan very much now, but felt a twinge of concern.

Tomorrow, she would discuss it properly—perhaps visit a domestic psychologist first.

Side by side, Xia Mintang and Qin Yan fell asleep, Xia Mintang’s mind only occupied with this thought.

Summer mornings came early. Xia Mintang woke at 7 a.m.

Though there had been mutual indulgence last night, both had exercised restraint—mostly Qin Yan’s.

After sleeping, Xia Mintang felt energetic. She squinted and stretched, habitually reaching for the bedside, only to find it empty.

What happened?

A missed grasp instantly woke her up.

Slipping on her slippers, she checked the bathroom and found no one.

After quickly washing up, she headed to the dining room.

Zhou Aunty had already set breakfast—one serving.

Seeing her come down, she politely greeted, “Good morning, Madam.”

“Good morning, Zhou Auntie.” Xia Mintang approached the table and couldn’t help but ask,

“Where is she?”

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