The Yandere Queen's Manual for Training Her Wife - Chapter 32

The phone call didn’t last long. After hanging up, Qin Yan returned to the table in the living room.

By then, Xia Mingtang had already arranged another vase of flowers—brighter and fuller than the last batch.

Seeing Qin Yan, she proudly invited her to admire her work.
“Come take a look. How’s my arrangement this time?”

Qin Yan glanced at the flowers, then walked behind Xia Mingtang, wrapping her arms around her from the back.

Warm and soft pressure came from her back. At first, Xia Mingtang was a little uncomfortable, but when she noticed the tightly bandaged paw hovering at her waist, she didn’t struggle.

“What are you doing, clinging like this all of a sudden?” Xia Mingtang’s tone carried some annoyance.

Qin Yan lowered her head, burying half her face into the pale, delicate neck before her, inhaling the floral scent on the girl’s skin.

After a while, she spoke.
“Nothing. I just missed you a little.”

“Aren’t I right here all the time?” Xia Mingtang found her words strange.

“Will you really always be here?” Qin Yan’s arms around her tightened.

Xia Mingtang was squeezed so tightly that she could barely move, unable to even turn around.

She assumed the injury had made Qin Yan fragile and insecure, so she huffed helplessly, “Where else would I go if not here? But hey, can you let me go first?”

“No.” Qin Yan said, using only her injured right hand loosely to hold her, while her left slipped under the Versace limited-edition shirt, fingers playing a melody over smooth skin.

Xia Mingtang: …

She nearly slapped her away, but when she caught sight of the glaring white bandage wrapped around her waist, she held back.

Grabbing the injured hand, she turned around, glaring at the mischievous woman. “I said—”

Halfway through her words, she realized something was wrong. The hand that had been teasing her back had now, due to her turn, slid somewhere much softer.

Qin Yan looked at the little fox’s flushed face and smiled tenderly, her fingers “casually” kneading.

Xia Mingtang: !

Heaven help her—she was actually starting to feel something!

Both of them were standing at the table. Xia Mingtang’s calves trembled. One hand clutched Qin Yan, the other pressed the table edge, barely keeping herself upright.

In broad daylight, really?

Unbearable!

She bent her waist, retreating two steps to free her most vulnerable spot from those devilish claws.

Straightening her clothes, she snapped, “With that hand practically crippled, can’t you just behave for once?”

The warmth of Qin Yan’s left hand faded quickly, leaving only a cold emptiness.

She pressed her lips together, brows laced with melancholy, looking like a pitiful woman abandoned by a heartless lover.

Originally, Xia Mingtang was the one with reason on her side, but the sight made her feel guilty instead.
Was I too harsh just now?

Dr. Li had said the injury was serious and might leave lasting damage. And here she was, rubbing salt in the wound.

He’d also said that keeping the patient in a good mood would help recovery.

After a mental tug-of-war, Xia Mingtang dug out patience she didn’t know she had, trying to comfort her.
“Don’t be so down. As long as you take care of it and do rehab properly, your hand will be fine.”

Qin Yan looked at her and politely suggested, “Then… can I do some rehab now? Will Tang Tang help me?”

“How exactly do you want to rehab?”

Before she could finish asking, she was pulled down onto the sofa.

One arm circled her waist, the other—along with lips and tongue—resumed the “rehab” Qin Yan had started earlier.

Xia Mingtang felt as though ants crawled all over her skin, her mind roaring:
You injured your right hand—so why are you rehabbing your left?!

Forget it. Patient’s happiness matters.

As it turned out, being one-handed was inconvenient.

Normally by now, Xia Mingtang would already be “mmm-mmm”-ing incoherently.

But this time, she actually had enough leisure to check her phone.

The message from An Ran was half work, half personal concern—not urgent.

But Xia Mingtang didn’t want Qin Yan to feel too triumphant, so she deliberately replied at that moment.

Seeing this, Qin Yan clamped her lips around the small, round earlobe, punishing her for the distraction.

Startled, Xia Mingtang’s fingers slipped—sending out half a typed reply.

It looked ridiculous. She hurried to delete it but was met with An Ran’s “?”

Flustered, she sent a voice note: “Senior, my screen’s broken. I’ll reply later.”

The moment it sent, Qin Yan attacked her weakest spot mercilessly.

Trying to recall whether her voice had sounded odd, Xia Mingtang’s irritation only grew.

Like a slippery fish, she struggled hard to escape the relentless tide.

In the scuffle, she accidentally pressed down on Qin Yan’s bandaged hand.

Qin Yan: …

She didn’t cry out this time, but Xia Mingtang could feel her suddenly stiffen.

Pulling out the trapped hand, she saw the bandage stained red again.

All else forgotten, she scrambled up to fetch the first-aid kit.

She had just pulled up her pants when Qin Yan grabbed her wrist. “I’m fine.”

Looking like she still wanted to continue.

Is she insane?

The doctor so much as pressed lightly before, and she screamed in pain. Now she’s bleeding and claims it’s fine?

Xia Mingtang lost all patience. “If you don’t take care of your injury, don’t even think about touching me again.”

The nuclear strike landed. The noisy patient finally quieted down.

She returned quickly with the first-aid kit. Qin Yan sat there, staring intently at her intact left hand, cherishing it far more than her right.

At first Xia Mingtang didn’t understand. But as she got closer, she saw the glistening trace on that hand—her face flushed red in an instant.

How could anyone be this shameless?!

“Go wash your hands.” She grabbed her and dragged her to the bathroom.

Warm water flowed from the faucet. Since the injured hand couldn’t touch water, Xia Mingtang personally soaped up the restless left, scrubbing away the sticky evidence of herself.

It was a bizarre sensation.

Qin Yan, however, was unusually obedient—spreading her fingers, letting water run through.

Irritated, Xia Mingtang’s motions were rougher than intended.

The jade-like hand shimmered under the stream, as if a work of art.

Smooth skin, short rounded nails, faint pink tint.

Perfect for holding a brush or playing piano.

Instead, it only ever did indecent things!

She remembered the first time she came to the inn, seeing those same hands flicking abacus beads with a restrained, old-world elegance.

Back then, the nails were longer.

When had they been cut so short? She couldn’t recall.

She zoned out until that hand slid through her fingers, locking with hers.

Snapping back, she turned off the water.

Barely two hours after coming back from the hospital, the wound had reopened. Xia Mingtang laid down strict rules:

1. No using the right hand.
2. No touching the bandage.
3. No dirty thoughts—and absolutely no dirty actions.

The first two rules, Qin Yan accepted. But the third…

“Not even thinking?” Her brows lowered, voice innocent.

“Yes! Not even in your head!” Xia Mingtang stood akimbo, fierce. “If you dare, I’ll move out tonight.”

She’d learned firsthand how fast Qin Yan turned thought into action.

Unfair as the rules were, Qin Yan had no choice but to agree. Otherwise, the little fox really would run.

To make it official, Xia Mingtang even handwrote the “Three Rules” and had her press a handprint.

From then on, strict enforcement.

That evening, they sat on opposite ends of the sofa—Xia Mingtang on her tablet, Qin Yan with a book.

Xia Mingtang was still hooked on Candy Crush. After showing off her skills last time, she’d gotten addicted.

Three minutes a level, and after each victory she’d glance over to check on Qin Yan.

After beating level 23, she looked up—just in time to meet Qin Yan’s gaze. Her brows knit prettily.
“You’re staring at me again. Are you thinking something indecent?”

Qin Yan thought: You really do know me.

But aloud she said, “If you weren’t looking at me, how would you know I was looking at you? Unless… you’re the one with a dirty mind?”

Such clear, melodious tones—saying the most infuriating things.

What a case of the thief crying “Stop thief”!

Nearly fooled, Xia Mingtang finally retorted, “I look because I care about your injury. But when you look at me—who knows what you’re imagining.”

Qin Yan blinked her dewy eyes, raising her bandaged hand innocently.

“With me like this, what could I imagine? But you, Tang Tang… are you perhaps worried this hand won’t be able to please you anymore?”

Xia Mingtang: !

Damn it!

If she couldn’t make mischief, she had to make filthy jokes instead!

Unable to win, Xia Mingtang buried herself furiously in her game.

Qin Yan smirked in victory, watching her openly.

But though she had the upper hand verbally, the Three Rules kept her from pushing further.

Later, after Xia Mingtang re-dressed her wound, they lay on opposite sides of the bed.

After the day’s chaos, even energetic Xia Mingtang was exhausted, asleep by eleven.

Qin Yan, on the other hand, was wide awake.

Phone dimmed, she typed slowly with one hand. Ten minutes later, she hit send.

An Ran’s words from earlier still rang in her ears:

[The Ji and Xia families arranged the marriage years ago. Back then, your little one wasn’t even of age.]

[If I’m not mistaken, their wedding is set for sometime within the next six months.]

Beside her, the little fox slept soundly. Qin Yan leaned over, brushing a featherlight kiss across her tender cheek.

I won’t let you marry anyone else.

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