Tokyo: Starting with taking on his wife's debts

Although Riko is the president and will take over the company in the future, Hideaki is clearly in control of Riko, and it is Hideaki who is currently in charge.

He doesn't seem to care whether female employees are single, divorced, have children, or whether they will take marriage leave or maternity leave.

The hope for success in your career lies here.

You can't let your boss misunderstand you because of some personal issues.

When Ai Iijima confided in Hideaki earlier, although Hideaki wasn't exactly known for his good temper, the way he looked at her didn't show any contempt or disdain. Instead, it was filled with sympathy and care, which gave her a lot of courage to be honest.

"Hmm... You have ideals and ambitions. I believe in you. You will succeed. Hurry up and go home to move your things!"

Is this what a real career woman is like? Xiuming greatly admires her "independent" personality.

It's already 7 p.m., and the landlord has given her an ultimatum for not moving out of her rented apartment by 8 p.m. tonight: if she doesn't move out, he'll throw her clothes out the door.

"Thank you..." Misako lowered her head and bowed deeply again.

His words of thanks were slurred with a heavy nasal tone, as if he were about to cry at any moment.

She remained motionless, her knuckles white as she gripped the white apron.

"Is there anything else?"

"I……"

"I really hate your nagging," Xiuming scratched his head. "Just spit it out!"

Her stammering manner was infuriating.

"You...you could...help...me...I..."

"Fine! Fine! Fine..." Xiuming strode to the door, grabbed her arm, and pulled her outside. "Hurry up and go, hurry up and go!"

It's already this late. Since the game developers on the 28th floor haven't come down, they won't be coming down tonight, and there's nothing urgent for the time being.

Misako's abilities are currently among the best in the supermarket, so we should still protect her.

Misako lives in Chiyoda Ward.

Since it was a move, Xiuming knew there would be a lot of stuff, so he called Ayako's older brother, Mr. Miyamoto, asking him to drive over in his van. However, Mrs. Miyamoto answered the phone, saying that Mr. Miyamoto was working overtime.

Sugita Naoto's factory hasn't had any overtime activities for a long time because of poor performance. Miyamoto must be using "company funds" to work overtime at the bathhouse again.

“Actually…actually, it’s not much…it’s just…” Misako blushed and stammered, “It’s just…”

"Got it, got it! Let's go, let's go... call a taxi..."

Hideaki dragged Misako to the intersection.

Her flushed face, thick neck, and stammering manner, combined with her previous lie about being married with children, suggest she's probably just playing a role.

That's really cheesy.

Misako's forehead was flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. She was clenching her teeth and closing her eyes, her lips almost bleeding from biting them. Her embarrassed and conflicted expression made it seem as if she was about to crash into the road and die at any moment.

Although I really wanted to complain, I decided against it considering her current state. She's too emotional; if she gets carried away and runs onto the road and gets under a car wheel, that would be a real problem.

Hideaki hailed a taxi, and the driver was an old acquaintance, a man in his forties named Mr. Shiraishi Ichiro.

Misako was quite perceptive and quickly opened the back door for Hideaki.

After Hideaki got in, he saw Misako about to open the passenger door and waved her over, saying, "Why are you sitting in the front? Sit next to me and let's rehearse."

"rehearse?"

Misako hesitated for a moment, but still followed Hideaki's instructions and sat next to him in the back seat, with only half of her buttocks on the edge, and there was almost two people's width between them.

"Of course we need to rehearse. What if we mess up? Sit closer, come closer," Xiuming said sternly, gesturing to the person next to her. "Call me 'husband' so I can hear it."

*Screech!* This nearly 30-year veteran driver stalled while trying to start the engine.

"Huh?" Misako had just carefully sat a little closer when she slid off the seat, her face turning even redder. She was stuck in the middle of the car seat and couldn't get up.

Hideaki also slammed his head against the back of the front seat, grabbed Misako's wrist, pulled her out, and then pressed her down next to him, saying irritably, "Old driver, how do you drive?"

"Sorry, I'll be more careful next time..." the driver said in a muffled voice, without any intention of apologizing.

The taxi slowly started moving. Hideaki, too lazy to respond, tilted his head and said to Misako, "Don't make me say it a second time, hurry up."

Misako lowered her head, her cheeks flushed and covered in a fine layer of sweat. Her ears were also bright red, and the tip of her nose was almost sunken into her chest. She stammered, "I...I mean...I..."

She hadn't really thought about playing that role; she just hoped that when the landlord mocked her, he would speak up for her and help her pay the rent she owed, which would then be deducted from her paycheck.

Although Riko had received an advance on her salary, she transferred the money to her mother so that her family would know she was doing well.

"I don't care what you mean, I want my own meaning. Immediately, right now, I want to hear it."

Regardless of her intentions, Xiuming believed that his method was the best, especially after seeing her shameful expression, as if she wanted to bury her head in her chest, which further convinced him of his belief.

One shout can dispel a thousand sorrows.

"Husband...husband..." Misako almost tore her skirt to shreds, tucking the green skirt and white apron into her hands, revealing ten red scratch marks on her fair knees.

"Speak louder." Xiuming squinted, frowned, and brought his ear closer.

"Husband..." Misako's voice trembled with sobs.

“Please don’t be like Riko,” Hideaki said with a serious expression and an air of experience, his brows furrowed. “You’re the career type, so be more normal.”

"Husband..." Misako's body swayed as if she were drunk, and her voice seemed to be a murmur in her sleep.

"Don't be so shy, act more normal."

"me……"

Misako suddenly pressed her right hand to her chest, her face flushed red as if dripping blood, her hazy eyes becoming unfocused, her slightly parted bright red lips trembling as she gasped for breath, her body went limp, she slid off the seat and leaned against the car door.

In a moment of surprise, Xiuming quickly grabbed her arm, lifted her up and placed her on the seat. She was still limp, and since he couldn't let her head rest against the car window, he let her rest her head on his shoulder.

But instead of leaning on him, she slid off Xiuming's shoulder and, just before falling onto his lap, frantically raised her right hand to grab the back of the front seat and sat back down.

"I'm sorry...I...I..."

Misako stood with her legs together, turned to the side with her back to Hideaki, and whispered, "I... I'm a little excited."

"Tell me, what's so special about this title? What exactly triggered your sensitive spot?"

Misako covered her flushed face with her hands, "I...I..."

This title has become both familiar and unfamiliar in her world.

What others call familiarity, in her world, may mean a lifetime of never crossing paths again.

She never imagined that she would shout it out in this way, in such a real way.

The three short syllables struck my heart hard, making me dizzy.

“You look much better now, so let’s do a ‘desensitization campaign’ and keep shouting until you can do it without blushing or skipping a beat, like me.”

In the rearview mirror, the driver, Shiraishi Ichiro, glanced at Hideaki's face, then looked away, his eyes filled with contempt.

Misako placed her hands on her knees, then grabbed the hem of her green skirt, and slowly straightened herself.

She kept her head down, her lips slightly parted, and took a breath. As she inhaled, the front of her dress quickly bulged, covering her fair, flushed chin, but did not fall down. She held her breath.

Then, she turned her head slightly, her black eyes under her trembling eyelashes turning towards Xiuming, just as their gazes met. Her whole body trembled, her nostrils flaring, and she quickly looked away.

Now, she actually seems even more shy than Riko?

Xiuming asked, "You're not actually taking this seriously, are you?"

"No...no." Misako lowered her head and shook it, her murmur filled with desolation, "I...I, I don't deserve it..."

For a woman in her late thirties who is eager to get married, such a title is itself a source of excitement.

Moreover, the man she was facing not only had a good appearance, but was also a successful businessman who made a lot of money. Even though he was married, he was also a womanizer.

At one point, a completely unprecedented thought popped into Misako's mind: should she have a child with him, without getting married? She hoped to have the experience of giving birth and raising a child, so that she wouldn't be alone when she got old, and that her life would be complete.

But then he thought about his own age, being 12 years older than him, and how he didn't lack women, and his enthusiasm was quickly dampened.

"What do you mean by 'not good enough'..."

"Sir, we've arrived. Please settle your bill and get out of the car."

The car suddenly stopped, and Mr. Shiraishi coldly interrupted Hideaki, his tone filled with deep contempt.

Hideaki got out of the car, handed a 10,000 yen bill to the driver, took the change, grabbed the car window and said, "Mr. Shiraishi, I've ridden in your car three times already, so we're pretty familiar. I don't care if you look down on me, but you shouldn't have given me less change. Count it, didn't you give me 100 yen less?"

"Hmph!" The driver stepped on the gas and sped away.

Chapter 135 A New Dating Terminology: "Paid Dating" (Happy Mid-Autumn Festival)

As the taxi drove away, a thick plume of black smoke billowed from its rear.

Hideaki pointed to the departing taxi, tilted his head and said to Misako, "At his age, his child should be around twenty years old. It would be best if it's not a daughter, otherwise I'd like to visit his home."

Hideaki's dirty jokes didn't seem to elicit any reaction from Misako.

She was still blushing and looking down, her hands gripping the white apron in front of her, rubbing it.

She was still too nervous.

“When I’m joking, you have to learn to agree,” Xiuming said, leaning down to listen. “Don’t you know the saying ‘a wife follows her husband’? Now say something like, ‘My husband is so great.’”

“Mr. Yamanaka…please…please stop joking…” Misako’s shoulders trembled slightly, and she actually tore a rip in her white apron.

That stuttering, crying voice was similar to Riko's voice back then.

However, Riko's appearance and voice match perfectly, giving her a pitiful look, while Misako, a typical abstinent and strong woman, looks surprisingly funny when she's frightened like this.

"Otherwise, you'd actually take it seriously, wouldn't you?" Hideaki suppressed a laugh and continued, "You can take it seriously, I don't mind, and Riko certainly wouldn't mind either, what about you?"

"I...I...I, my home isn't far from here...Let's go..."

She said she turned her back, lowered her head, and walked forward without looking to see if there were any lampposts ahead.

Just as she was about to crash into him, Xiuming patted her on the shoulder.

Misako's body trembled, and she froze in place as if she had been frozen in place. Her heavy breathing sounded like a bellows.

“Take off your apron when you’re walking down the street!” Xiuming let go of her hand, walked up to her, and continued, “This dress is quite fashionable, all green, it makes you look twenty years younger, you’re the prettiest person on the whole street.”

"..."

Misako didn't say anything more. A layer of fine sweat appeared on the tip of her nose. She lowered her head, quickly took off her apron, rolled it into a ball, and ran away as if her life depended on it. The green skirt, which went past her knees, was lifted up and down by the wind.