My Mother-in-Law and I Became the Internet’s Hottest Power Couple

Jiang Lan didn’t let Yu Wanqiu see her off. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for Yu Wanqiu to accompany her anyway—should she invite her upstairs? But making her wait downstairs didn’t seem right either.
The Jiang family lived in an old residential complex in City B. The neighborhood had seen better days, its exterior painted a faded reddish hue, with the paint on the fitness equipment chipped and peeling. The buildings were only six stories high, with no elevators.
Their home was on the third floor of Unit 3, Room 305—a three-bedroom, two-bath apartment spanning about 120 square meters. Xie Yunzhen wasn’t home, nor was Jiang's father. Jiang Lan retrieved the household register and wandered around her room for a while.
This was her home. Though she usually stayed at school and rarely came back, her room was spotless. The bedsheet was a light blue with tiny floral prints, and a thin summer quilt lay folded on the bed, flanked by two stuffed animals. The walls were adorned with rows of certificates—from violin competitions, cello performances—proof of her childhood achievements. A stack of awards sat neatly on her desk.
On the balcony, Xie Yunzhen’s potted plants thrived, and freshly laundered clothes hung drying. The apartment had two air conditioners—one in the living room, another in her bedroom, the latter covered with a pink casing. The home wasn’t spacious, but it radiated warmth.
Jiang Lan snapped a couple of photos, suddenly reluctant to leave. She called Xie Yunzhen, “Mom, when will you be back? I’d like to have dinner before I go.”
Xie Yunzhen chuckled, “Dinner? Since when did you ever like my cooking?”
Jiang ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍Lan felt a pang of guilt. How could she have been so ungrateful before? “That’s not true! I love, love, love your cooking!”
Xie Yunzhen’s voice brightened. “Alright then. I’ll swap my evening class with Teacher Zhang and head back soon. What would you like to eat?”
Not wanting to trouble her, Jiang Lan picked two simple dishes: spicy and sour shredded potatoes and scrambled eggs with tomatoes. Both paired perfectly with steamed rice.
The fridge had tomatoes but no potatoes, so Xie Yunzhen would stop by the market after work.
A colleague in the office noticed her cheerful mood and teased, “What’s got you so happy? Did your daughter bring her future son-in-law home?”
These teachers had watched Jiang Lan grow up. Beautiful and talented, she was the kind of girl everyone wished they could claim as their own.
Plus, they’d been following the show. It was no surprise Yu Wanqiu adored her—Jiang Lan was effortlessly likable.
Xie Yunzhen forced a laugh. “What future son-in-law? Jiang Lan’s still young. Marriage is the last thing on her mind. She’s just here to pick something up and will leave soon.”
Future son-in-law? She only had one daughter—where would a son-in-law come from?
“She said on the phone she missed my cooking. No matter how nice it is outside, nothing beats home.” Xie Yunzhen began packing up. Her afternoon classes were over, and she’d spent the time grading papers. With the evening class swapped, she could head straight to the market and then home.
At least her daughter wasn’t completely heartless—she still craved her mother’s cooking.
Xie Yunzhen called Jiang Baoguo, telling him to pick up a roast chicken on his way home—the kind Jiang Lan loved.
“Make it two. Yu Wanqiu has been so kind to Lanlan. Let’s give her one as a small token of appreciation.”
Jiang Baoguo, who rarely had a say at home, simply agreed. If his wife said two, then two it was.
Xie Yunzhen hummed happily as she picked out plump potatoes at the market, then added a grass carp to the basket for a steamed fish dish.
Four dishes would make a proper meal for this rare homecoming.
As for Jiang Lan’s visit, Xie Yunzhen decided not to mention it to her grandparents. The elderly couple didn’t use electronics and went to bed early—they still had no idea Jiang Lan was on a show.
Relatives on both sides had asked about it, but Xie Yunzhen had brushed them off each time.
She knew they meant well, but she didn’t know how to explain. It wasn’t like appearing on a show automatically meant marriage.
Sure, the Lu Family was wealthy...
But in her eyes, no one measured up to her own child.
And the Lu Family’s wealth was beyond imagination—more than most could earn in lifetimes. Xie Yunzhen didn’t want her daughter marrying into such an illustrious household.
Lu Yicheng might have been a top student, but who knew about his other qualities?
It was too early to think about these things anyway.
By 6:30 p.m., Xie Yunzhen was home, though Jiang Baoguo hadn’t returned yet.
She called out Jiang Lan’s name, and her daughter darted out of her room. “Mom, you’re back!”
Xie Yunzhen smirked. “Look at you, acting like you’ve been gone for years. It’s just a visit—no need to be so excited.”
“There is every need! Mom, I’ll wash the veggies—you start the rice.” Jiang Lan carried the groceries to the kitchen. “You bought fish too?”
Xie Yunzhen nodded. “They say fish heads make you smarter.”
If only her daughter had been a little sharper, things might’ve been different.
Jiang Lan: “...”
Xie Yunzhen washed her hands, and mother and daughter fell into a rhythm—one prepping ingredients, the other cooking. Jiang Lan talked about her internship; Xie Yunzhen shared stories about her students. Neither brought up the show, and the atmosphere stayed light.
Just as dinner was nearly ready, Jiang Baoguo walked in with the roast chicken.
He was a handsome man, slightly plump, with black-framed glasses. “Yunzhen, Lanlan, I’m home.”
Jiang Lan peeked out. “Dad!”
Jiang Baoguo held up the bag. “Your mom made me get your favorite roast chicken. Took me two extra blocks to find it.”
He beckoned her closer and pulled out an ice cream bar from the bag.
Xie Yunzhen: "No use hiding it, I already saw."
"She's only back for one day and will leave soon. Let her have a little if she wants." Jiang Baoguo changed into slippers and went to wash his hands. "Why didn’t you wait for me to cook?"
"Lanlan said she wanted to eat my cooking," Xie Yunzhen said proudly. She placed the stir-fried potato shreds and scrambled eggs with tomatoes on the table, then turned off the heat under the fish stew. "Old Jiang, bring the fish over."
Jiang Lan volunteered, "I'll do it, I'll do it. Mom, your cooking smells amazing."
Xie Yunzhen smiled. "Alright, hurry up and eat."
Jiang Lan served herself a bowl of rice. Dinner included braised chicken, fish stew, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and spicy and sour potato shreds—quite a feast. She picked up a large piece of egg and took a bite, then paused.
It was a bit too salty.
She tried some potato shreds next, but they were bland. The fish was decent, though an ordinary stewed fish couldn’t compare to dishes like sour fish or boiled fish.
If she had to name one advantage of these dishes, it was that they were all fully cooked—nothing was underdone.
Jiang Baoguo, seemingly used to it, said, "Drink more water after eating."
Jiang Lan: "I think it’s delicious! Dad, you don’t find it salty, do you?"
Jiang Baoguo lowered his head and stayed silent, focusing on his meal. Xie Yunzhen placed a chicken drumstick in Jiang Lan’s bowl. "Eat more meat."
Jiang Lan forced down the egg, suddenly realizing why Xie Yunzhen had mentioned her "mixed diet" when she was hospitalized. Had she been eating like this her whole life?
And when she called Xie Yunzhen earlier, she’d said she disliked her cooking the most...
Well, it wasn’t terrible, but it was far from delicious. Eating something different once in a while was fine.
To cheer Xie Yunzhen on, Jiang Lan still managed to finish two bowls of rice.
After dinner, Xie Yunzhen asked Jiang Baoguo to drive Jiang Lan back, packing some ice cream and braised chicken for her.
Jiang Baoguo wasn’t much of a talker, and the father-daughter pair stayed quiet during the ride. At the villa gate, Jiang Baoguo said, "What matters most is your happiness. Don’t feel inferior just because his family is wealthy. Money can’t buy everything, you know? Look at us—we spend every penny we have."
Jiang Lan burst out laughing. "I know."
Jiang Baoguo patted his daughter’s head. "Your mom and I just don’t want you to marry so young. Take your time to observe him, and we’ll help you evaluate too. Always keep your wits about you, understand?"
"I know. Drive safely, Dad."
Jiang Baoguo drove off in his little red car. Jiang Lan stood outside the villa for a while, feeling uncomfortably full. Maybe she should have some ice cream to help digest.
The car’s air conditioning had kept the ice cream cold, straight from the fridge. Jiang Baoguo had bought creamy ice cream, rich in flavor, and Jiang Lan finished it in a few bites.
Even after eating, she didn’t want to go inside. She felt incredibly lucky to have parents like them. She was glad she was herself—otherwise, Xie Yunzhen and Jiang Baoguo would be heartbroken.
Jiang Lan lingered outside for over an hour, feeding a few mosquitoes before finally entering the villa.
It was past nine, and Yu Wanqiu had just finished her yoga session.
"Teacher Yu, I brought you some braised chicken. I used to eat it all the time—it’s delicious." Jiang Lan took a deep breath. "Do you want some now, or tomorrow?"
Yu Wanqiu opened the bag and sniffed. "I’ll have a drumstick. It smells amazing. Did you bring the household register?"
Jiang Lan nodded. "Yes, I’ll give it to Sister Xia Jing tomorrow."
Yu Wanqiu studied her. "Are you feeling a little down?"
Jiang Lan wasn’t usually like this. Why did she seem so gloomy after visiting home?
Jiang Lan thought of her past parents and family. She must have crossed over a long time ago—so long that she’d nearly forgotten. Now, her memories of her previous life felt more vivid.
Though she knew she should focus on living well in this world, a hint of sadness lingered. "My mom’s cooking isn’t great, but I ate two bowls to cheer her on… Now I’m stuffed."
She was a little upset, especially after leaving home, but she’d feel better by morning.
Jiang Lan smiled at Yu Wanqiu. "I’ll take some digestive pills."
Back in her room, Jiang Lan called Lu Yicheng. He was still at work, though he was alone in the office.
Lu Yicheng said, "Just one more thing to finish. Give me fifteen minutes."
Jiang Lan set the phone aside. Ten minutes later, Lu Yicheng said he was done. It was only nine—earlier than their usual call time. "What’s wrong? Are you upset?"
Jiang Lan asked, "Does it bother you that I don’t remember the past?"
Lu Yicheng turned off the office lights, plunging the room into darkness. He slung his backpack over his shoulder. From Jiang Lan’s perspective, he looked a little lonely.
"It does make me a little sad," he admitted. "I feel like you remember so much, yet forgot me. But then I think—as long as one of us remembers, it’s enough. I can tell you everything you want to know. Even if you never remember, it’s okay."
Thinking that way made it hurt a little less.
Lu Yicheng said, "See, you like me a little now too, which proves that no matter how old you are, you’d always like me." He sounded rather proud.
Talking to Jiang Lan made the journey back anything but boring. "Don’t be upset. Do you want something to eat? I can bring it over for you."
Jiang Lan shook her head decisively. "No, really not at all. I ate at home, and let me tell you, my mom’s cooking is just... not good!"
"Not even remotely close to tasty. I forgot—I called her saying I wanted to eat her cooking, and she was so surprised. She said I never liked her dishes before. Guess I must’ve complained about it in the past and just forgot. She made three dishes, and thank goodness my dad brought back a roast chicken."
Jiang Lan rarely talked about her family before, but Lu Yicheng was eager to listen.
He listened intently before finally saying, "Maybe you’re just picky. Teacher Xie’s cooking must be delicious."
Jiang Lan scoffed. "Would you even say my mom’s boiled water tastes good?"
Lu Yicheng replied, "Haven’t tried it, but I bet it does."
This guy… unbelievable.
Jiang Lan sighed. "My parents are so good to me. And so are you and Teacher Yu."
She wished she could remember more of her past.
The next day, Wednesday, Jiang Lan handed her household register to Yu Wanqiu. Though she knew the location of Yu Wanqiu’s studio, she was too busy with work to deliver it herself and had to ask Teacher Yu for help.
She wasn’t sure if her visa would be processed by Saturday. If not, she’d just skip the trip.
Yu Wanqiu reassured her, "Don’t worry, it’ll definitely be ready."
Even if Xia Jing couldn’t manage it, Yu Wanqiu had other connections to get it done.
"I’ll bring you lunch—how about a drumstick from the roast chicken?" Yu Wanqiu thought the roast chicken tasted great—no wonder Jiang Lan loved it.
After eating Xie Yunzhen’s cooking, Jiang Lan would take anything.
That morning, after dropping Jiang Lan off, Yu Wanqiu spotted an unexpected figure at the villa’s entrance.
It was Xu Chaoyang.
He was carrying a food container, likely breakfast for Zhang Lin, and was about to enter.
Xu Chaoyang had seen Yu Wanqiu twice before—at a banquet where she was Lu Shuangchen’s companion.
Back then, he’d assumed Yu Wanqiu was…
Never would he have guessed they were actually married.
"Teacher Yu, I’m just bringing Zhang Lin some breakfast," Xu Chaoyang said, scratching his head. He still had to go to work, but Zhang Lin was furious, and he didn’t dare face her yet.
Zhang Tian allowed him inside—after all, if the couple could reconcile, that would be best.
Yu Wanqiu glanced at her phone. 8:30 a.m.
Bringing breakfast this late? Trying to starve your wife and child?
Xu Chaoyang followed Yu Wanqiu inside. Zhang Lin and Li Jia lived on the first floor. He set the breakfast on the table and sat on the sofa, waiting.
Li Jia hadn’t come out since their argument on Monday. Apart from grabbing food or necessities, she stayed locked in her room.
Zhang Lin, however, would step out occasionally. Being pregnant, she needed to walk around, and sometimes she’d get hungry and cook something.
The camera in Li Jia’s room was turned off, so the production team had no idea if she’d called Xu Chaoyang again.
Judging by his demeanor, probably not.
After five minutes with no sign of Zhang Lin, Xu Chaoyang knocked on her door.
Thinking it was a staff member, Zhang Lin opened it.
"It’s you?"
Xu Chaoyang looked exhausted. Zhang Lin knew him better than anyone—he used to carry himself with confidence.
"I brought you breakfast. You and the baby need to eat," he said.
"I’ve already eaten. Take it back." Zhang Lin smiled faintly. "Not sure if your mom’s had breakfast yet. You could ask her next door."
Xu Chaoyang felt like she was twisting the knife. "Zhang Lin, I don’t want a divorce. Really, I don’t. I’ll change—just tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it, okay?"
Had he said this years ago—even last year, before the show—Zhang Lin might’ve agreed.
But not now.
Now, she didn’t even think, "If only you’d said this sooner."
She just didn’t want to see him anymore.
"You want to change? Change what? Weren’t you saying everything was fine the other day?" Her tone was icy. Though she had a delicate appearance, her words carried a sharp edge.
"If you really don’t want a divorce, fine. But can you actually change? Move out. Your mom can see Little Yi once a month—otherwise, no contact. If she and I argue, I expect you to take my side unconditionally. If I go back to work, you’ll split chores and childcare." Zhang Lin’s eyes held no hope. "Just hearing this already feels impossible for you, doesn’t it?"
Xu Chaoyang opened his mouth but said nothing.
Zhang Lin said, "I don’t understand why you refuse to divorce, but have you ever truly known my life? Do you know what time a pregnant woman eats? Which department to visit for prenatal checkups? Or what pregnancy symptoms even look like? I used to convince myself you were just busy with work, but the truth is, you never cared, did you?"
When Xu Chaoyang brought her breakfast, Zhang Lin felt no gratitude—only bitter irony.
He didn’t even know what time she ate in the morning, yet here he was, delivering a meal. Who was it really for?