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

【Where have you been these past two months, wifey?!】
【Confirmed—the editor is just a clickbait master, LOL】
【It's supposed to be a movie with four people, yet two don’t even get named】
【I get the logic, but who pixelated Old Lu and Old Six’s faces??】
【Out of 22 characters, LSC gets one, LYC gets none】
【Husband: ?????】
【Don’t even think about riding on my two wives’ hype! Hmph!】
【Wifey cut her hair? So handsome—do we call her hubby now?】
【This might be Yu Wanqiu’s first time with short hair in over 20 years. She’s never had a short-haired role before, and damn, she looks good】
【That slim waist and long legs—I’m sold】
【What’s the new project? If she’s dressed like this, count me in!】
【These two are such a perfect match. Can’t they just debut in the industry and act together?】
【Sis, I’m seriously here for it】
【Need a human accessory? I can eat, drink, and get carried to victory】
【Jiang Lan looks stunning too! Who knew a yellow puffer jacket could be so flattering? Even in this garbage resolution, she’s killing it!】
Two photos: one taken at the VIP exit, the other outside the airport. Yu Wanqiu wore a utility outfit, looking slimmer than before—honestly, she outshone most male celebs with that look. Meanwhile, Jiang Lan was bundled up in a pale yellow puffer jacket and a knit cap, wrapped snugly against the cold.
December was approaching, and B City had already seen two snowfalls. Most people had switched to winter wear, but Jiang Lan’s outfit stood out—bright, fresh, and radiant.
Yu Wanqiu was already tall, and the combat boots added extra height, forcing Jiang Lan to tilt her head up to meet her gaze. The two beauties together completely stole the spotlight from the pixelated figures beside them.
【Jiang Lan rocks bright colors so well—I’m totally buying this jacket】
【Creators, my fanfic stash is empty. The material’s right here—how can you not edit this?】
【I need CP fanvids. Sorry in advance, Old Lu and Old Six】
【So what’s the new project? Winter break is almost here】
With just over a month left before university winter breaks (and high schools following shortly after), the excitement for new dramas, variety shows, and Lunar New Year blockbusters was building. Winter break was prime entertainment season—even a whiff of news sent fans into a frenzy.
So far, only a girl group survival show (premiering New Year’s Day) and a slice-of-life variety had been officially announced. As for Mother-in-Law Is Coming Season 3, gossip accounts had dropped plenty of names, but the official page kept reposting old Season 2 clips—nothing but stale sugar.
After Yu Wanqiu’s two-month disappearance, fans had almost given up hope. But now she was back! Maybe she’d join Season 3—or at least another show. Or a drama? Being her fan was suffering.
Today, the paparazzi were oddly efficient. An hour later, another post dropped:
【Entertainment Buzz: Award-Winning Actress’ New Project Rumored to Be Salute】
Plenty of actresses held the title “award-winning,” but fans couldn’t help speculating. Salute was a prestige project—if Yu Wanqiu landed the lead, her career would reach new heights.
Still, her fandom stayed cautious, refusing to hype unconfirmed news. They kept it to themselves, never spamming public forums.
Then at 10 PM, an official Salute crew account posted:
【In celebration of our nation’s anniversary, we pay tribute... to heroes and martyrs. Filming has wrapped. Thank you to the cast’s dedication and the crew’s tireless efforts. We invite everyone to witness this tribute together. [Image]】
The attached breakdown listed every expense—set construction, props, salaries, catering, hotels—totaling 200 million yuan. Post-production costs weren’t even included yet.
Actor salaries were split into five tiers, with only surnames visible. For The Poplar Forest, the first name was Yu, paid 100,000 yuan. Combined, the entire cast earned just 1.36 million—a drop in the bucket compared to the budget.
There weren’t many A-list actresses surnamed Yu. Narrow it down, and the lead was obvious: Yu Wanqiu as Wu Qing, Chu Lingnan as a border soldier, Zheng Qiu as a firefighter, rising star Chu Yu as a researcher, and retired police dog Beibei as a narcotics K-9. Even big names like Xie Zheng and Ou Mingyang were relegated to supporting roles.
With this many award-winning actors in one film, netizens dubbed it the must-watch movie of next year—no competition.
Five renowned directors, one award-winning actress, two award-winning actors, a budget of two hundred million, yet the actors' combined salaries only amounted to one point three million. The crew's wages were at standard rates, with nearly the entire investment poured into set design and post-production—how could anyone not be excited?
For a tribute film like this, many people approach it with reverence. The comments under the related Weibo post weren’t filled with fans cheering for their favorite stars, but simply the word "anticipating."
Chu Lingnan sent Yu Wanqiu a WeChat message: [So it was you who played Wu Qing! [Mischievous dog stare.jpg]]
The Snowstorm began filming last October and wrapped up long ago. The shooting conditions were far harsher than those of The Poplar Forest—further north, on high-altitude snowy mountains. Over two months were spent capturing real landscapes. Before filming, Chu Lingnan had spent half a year with the military. During production, his health took several hits, and afterward, he went straight into shooting The Deep Sea.
Chu ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍Lingnan was practically bursting with frustration.
[How about we all get together? Hotpot and skewers—let’s go! You can bring your little fan along. [Eager eyes.jpg]]
Yu Wanqiu replied: [What little fan? She’s already become my fan.]
Said little fan was currently peeling shrimp for Yu Wanqiu. They’d had skewers and barbecue for dinner at six, and by ten, they’d ordered takeout—crayfish and fried chicken.
Lu Shuangchen went to the gate of Purple Gold Mansion to pick up the delivery. The delivery guy hadn’t arrived yet, so he waited a couple of minutes.
The rider grinned and said, “Man, this place is hard to find. Took me forever—I’ve never delivered around here before.”
Lu Shuangchen thought to himself—well, he’d never picked up takeout before either.
This was his third trip outside for deliveries today.
Lu Yicheng was cooking, Jiang Lan was a girl, and Yu Wanqiu… who’d dare ask Yu Wanqiu to do chores now?
So it fell to him.
The crayfish smelled amazing—even through the bag, the aroma was irresistible. But as fragrant as it was, the oil used in street food couldn’t compare to the healthier stuff at home. Since when had Yu Wanqiu developed a taste for this?
For once, Yu Wanqiu opened the door for him. “Finally! It smells so good!”
She took the takeout from him, and Lu Shuangchen smiled. “You should eat less of this. Overeating at night will just make you uncomfortable later.”
Lu Yicheng, however, said nothing. He just put on disposable gloves and sat across from them, silently peeling shrimp. Yu Wanqiu ignored Lu Shuangchen, leaving him standing there awkwardly before he eventually sat beside Lu Yicheng and started peeling crayfish too.
...
It was late. Lu Shuangchen, a fitness enthusiast, wouldn’t touch this kind of food. Lu Yicheng had strong self-control—though tempted, he was content just watching Jiang Lan eat.
Jiang Lan asked, “Teacher Yu, what else do you want? Roasted pig’s trotters? Stir-fried dishes?”
Yu Wanqiu felt like the center of attention. The big TV was on, playing an idol drama neither Lu Yicheng nor Lu Shuangchen would ever watch. The table was covered with snacks—cake, milk tea, fried chicken, ice cream, chips, and spicy strips from the supermarket.
Before indulging, Yu Wanqiu drank half a bowl of the porridge Lu Shuangchen had made to avoid upsetting her stomach. The crayfish were so good—delicious enough to make her want to lick her fingers.
Seeing Jiang Lan do just that, Yu Wanqiu discreetly followed suit. “I’m good for tonight. But tomorrow, I’d love some boiled fish with Sichuan pepper. I should put on a face mask right after this. Jiang Lan, let’s book a spa day tomorrow—I really need to fix my hair.”
Yu Wanqiu had cut her hair during filming, even hacking at it herself for certain scenes. Since she had no hairdressing skills, it ended up uneven in places. Now, she felt unbearably frumpy. “I don’t even dare look in the mirror. Over there, I didn’t use face masks—every time I opened my mouth, I’d swallow dust. The air was like sandpaper, roughing up my skin.”
As Wu Qing, she hadn’t cared. But she was Yu Wanqiu—of course she cared now.
Lu Shuangchen said, “You look beautiful as you are. You don’t need all that.”
To him, Yu Wanqiu was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Yu Wanqiu popped another shrimp into her mouth. Lu Yicheng kept peeling in silence. Jiang Lan coughed and said, “Uncle Lu, what we’re after is even more beautiful. Teacher Yu is already stunning, but if she can be even prettier, we’ll be happier.”
So, his compliments were pointless.
“I support it. Mom, you and Jiang Lan should go buy some new clothes, shoes, bags, lipstick—whatever you want. I’ve got money.” Lu Yicheng, having dyed his hair before, added, “How about a new hair color too?”
Lu Shuangchen: “...Hair dye is unhealthy. Your current color is perfect.”
Yu Wanqiu touched her hair. “Maybe I should dye it?”
Jiang Lan said, “Cool tones might suit short hair better. We could try a temporary dye first—if you don’t like it, we can switch. I’ll dye mine too.”
“Let’s go together tomorrow.”
Lu Shuangchen was officially out of the conversation. He felt utterly out of place with these three, unable to grasp their way of thinking. In fact, he was starting to wonder if he was the one with the problem.
Yu Wanqiu picked up another piece of fried chicken, wiped her fingers, and said, “You two should have some too. There’s so much left.”
There was still half a portion of crayfish left, as well as some fried chicken, and a small slice of cake remained. The unopened snacks could be saved for tomorrow. Though the weather was cold now and keeping them in the fridge wouldn’t be a problem, food was always best fresh out of the kitchen. By tomorrow, Yu Wanqiu might not even want to eat them anymore.
Everything had been bought by Jiang Lan, and Yu Wanqiu felt bad about wasting her money. If they didn’t finish it, it’d be such a shame.
Lu Yicheng said, “So neither of you want any more? Then I’ll really eat it all… I was worried there wouldn’t be enough for you two.”
Jiang Lan replied, “Go ahead, eat up. I’ll peel the crayfish for you.”
Lu Yicheng lowered his head and cut himself a small piece of cake. “I’ve been craving this since I saw you two enjoying it earlier.”
Jiang Lan placed the peeled crayfish meat into Lu Yicheng’s bowl. He was supposed to be watching his diet for fitness, but when his mother and girlfriend insisted he eat, how could he refuse?
One indulgent meal wouldn’t hurt. Besides, Jiang Lan was peeling the crayfish for him.
Lu Shuangchen hesitated. He usually avoided eating after eight o’clock. He already had little in common with Yu Wanqiu, and if he didn’t join in now… Quickly, he scooped the remaining cake onto a small plate.
He wasn’t particularly fond of sweets, but this cake wasn’t bad—it had a tangy strawberry jam inside. An occasional treat to unwind wasn’t so bad.
Yu Wanqiu knew Lu Shuangchen well. Apart from regular meals and fruit, he rarely touched anything else.
He smoked a cigarette or two a day, drank very little in recent years, and never touched fried chicken or spicy snacks. Yu Wanqiu used to be the same, but now she loved them.
The father and son finished off the leftovers, then tidied up the coffee table and floor.
After tomorrow, they’d have to start studying for the volunteer exam.
When Yu Wanqiu wasn’t looking, Lu Shuangchen shot Lu Yicheng a look—What’s going on with you?
Can’t you just take your girlfriend and do your own thing? Why are you so useless?
Lu Yicheng smirked. None of your business.
He took the last bite of fried chicken, packed up the trash, and said, “Mom, Jiang Lan, everything’s cleaned up. What do you want for breakfast tomorrow? Should I get some tofu pudding or jianbing?”
Jiang Lan answered, “I want jianbing!”
Yu Wanqiu also chose jianbing. “Alright, let’s go to bed.”
Yu Wanqiu wanted to chat—maybe until one in the morning—and then play games. Tonight, she was determined to stay up late!
She had a lot to say, things she couldn’t share with her husband. The moment they entered the room, Yu Wanqiu started venting. “Is Lu Shuangchen out of his mind? He spent a whole month in N Province, just twenty miles from the set, and stayed there the entire time. If I hadn’t called him, he wouldn’t even have known I’d finished filming!”
Jiang Lan gasped. “Huh??”
Yu Wanqiu grew more agitated as she spoke. “And I can’t even scold him properly—it’d make me seem like I’m being unreasonable.”
Jiang Lan couldn’t help but laugh. “Teacher Yu, isn’t this already progress? Hahaha, Uncle Lu is really something.”
“What was he even thinking? ‘Staying close to me makes me happy’? Does he think that’s some grand romantic gesture?”
Jiang Lan analyzed it. “He was probably just too hesitant. You were busy filming, after all. When I visited the set, I asked the director first—only went after getting permission. Later, when I couldn’t reach you by phone or WeChat, I didn’t dare push it either.”
“Uncle Lu is actually kind of cute in his own way. A bit reserved, sure, but if you ask him to do something, he’ll definitely do it. He just lacks initiative—doesn’t think about what he should do on his own.” Jiang Lan felt the Lu family was all the same. Maybe because they were born with so much, getting anything came too easily, so they never learned to take the first step.
Lu Yicheng was exactly the same.
Yu Wanqiu thought about it and realized it was true. “Let’s hope Mr. Lu shows some improvement next time. How’s Lu Yicheng treating you?”
Jiang Lan fell silent for a moment. When Yu Wanqiu wasn’t around, she mostly spent time with Lu Yicheng. He treated her well, but she always felt like he was hiding something from her.
She could sense it clearly—she wasn’t stupid.
“We… mostly just study together at school, read books. Sometimes he goes to the company. We have meals together almost every day.” Jiang Lan felt their relationship was mostly ordinary. She had come to accept that Lu Yicheng was her boyfriend now. Romance wasn’t about constant excitement—it couldn’t be all fun and games every day.
Life wasn’t a drama. Jiang Lan enjoyed being with Lu Yicheng, but sometimes he could be such an idiot.
Always managing to annoy her.
“Honestly, Lu Yicheng and Uncle Lu are so alike sometimes. I just don’t get how his brain works.”
Yu Wanqiu leaned closer to Jiang Lan. “Men are impossible. After twenty years, I still don’t understand Lu Shuangchen.”
The volunteer exam was on December 10th, leaving them less than two weeks to prepare.
Jiang Lan had already gone through one round of revision, and Lu Shuangchen had reviewed twice. After the exam, there’d be two weeks of practical training before filming began as soon as Jiang Lan’s vacation started.
After a day of letting loose, Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan went for a spa day the next day, changed their hairstyles, and then buckled down for over a week of hard studying. On December 10th, the two of them went to take the volunteer exam.
Although Lu Yicheng helped highlight the key points, Jiang Lan still had to memorize everything herself. If she couldn’t manage even with his help, she might as well bang her head against a block of tofu—she had already memorized everything thoroughly.
The exam covered three textbooks, with each subject lasting two hours. Most questions were multiple-choice or fill-in-the-blank, and it took a day and a half to finish all of them.
The person in charge said the results would be out by evening. Each subject was scored out of 100, but the passing grade wasn’t 60—it was 90.
If they failed, they’d have to retake the exam a week later.
Jiang Lan felt confident she had answered everything correctly, and so did Yu Wanqiu. The two exchanged a glance. "We should pass, right?" Jiang Lan said.
Yu Wanqiu sighed dramatically. "If not, we’ll just retake it. It’s a bit embarrassing, though—I’ve never failed a single exam from elementary to high school."
Jiang Lan grinned. "Let’s hope we both make it!"
She still had two more exams—one on the 12th and another on the 14th. Once those were done, her university coursework would officially be over. The second half of the year would be dedicated to her thesis and job hunting. Jiang Lan gave Yu Wanqiu a quick hug. "I’ll head back now to study."
By 7 p.m., Jiang Lan couldn’t focus anymore. She kept checking her phone. Lu Yicheng nudged her. "Stop looking. They’ll definitely tell you when the results are out. Just focus on your coursework."
Jiang Lan tossed her phone to him. "Fine, I’ll memorize instead."
At 10 p.m., after their study session, the two walked to Qinghua University’s artificial lake. Jiang Lan unlocked her phone and shoved it at him. "You look, you look!"
Lu Yicheng was nervous too. "Me? If you failed, does that mean I’m a bad teacher? Maybe you should check instead…"
Jiang Lan huffed. "Are you serious? Why are you so nervous? Just look already!"
Lu Yicheng pouted. "No need to be so harsh. If you want me to check, at least be nice about it. Let me borrow some luck."
He kissed her quickly, then opened WeChat. At the top of her chats was Yu Wanqiu’s conversation, where she had sent two screenshots—Yu Wanqiu scored 100 in two subjects and 98 in one, while Jiang Lan got 97 in two and 100 in one.
"See? You both passed. Not bad—even got a perfect score in one. Guess I’ve improved," Lu Yicheng said, handing the phone back.
Jiang Lan scrutinized the screenshots several times. "What do you mean you improved? Clearly, I’m the one who improved."
Lu Yicheng chuckled but didn’t argue. Though… now that he thought about it…
"Jiang Lan, why is my mom’s chat pinned at the top? And Xu Xiang’s too? Where’s mine?" He’d only glanced accidentally—he wasn’t snooping.
Jiang Lan immediately stuffed her phone into her bag. "Nope, you saw wrong."
She tried to bolt, but Lu Yicheng yanked her hood. Bundled in winter layers, she was easy to catch. "Explain. Or I’ll get mad. Why am I not pinned?"
Even if he’d lost his memory, he and his mom had known Jiang Lan for the same amount of time. Why wasn’t he prioritized?
Jiang Lan tugged at her hood. "You know why Xiao Ming’s grandma lived to ninety-nine?"
Before he could answer, she said, "Because she never asked unnecessary questions."
Lu Yicheng scowled. "Pin me right now!"
Jiang Lan finally relented. "Fine, fine. There, you’re pinned. Lu Yicheng, you’re so childish. Even jealous of Yu Wanqiu?"
"And Xu Xiang too. You’re such a vinegar pot." She pinned his chat. "Honestly, you don’t care when I call you a pig, but you fuss over something like this?"
His nickname in her contacts was Fairy’s Pet Pig, and he never complained about that.
...
Lu Yicheng had known all along. "Alright, let’s get you back to your dorm. Wake up early tomorrow to keep studying."
He had two more courses than her, so his break would start two weeks later. Adjusting her hood, he took her hand and tucked it into his pocket. "Let’s go."
Patches of unmelted snow dotted the path. The sweltering summer had given way to winter in what felt like a blink. Before heading upstairs, Jiang Lan gave him a quick goodbye kiss. "Professor Lu, you looked extra handsome today."
Lu Yicheng nearly followed her but forced himself to step back.
Jiang Lan waved. "Go on! Bye! I’ll watch you leave."
He waved back. "See you tomorrow."
Lu Yicheng didn’t head straight to his dorm. He still had today’s video to record. Finding a quiet spot, he turned on the camera and aimed it at himself.
"321 days left. She’s so clueless, still oblivious about everything. She finally passed the volunteer exam, but she has two more tests tomorrow and the day after, so no celebrations yet. It’s freezing—she was wrapped up like a dumpling. At least the day I’m waiting for is in autumn, neither too hot nor too cold."
"She didn’t even pin my chat. Unbelievable. I gave her the nickname Little Fairy—matching couple names, matching profile pictures. There’ll be more and more things like that in the future."
"Once her exams are over, she’ll be on break. I still have two weeks left. She’ll probably go home, and I’ll be stuck here alone."
"Ah, if love between both sides can last for years, why need they stay together night and day? I don’t fight for those fleeting moments—that’s what you call perspective. Goodnight, sweetheart. Lu Yicheng, you keep pushing too."
The video was renamed "12.11 Check-in." Lu Yicheng’s hands were slightly red from the cold outside. He rubbed them together before finally heading back to the dorm.
The next day, Jiang Lan had her morning exam. After finishing the first one, she immediately dove into reviewing. By the 14th, she completed her second exam. The day after, Xie Yunzhen and Jiang Baoguo came to pick her up.
Jiang Lan hadn’t spent much time at home during the summer, so before the documentary filming began, she wanted to stay with her family for a few extra days.
Since boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ dorm, Xie Yunzhen carried down Jiang Lan’s thick quilt and winter clothes herself.
Downstairs, Lu Yicheng was chatting with Jiang Baoguo.
"Uncle, I’ll come visit once my break starts," Lu Yicheng said with a constant smile. "It’s cold out—make sure to bundle up. There’s supposed to be heavy snow tomorrow. I’ll come get Jiang Lan again in a little while."
Jiang Baoguo still wasn’t entirely comfortable talking to Lu Yicheng, so he just gave a casual reply. "Yeah, come on over. Don’t bring anything, just come for a meal."
Lu Yicheng: "I’ve learned a couple of new dishes—we can exchange some cooking tips then."
He had a very clear understanding of his own skills.
Jiang Baoguo nodded. "Sure."