Investing in My Crippled Wife: Every Return Makes Me Stronger

”Father, Mother.” Ryan turned around with a bright smile. ”Brother Soren just messaged me. He’s coming to pick us up.”

His parents exchanged a glance and nodded.

”There’s a cafe right over there,” Ryan then suggested, pointing toward a small storefront down the street. ”We can sit inside and grab a drink while we wait.”

”Mommy!” His little sister exclaimed. ”I want an ice cream!”

”You heard her.”

Left with no choice, they walked over to the cafe and found a table near the front. Twenty minutes later, Ryan’s phone buzzed with a new notification. He checked the screen, then looked toward his parents. ”He’s here.”

They paid for their orders and stepped outside onto the sidewalk. Just down the curb, Soren was leaning against his car, waving toward them with a friendly smile.

”Let’s go!”

Ryan’s family walked over, and they exchanged warm greetings. Soren shook hands with Ryan’s father, gave a polite nod to his mother, and ruffled Ryan and his little sister’s hair like an older brother would.

”I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

”No, not at all,” Ryan’s father said, shaking his head. ”Thank you for coming to get us.”

”Of course. Let’s get in.” Soren opened the rear door and gestured for Ryan and his little sister to climb in first.

The little girl spotted Ethea in the front as soon as she sat down.

”Pretty sister!” she chirped, waving enthusiastically.

Ethea waved at her through the mirror. ”How have you been, little one?”

”Good! I missed you!”

”I missed you too.”

Ryan slid in beside his sister and gave Ethea a respectful nod. ”Sister-in-law. It’s good to see you again.”

Ethea returned the nod, then turned to greet Ryan’s parents as they settled into the middle row. Once everyone was seated, Soren pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic.

”By the way, how was the journey?” Soren initiated a conversation, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.

”It was long,” Ryan’s father admitted. ”But we took our time and made plenty of stops. The children enjoyed seeing new places.”

”That’s good to hear.”

”Speaking of the journey,” Ryan’s mother spoke up, ”we actually came across some interesting news a few days ago. It was about a cooking competition called the Golden Ladle Championship and an attack that happened during it.”

Soren blinked, feigning surprise. ”You saw that?”

”Of course we did. It was all over the news.” She smiled warmly. ”And congratulations, Mr. Soren. We were so happy when we saw it, and Ryan wouldn’t stop talking about it either.”

”Thank you, Auntie,” Soren replied modestly, watching them in the mirror. ”I was just lucky to have everything come together at the right moment.”

”Nonsense, talent isn’t luck,” she said, though her tone softened as worry crept into her voice. ”Though... the reports afterward had us sick with worry. They mentioned you were severely injured during that attack. Ryan told us not to worry, but we couldn’t help it. Are you really fine? We aren’t troubling you by visiting while you need rest, are we?”

”Not at all,” Soren assured her. ”I’ve been recovering well, and honestly, having you here is a nice change of pace. It gets boring staying cooped up all day.”

Ryan’s mother let out a small laugh. ”Then we’ll try not to be too much of a handful.”

”You could never be.” Soren smiled warmly.

They continued chatting as he drove through the city. He told them about Ryan’s transfer process and mentioned that he had also found a place for them to stay during their visit. Ryan’s parents thanked him repeatedly, and Ryan himself kept asking questions about the academy, eager to know what awaited him.

Soon, they arrived in a modern residential complex. Soren parked the car and led them up to a spacious apartment he had arranged for their stay. While Ethea played with Ryan’s little sister in the living room, he helped Ryan and his parents settle in. Then, they shared lunch together before Soren and Ethea took their leave.

They spent the rest of the afternoon cultivating and training together in their new mental realm. However, Soren had to leave early as he had promised to cook for Zura. Fortunately, he had bought many good things during their shopping spree at the harvest festival, so he had everything he needed for a proper meal.

He got to work in the kitchen, preparing a spread that would impress even a fellow senior magic chef.

”Let’s put my improved skills to the test, shall we?”

He mumbled to himself and began cooking. Two hours passed in a flash. By the time he finished, the table was set with a full-course meal, and Ethea had already woken from her cultivation and joined him. Just as Soren placed the last platter on the table, a knock came at the door.

”She’s here.”

Soren wiped his hands on a towel and walked to the door. He opened it to find Zura standing there with a small box in her hand.

”You didn’t have to have to bring anything,” Soren said.

”It’s just a cake. Ethea’s favorite, in fact.” She held it out to him. ”Now are you going to let me in, or do I have to stand out here all evening?”

Soren stepped aside with a small laugh. ”Come in.”

Zura grinned and strode in, pausing as her nose twitched. ”I smell something delicious.”

​She glanced around, spotted Ethea, and her face lit up. Without another word, she crossed the room and pulled her into a tight hug. When she pulled back, her gaze drifted past Ethea to the dining area. A low ”Whoa...” escaped her lips as her eyes widened at the table, overflowing with a colorful array of freshly made dishes and sweets.

”...” She stared at it for a long moment, her eyes moving from dish to dish. Then she turned to Soren. ”You prepared all of this?”

Soren nodded and pulled out a chair for her. ”Please, sit.”

Zura didn’t move right away, her mind still catching up with what her eyes were seeing.

She had heard the stories, of course. Ethea had told her plenty, and the rumors from the championship had spread far and wide. She knew he was good. But knowing and seeing were two very different things. The presentation, the aroma, the careful arrangement of every plate. This wasn’t just skill, this was artistry.

”...This is going to ruin me for every other meal, isn’t it?”