I transmigrated as the beautiful ex-wife of an autistic male lead. Even though I talked to him eight hundred times a day, he still refused to spare me a single glance. So, I gave up and decided to just chill. The system told me to curry favor with the male lead. I kicked his shoulder and told him to go make me a three-course meal with soup. While he was sweating over the stove, furiously wielding a spatula, I chewed on my boba pearls and directed him: "Next time you order me boba, make sure it's 30% sugar, no ice, and add a cheese foam on top." Later, when this almighty, powerful billionaire was attending a top-tier executive meeting, a phone alarm suddenly went off. Everyone in the room held their breath. The notoriously unsmiling man faintly curled his lips: "It's time. I have to order her boba first." 1 Transmigrating as the beautiful ex-wife of an autistic male lead. At first, I refused. You have to understand, I've loved talking since I was a kid. When I go back to my hometown for the holidays, my mouth alone can leave a dozen gossiping old ladies speechless. I post on Facebook more than ten times a day. My voice memos are always a full 60 seconds. Staring at the tightly locked bedroom door, I banged on it while wailing: "System, look at this! Is this reasonable?!" I had been married to Arthur Sterling for two years. He spent most of his time locked in his room, not speaking, just tinkering with his woodwork. Every day, I stood outside his door, chanting like a monk about everything that happened over the past few days. For example, today the boba shop skimped on the pearls, 50% sugar was way too sweet, the neighbor Mrs. Smith's son's cat just had three kittens, and so on. But I never heard a single word in response. I was stuck talking to the air and the potted plants every day. If this kept up, I was going to become autistic myself! The system came up with a terrible idea: use my beauty. Wearing something incredibly revealing, I stood outside his door and cooed, "Arthur~" Well, I don't know if the guy inside got hot, but I definitely started burning up. I ran a fever for two whole nights. I almost thought I was going to die. Arthur suddenly noticed the silence. Realizing something was wrong, he came out of his room, found my brain practically frying from the fever, and hurriedly called 911 to get me to the hospital. But even then, he still refused to speak to me. I knew he could speak. I knew he could hear me. In a fit of anger, I gave up. Whoever wants to woo him can do it themselves. 2 2:00 PM the next day. I woke up starving. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw an incredibly handsome face and a pair of deep, dark eyes. It was Arthur. I have to admit, as the male lead, Arthur was objectively gorgeous. His features were sharp and chiseled. He was 6'2", with a broad frame and a narrow waist—an extreme physical contrast to me. No wonder, even though he was autistic and currently just a despised illegitimate son, there were still countless women in our social circle waiting to push me out and become the new Mrs. Sterling. I could appreciate the view, but I couldn't eat it. So frustrating! Annoyed, I rolled over. Only then did it slowly dawn on me that I was sleeping naked! I instantly dove under the covers. I roared, "Arthur Sterling! Why are you in my room?!" Of course, Arthur didn't answer. Blushing furiously, I grabbed my pajamas from under the covers and hastily pulled them on. I peeked out from a tiny crack in the blanket. There was hot water and cold medicine on the nightstand. He was actually pretty nice. Even though our marriage was arranged by his late mother and we had no romantic feelings for each other... Once the female lead appeared, our flimsy, better-than-nothing three-year marriage would come to an end. No fighting, no drama, just an amicable divorce. But for these three years, Arthur and I had treated each other with polite respect. Arthur's ears were bright red. He coughed lightly, looked away, and with a slightly inexperienced touch, felt my forehead. Then he let out a low sigh of relief. The fever had broken. I clutched my stomach, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. "Arthur, I'm hungry." Hearing this, he froze, looking at me in disbelief. I held out both my hands, looking incredibly innocent: "Look at what the grease and smoke in the kitchen have done to my hands! A few more trips to the kitchen and I'll turn into a haggard old woman! I'm not going, I'm not going." His frown deepened, his eyes filled with even more confusion. I felt a little guilty. "Fine, I admit I usually just order takeout, I don't cook." Arthur opened a food delivery app on his phone and handed it to me. I pushed it away: "Takeout is bad for you! Especially for someone recovering from an illness! It's all processed meat. It's better not to eat at all!" Finally, he opened an electronic recipe book. It featured basic dishes like tomato and egg stir-fry, pepper steak, steamed pork ribs, etc. My eyes lit up, and I quickly pointed to a few: "This one, this one, and this one. I want them all." The system sighed helplessly: [You are the weakest host I've ever had. How did you catch a cold from that?!] [Also, you're really just letting him in the kitchen? Aren't you afraid he'll poison you or blow the place up? The male lead has autism right now, can you show a little more patience?!] "I'm a patient too! Besides, what does autism have to do with cooking?!" [You're just making excuses!] "I'm speaking the truth!" "System, didn't you say the male lead is a genius and can learn anything? Is a little bit of cooking really going to stump him?" The system grew frantic: [Is the male lead's high IQ supposed to be used for THIS?!] Why not? Life is just three meals a day. Who says dealing with groceries and cooking doesn't require intelligence? 3 Not long after, Arthur knocked on my door. As soon as I opened it, the smell of home-cooked food wafted in. I hadn't smelled something so comforting in a long time. When I was little, my parents were always busy. No one ever cooked for me; all three meals were just takeout, takeout, takeout. On my eighteenth birthday, we finally sat down together. They asked me what I wanted for a present. I said I wanted to eat a home-cooked meal one day. They looked at each other and awkwardly agreed. But the day after I turned eighteen, they got divorced. They had their own futures and careers to run to, and I was just proof of a past they were ashamed of. Neither of them wanted to take me. I never got to eat that meal. Arthur really was gifted. The food was incredible. I angrily devoured three huge bowls of rice. Crying while I ate. Arthur just stared at me, completely dumbfounded. He reached out and wiped a grain of rice from the corner of my mouth. "Arthur, you're amazing." Hearing this, Arthur looked up at me, thinking he had misheard. Seeing me staring at him unblinking, he abruptly lowered his head, pretending to be very busy with his bowl and chopsticks, but his ears were burning red. Of course, I, focused entirely on eating, didn't notice any of these details. I reached out and grabbed the last piece of braised pork belly from the plate. Just as I was about to put it in my bowl and eat it with my rice, I suddenly realized something... Arthur hadn't eaten a single piece. There weren't many pieces to begin with—only six in total. I had just eaten five, and this was the last one. After thinking for a second, I gently pulled his chopsticks from his hand and placed the last piece of meat into his bowl. "You eat it. I've had enough." Arthur didn't touch the meat for a long time. I frowned. "Are you not eating it because you think it's gross that it was almost in my bowl?" Arthur lowered his eyes and took a bite of the pork belly. The system's roar echoed in my head: [Host! What are you doing?! Didn't I tell you the male lead NEVER eats braised pork belly?!] [When he was a kid, a puppy he raised was slaughtered by the Sterling family and made into braised pork belly! He hasn't eaten it since!] [Host, I'm seriously done with you! How can a person mess up this badly?!] I grabbed my hair in frustration. The system had told me Arthur didn't eat braised pork belly, but I just thought he was a picky eater! Who knew it was because of something like that?! No wonder he looked a bit strange when I told him to make it earlier. "Stop eating it." I took the piece of pork belly out of his bowl. "Arthur, I forgot. We'll never eat braised pork belly again." Arthur might look cold on the outside, but underneath, he was just a normal guy who grew up sensitive and insecure. He didn't say a word. The atmosphere grew tense again. I grabbed a piece of steamed rib. "Arthur, from now on, you're in charge of all three meals a day, okay?" I had never been married before transmigrating, so I didn't know how a married couple was supposed to act. Even though our three-year marriage only had one year left, we saw each other every single day; we should at least try to live comfortably. "No matter what, we're married right now, so we need to divide the household chores. You'll be in charge of washing vegetables, cooking, doing the dishes, doing laundry, mopping the floors... I'll let you know the rest when I think of it." He put down his chopsticks and looked at me, bewildered. His expression clearly said, "Are you serious?" I have very thick skin. "Why are you looking at me like that? I have my own chores too! I'm responsible for making this house lively! Do you know how exhausting it is for me to say eight hundred sentences a day by myself?! You don't even appreciate my hard work!" Arthur suddenly reached out his hand. I instinctively shielded my bowl: "What are you doing? Trying to steal my food?!" He slowly spat out two words: "Doing dishes." I froze. This was the first time I had ever heard him speak. His voice was so nice. I instantly got excited. "Did you just speak?! Can you say a little more? Your voice is so nice! This is great! If you talk more, I won't have to put on a one-woman show anymore! It's so boring being the only one talking in this house. Just say a few more words! Do you want me to go find you a microphone?!" I babbled on and on. And was rewarded with exactly one word. "No." Okay, fine. At least he's willing to open his mouth. Even if it's just one or two words at a time. But no matter what, saying two words is better than saying nothing. Otherwise, this house would be way too quiet. "I'm done eating. Thanks for doing the dishes, Hubby~" This was the first time Arthur had heard that title. As he took my bowl, his movements were a bit stiff. He pressed his lips together, clearly not understanding, but he still did as I asked. I nodded in deep satisfaction. Arthur definitely had the potential to be the perfect, dutiful husband. I crossed my legs and casually gave his waist a light kick: "If you don't respond, it makes me look really awkward." His whole body stiffened, and he forced out a single word as if it pained him: "Mhm." I smiled brightly: "Hubby is the best!" Arthur's face flushed red, and he practically sprinted to the kitchen with the bowls. 4 While Arthur was in the kitchen doing dishes. I lay on the sofa trying to pick a boba tea, torn between two different shops, when the doorbell suddenly rang. I got up, walked to the door, and asked, "Who is it?" I leaned against the door to listen, but the keypad lock was suddenly thrown open. Before me stood an older man's face and the manicured face of a middle-aged woman. "Young Master Sterling, Mrs. Sterling is here to see you." The so-called "Mrs. Sterling" was Eleanor. She didn't have a son; she only gave birth to a daughter for Mr. Sterling, named Mia. After having Mia, her health was poor. Despite years of treatments, she couldn't conceive a son. So, she shifted her attention to Arthur. After Arthur's biological mother left, Eleanor constantly tried to insert herself into Arthur's life. Arthur's birth mother loved Mr. Sterling until the day she died, but Arthur always hated his father. He refused to return to the Sterling family or accept a single cent of his father's money. Mr. Sterling felt guilty toward Arthur's mother. And Arthur was his only son. Therefore, everyone knew that if Arthur returned home, he would undoubtedly inherit the Sterling empire. Publicly, Eleanor and Mia showered the so-called "illegitimate son" with care and concern. But in reality, if it weren't for the endless humiliation and abuse they inflicted on him in the past, Arthur would never have developed autism. Just then, a loud crash came from the kitchen. I hurried over and saw a bowl shattered on the floor by Arthur's feet. He was trembling all over, his voice sharp: "Get out!" 5 Of course, Eleanor wouldn't give up that easily. She stepped forward, trying to placate him: "Arthur, it's okay if you don't want to call me Mom. I'm here to invite you to your sister's eighteenth birthday party next week. Your father misses you very much and hopes you can come." Arthur pressed his lips together, his entire body shaking as he fought to control himself. It took so much effort to get him to talk to me these past few days. If Eleanor triggered him now, would I have to go back to my one-woman show?! I whooshed right in front of Arthur, using my small frame to form a human shield. "Get out." I repeated Arthur's words. Eleanor finally looked at me slowly. She looked me up and down, her expression filled with disdain: "You're Arthur's wife? I heard you're an orphan with no parents. Aren't you just with him for the Sterling blood in his veins? If that's the case, you should be persuading him, not adding fuel to the fire." I was furious. Having held it in for so long, I finally exploded: "If you don't know how to speak properly, you can keep your mouth shut. There's no need to spew garbage! Who do you think you're morally kidnapping here? He shouldn't be calling you Mom in the first place—what kind of mom are you anyway? And what sister? Just because you share the same blood makes you family?! Well, we're all descendants of the first humans, why don't you call me Grandpa then?! But even if you acknowledged me, I wouldn't accept a grandchild like you! Why didn't you say all this when Mr. Sterling was here? Why only say it in front of Arthur? What, trying to act like a manipulative little 'green tea bitch' like the kids do? Take a look at your age first!" I took a deep breath, grabbed Arthur's hand, and continued glaring at Eleanor: "Also, I don't know where you got the key to our house, but right now, I need you to get out. "Otherwise, don't blame me if I spray spit all over your face! Though honestly, you should thank me for washing your face so you can take a good look at yourself." Eleanor's face cycled through shades of green and purple. She choked for a long time but couldn't squeeze out a single word. "Fine! You certainly found a wife with a sharp tongue!" I waved my hand to shoo Eleanor and her driver away. But Arthur stood frozen in the entryway, not moving for a long time. I confidently flipped my hair: "That was the most satisfying rant I've ever had! By the way, are the dishes done? Also, which boba place do you think is better?" Arthur looked up at me, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. A moment later, he returned to normal: "Not yet. The second one." "Oh, then I'll get the first one." I went back to curl up on the sofa. [Host, what are you taking matters into your own hands for?! That banquet is the first time the male and female leads meet! It's the first crucial plot point that establishes their emotional foundation! How can you just say you're not going?!] I thought it was very simple. "But Arthur doesn't want to go! Besides, shouldn't I be asking you guys? To create a 'tragic but beautiful' male lead for a female-oriented romance novel, you're making him live this miserably before his character growth?!" The system went silent again. I couldn't be bothered with it. It's just a plot point, right? I refuse to believe he won't meet the female lead just because he skips one banquet. Not long after, Arthur finished washing the dishes. Not only did he clean up the shattered ceramic on the floor, but he also wiped down the stove, the kitchen tiles, and the counters. He even tied up the kitchen trash bag and set it by the door. I finally finished ordering my boba and was scrolling on my phone on the sofa. It wasn't until a tall silhouette blocked my light that I slowly looked up. Arthur's eyes were red. Even his lips were trembling. He looked very kissable. Wait, what am I thinking?! Arthur took a few steps forward, exuding an indescribable stubbornness and defiance: "Why... speak up... for me?" "Because you don't like her, so I don't like her either." Arthur frowned. In his understanding of the world, the simplest reasons were often the most impossible ones. "We're married! Isn't this how a married couple is supposed to be? Sharing joy and anger, sharing the consequences." Hearing the word "married," Arthur froze. Over the past few days, he had heard this word from my mouth more than once. The concept was slowly starting to take shape in his mind. He pressed his lips together. He seemed very anxious, yet struggled to form a complete sentence: "Then why... agree... to be... married to me?" I stared at his face. Arthur's looks leaned toward the cold and aloof side. When he wasn't speaking, he looked exactly like an untouchable "flower on a high peak," giving people the urge and desire to pull him down from his pedestal. But when he was anxious to speak, his usually expressionless face gained a hint of color, the corners of his eyes drooping slightly, evoking a protective instinct. In short, no matter the situation, he was so good-looking you couldn't tear your eyes away. "It's simple. Because you're good-looking." As soon as the words fell, the tips of Arthur's ears burned red. It took him forever to squeeze out one word: "Oh." I laughed out loud. "What does 'oh' mean?" He replied with utmost seriousness, word by word: "I... don't know how to respond. But... you said... I have to respond." I nodded and smiled at him: "You learn fast!" He clearly hadn't gotten used to my compliments yet. Hearing this, he turned around incredibly fast. And after dropping a quick, "You... look good too," he bolted. 6 These past few days, Arthur had been talking more and more. This made me very happy. At least I wasn't talking to the air anymore. However. Lately, he was always on the phone with strangers. I was a bit scared, worried he was getting scammed. Even though he and I only had enough savings to barely fill the gap in a rich person's teeth, that didn't mean someone wasn't coveting our good credit scores. After thinking about it for a long time, I finally brought up this serious issue: "Could you give me your phone for a second? I want to download an—" Before I could finish, the phone was already in my palm. "—Anti-fraud app." After handing me the phone, Arthur went into the kitchen to cook. When I used to order takeout, I never realized how much time making three meals a day actually took. Arthur spent most of his time in the kitchen, and the rest of the time in his study on the phone. Even though Arthur was the male lead, the possibility of him getting scammed couldn't be ruled out! After downloading the anti-fraud app, I still felt a bit uneasy and asked delicately: "Can I use your browser and look at your contacts?" Arthur appeared in front of me instantly. "Contacts, yes. Browser... can you not look at that for now?" I realized what he meant a second later. Blushing, I whispered, "Sorry." A faint smell of burning drifted from the kitchen. Arthur sprinted back immediately. Right then, the doorbell rang. A voice called out from outside: "Delivery!" I was confused. I didn't think I ordered takeout today. I opened the door to find a cup from my favorite boba shop. Ordered by Arthur. Crème brûlée milk tea, 30% sugar, no ice—my exact order. The sound of the range hood in the kitchen stopped. Arthur took off his apron and walked out holding a plate of pepper steak. I shook the boba I had already opened: "You ordered this?" Arthur set the food on the table and glanced at me: "Mhm." His tone was completely natural: "You always order a cup to drink in the afternoon after lunch, so I bought it early. Drink it early, otherwise you won't be able to sleep tonight." I was a bit confused: "Can't sleep? How did you know I couldn't sle—" "You didn't sleep either?" "Mhm." "You weren't intentionally listening at my door, were you?!" "This room... doesn't have good soundproofing." My defenses crumbled. Totally shattered! So not only could Arthur hear my silvery laughter every night, but he also knew exactly what kind of "Not Safe For Work" videos I was watching to help me fall asleep! No. Fine, he knew. But why did he have to SAY it?! Ahhhhhhh! 7 A few mornings later, while Arthur was preparing breakfast for me, the Sterling family had a set of men's formal wear and a women's evening gown delivered. It was for Mia's eighteenth birthday party tonight. A few nights ago, I heard Mr. Sterling call Arthur, using his late mother's belongings to threaten him into attending this banquet. Whenever Arthur faced me these past few days, he always looked a bit unnatural, probably trying to figure out how to tell me. I said softly: "This gown is actually really pretty. I've never worn such an expensive dress." A flash of light crossed Arthur's eyes: "You're willing to go?" "Yeah, I'll go with you." It seems the plot is still correcting itself. Arthur would meet the female lead, Serena, who would stand up for him here. They would fall in love, understand each other, and overcome all obstacles together. I should be happy that my mission was nearing its end. But my heart actually felt a little uncomfortable.
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