Chapter 45: The Canary's Self-Cultivation (10)

“Shen Hanteng is here too?”

“Has he recovered from his illness?”

“Recovered? With his condition, there’s no hope for that mental illness of his…”

“I just hope nothing happens today. Last time, he created a huge scene right on the spot.”

“He used to be such a good child. How did he end up like this? Life really is unpredictable.”

“Sigh…”

Shen Hanteng’s stepmother had crafted a persona for him—a ‘lunatic.’ Everyone outside knew that the Shen family heir was ill and spent his days recuperating. Other illnesses might be easier to accept, but a mental disorder was another matter entirely.

This time, it was a funeral for a highly respected elder of the Shen family, and Shen Hanteng had no choice but to attend. Otherwise, he would not even be here today.

Shen Hanteng followed the group into the mourning hall.

Ling Qiong sighed. In just a short time, she had attended two funerals.

After leaving the hall, Shen Hanteng walked away with his head lowered, Ling Qiong trailing leisurely behind. Almost no one spoke to him; those who did glance his way looked at him with a mixture of sympathy, pity, or complicated curiosity. Shen Hanteng seemed oblivious to these looks and whispers, as if none of it concerned him.

…

Midway through, Ling Qiong went to the restroom. Upon her return, she saw Shen Hanteng and Pei Ziqing standing together. She couldn’t tell what they were saying. Suddenly, Pei Ziqing, with a feigned air of clumsiness, tipped his glass—whether wine or juice—over Shen Hanteng, then strode off without a backward glance.

Ling Qiong: “!!!”

Damn!

Just as Ling Qiong was about to rush over, someone called out to Shen Hanteng.

“Hanteng.”

A woman dressed in lavish attire stood not far away, smiling kindly at Shen Hanteng.

“Come with me for a moment, I have something to tell you,” she beckoned.

Ling Qiong came up beside him, watching the woman.

Shen Hanteng showed little reaction, casually removed his soiled jacket, hung it over his arm, and turned to Ling Qiong. “Wait here.”

“Oh.” Ling Qiong glanced at the woman. “Need any help?”

Shen Hanteng shot her a look and walked off.

Ling Qiong: “???”

What did that mean?

Did he not believe she could help? Back in the day, her father was undefeated!

Shen Hanteng left with the woman, and soon Ling Qiong figured out who she was.

Shen Hanteng’s stepmother—Zhou Jing.

“She looks quite young…” Ling Qiong rubbed her chin, muttering, “Knows how to play the game.”

“Hey, we meet again, little sister.”

Ling Qiong jumped at the sudden voice of Pei Ziqing, clutching her chest as she stepped back. “Who are you calling little sister? I’m an only child, don’t make things up.”

Pei Ziqing’s interest was undiminished. “Then what’s your name?”

Ling Qiong folded her arms. “What does it matter to you?” This little bastard dared to pick on my cub…

Pei Ziqing said, “Don’t be nervous, I mean no harm. I just want to be friends. I quite like you. My name’s Pei Ziqing, I’m Shen Hanteng’s cousin.”

“Oh.” Ling Qiong’s eyes flickered. “You like me?”

“You’re pretty cute.” Pei Ziqing smiled, “I saw you came with my cousin. He’s not easy to get along with, is he? Do you suffer with him?”

Ling Qiong nodded along. “A bit.”

“Right? He’s just…” Pei Ziqing tapped his head. “Not all there. If you stay with him, you might get hurt.”

“Really?” Ling Qiong widened her eyes, as if startled.

Pei Ziqing sighed. “I’ve known him for years, much longer than you.”

“…So, what’s he really like?”

“If you want to know, I’d be happy to tell you. Why don’t we find a quiet place to talk?”

Ling Qiong glanced around, hesitated, then finally nodded as if making up her mind.

“Let’s go over there.”

“Alright.”

…

“Someone fell in the water!!”

“Help!!”

“Somebody, help!!”

The funeral was held at a large estate, with a swimming pool in the back. At that moment, someone was floundering in the water, and people on shore were shouting for help.

Ling Qiong, holding a glass of juice, sat on a high platform some distance from the crowd, calmly chewing on her straw as she watched the commotion by the pool.

Pei Ziqing was dragged out, reeking of alcohol. People speculated he’d gotten drunk and stumbled in by accident.

He was unconscious, but out of danger, and was taken to the hospital.

This little incident hardly made a ripple.

Having enjoyed the spectacle, Ling Qiong wandered back to the front with her juice.

Passing through a corridor, she suddenly spotted the witch.

Ling Qiong: “….”

The witch was dressed as ever, her expression gloomy as she approached. “Miss Ye, Madam Zhou wants to see you.”

Zhou… Zhou Jing?

What does she want with me?

…

Puzzled, Ling Qiong went to meet Zhou Jing.

“Have a seat, young lady.” Zhou Jing was strikingly young, her manner elegant and poised, a faint smile on her lips.

Ling Qiong glanced around but didn’t see Shen Hanteng.

She made herself comfortable, slouching lazily with her chin propped up, showing not a hint of nervousness.

Ling Qiong offered a sweet smile, her words anything but polite, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Zhou Jing was momentarily speechless.

“I’m Hanteng’s stepmother,” Zhou Jing introduced herself.

“Oh.” Ling Qiong tilted her head. “And?”

Zhou Jing said, “I heard your father owes quite a sum of money?”

Ling Qiong had taken the money, and Shen Hanteng had somehow handled the aftermath—she hadn’t seen any debt collectors. As for her father’s current situation, she had no idea.

“Maybe,” Ling Qiong replied carelessly, then asked with interest, “What does that have to do with you wanting to see me?”

“You seem like a filial daughter. Your father is lucky to have you.”

Ling Qiong: “….”

With a father like hers, luck was the last thing that came to mind.

Zhou Jing’s words circled without landing. Ling Qiong, uninterested, stared at her nails, considering what style she’d get next.

Finally, Zhou Jing got to the point. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your father, would you?”

Ling Qiong looked up from her nails in surprise. “Are you… threatening me?”

Zhou Jing replied, “Miss Ye, I have no such intention. I just want to help you.”

Ling Qiong tapped her finger on her chest. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”

Zhou Jing gestured, and the witch produced a check, placing it in Zhou Jing’s hand.

“Miss Ye, I’m sincere.” Zhou Jing slid the check towards her.

Ling Qiong glanced at it.

“One million? That’s your sincerity? Who are you trying to fool?”

“It’s a deposit,” Zhou Jing smiled. “To show my good faith.”

Ling Qiong eyed the check, then Zhou Jing, her expression troubled.

Zhou Jing sipped her tea, not pressing her.

After a moment, Ling Qiong stretched out five fingers and waved them. “The deposit is five million.”

Zhou Jing was silent.

The witch snapped, “Ye Qingtang, don’t be so greedy. Five million? Who do you think you are?”

Ling Qiong rose to her feet, graceful and polite. “If you’re not interested, I’ll show myself out.”

Zhou Jing motioned for the witch to hold her tongue. “Miss Ye, please wait. Let’s discuss this further.”

*

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