Chapter 70: The Canary's Self-Cultivation (35)
Zhou Jing discovered that over the years, Shen Hanlan had secretly arranged quite a few things. Perhaps she felt her chances were slim. Driven into a corner, she decided to take a risk. For years, she had been covertly transferring assets. Even if Shen Hanlan died, she would still have substantial wealth in hand, connections to rely on, and starting anew wouldn't be so difficult.
Zhou Jing hired a killer, the evidence was irrefutable, and she was detained. Shen Hanlan submitted everything she had uncovered, including the previous kidnapping and the matter of Shen Run'an. The case with Shen Run'an was old; even with Pan Xiuliang as a witness, there was little physical evidence. The kidnapping and the murder-for-hire, however, were both well-documented. Coupled with the other shady things Zhou Jing had done over the years, the list was long—escaping justice was almost impossible.
With Zhou Jing in such trouble, anyone with sense in the company knew exactly how to choose now. The company was facing a major reshuffle, many were uneasy. Especially those who had sided with Zhou Jing before, fearing Shen Hanlan would use them as scapegoats.
…
Later, Shen Hanlan asked Kelly why Ling Qiong had suddenly come to see him that day. Kelly had no idea. It was indeed quite sudden... Strange, but there was no evidence to explain it.
Shen Hanlan checked the surveillance footage; it was exactly as Kelly described. Earlier, Ling Qiong had been relaxing, directing Kelly to fetch this and that, enjoying a refined afternoon tea. Then, in the next moment, she abruptly sat up.
Was this some kind of telepathy?
The thought startled Shen Hanlan, and he reached to switch off the surveillance. Then, something else occurred to him, and he switched the feed to her room.
He skimmed through it—there was none of what Ling Qiong claimed. She always dressed properly; she never came out without clothes as she had suggested. Shen Hanlan snapped the laptop shut.
As expected, she was just spinning tales. Not a word of truth.
…
The morning after the rain carried the scent of fresh earth. Ling Qiong rose and, upon stepping out, bumped into Shen Hanlan standing at her door. She pressed a hand to her forehead, “Young master, what are you doing? Standing guard at my door like a guardian deity?”
Shen Hanlan knocked her head, annoyed, “You’re getting more unruly by the day.”
Ling Qiong dodged, “Well, I am favored, after all.”
Shen Hanlan was speechless.
Have some shame!
He tossed her some clothes, his expression cold. “Put these on.”
Ling Qiong eyed the clothes, “So ugly?”
They were pitch black, poorly designed, with no redeeming features. Perhaps this was how men chose clothes? Ling—the little goddess—Qiong refused to wear such ugly things.
Shen Hanlan repeated, “Put them on.”
Ling Qiong, having learned her lesson, took the clothes to ask Kelly what Shen Hanlan was planning. She couldn’t let him trick her again like last time! Fool me once, but not twice! Daddy learns from experience!
“The young master is going to the cemetery,” Kelly replied.
Ling Qiong was silent.
She obediently returned to her room and changed. However, she tore off a bit of the skirt’s hem herself, tied a butterfly knot at her waist to accentuate her figure.
The cemetery was far; on the way, Shen Hanlan said nothing, staring out the window.
When they arrived, Shen Hanlan opened the door and stepped out. The ground was still wet from the rain, muddy in places, evidence of some previous work.
Shen Hanlan expected Ling Qiong to fuss, but this time she got out without complaint, every inch the picture of obedience.
He watched her for several seconds, then took her hand and led her into the cemetery.
…
Shen Run'an and Shen Hanlan’s mother were buried here. Not together, but side by side.
Ling Qiong looked at the photo on the tombstone—Shen Hanlan’s mother was beautiful, resembling Shen Hanlan.
Shen Hanlan paid respects to both, placing the items Kelly had brought. He still said nothing, and Ling Qiong, unsure of his intentions, did not act on her own.
Not until Shen Hanlan handed her two bouquets.
Ling Qiong dutifully greeted the two elders.
“Go wait over there for a while,” Shen Hanlan told her.
“Alright.”
Ling Qiong walked across the stone slabs to the steps.
Shen Hanlan stood elsewhere; Ling Qiong wasn’t sure if he spoke.
Dark clouds pressed low overhead, giving the day a heavy feeling.
After about fifteen minutes, Shen Hanlan came over, “Let’s go.”
He walked ahead, head down; Chu Zhen followed, slipping her hand into his palm.
Shen Hanlan paused, then gently squeezed her hand, walking down together.
They didn’t head straight home; Shen Hanlan took Ling Qiong out to eat.
Ling Qiong was always picky about food, and Shen Hanlan was used to her tossing things into his bowl.
“If you’re not by my side in the future, whose bowl will you pick from?”
“I’ll eat it myself.”
Shen Hanlan was momentarily speechless, “So you can eat all these things?”
Ling Qiong didn’t deny it, softly said, “But I don’t want to.”
Ling Qiong sensed something off about Shen Hanlan’s words, “What do you mean? Not by my side?”
So now that you’ve got your wings, you want to fly solo?
Is Daddy’s money spent for nothing?!
I’ll clip those wings for you!
Shen Hanlan set down his fork, wiped his mouth with a clean napkin, “Our relationship can end now.”
Ling Qiong’s lashes quivered; she pressed her fork to the plate for a long moment before biting her lip.
“...Young master, are you not renewing the contract?”
Shen Hanlan was speechless.
What contract? He bought out everything in one go, surely. Now he’s saying it’s over—she’s getting off easy. And she still wants a renewal?
“No,” Shen Hanlan leaned back, “From today, our relationship is officially over.”
Ling Qiong tried to persuade him, “Don’t be hasty; I’m quite cost-effective.”
“I’ve already made up my mind.”
“...Alright.”
Ling Qiong continued eating, her mood visibly low.
Shen Hanlan wanted to say something but ultimately remained silent, watching her finish.
When she was done, Shen Hanlan slid a card and a key across the table.
“I’ve prepared a house for you, and this card is yours.”
Ling Qiong accepted them without fuss, softly saying, “Thank you, young master.”
“No need to call me ‘young master’ anymore.”
“Alright, Mr. Shen.” Ling Qiong slipped the key and card into her little bag, stood up gracefully, “Then, Mr. Shen, let’s end things here today.”
She left without a backward glance.
So, money is all that matters?
Shen Hanlan watched her go, downed his glass of red wine in one gulp, and called for the bill.
…
Shen Hanlan returned to the villa; Ling Qiong did not. Everything seemed unchanged, but Shen Hanlan felt something was different.
He loosened his tie, trying to catch his breath.
He only hoped the little girl wouldn’t be too angry.
The next morning, Shen Hanlan hadn’t even gotten up when he heard a commotion downstairs.
He went down in his pajamas, only to see Ling Qiong sitting on the sofa, eating breakfast.
The living room was bustling—with people moving things in.
…