Chapter Seventy-Six: She Must Be Taught a Lesson

"What am I laughing at? Don’t you understand?" Song Ci was still cheerful as ever. This little brother-in-law, Nian Yuchen, truly lived up to his reputation. After so many years, who didn’t know his temper? And yet, he was here begging Song Ci for help on behalf of a woman… using all manners of persuasion. He’d said plenty of good things. If you claimed there was nothing between him and the woman he was pleading for, who would believe it?

Song Ci certainly didn’t.

But he wasn’t worried about that. What truly troubled him was Nian Yuchen’s future. If Nian Yuchen didn’t genuinely care for Cheng Manli, entering a marriage where the two merely respected each other might not be a disaster, but it was hardly an ideal outcome.

In truth, Song Ci’s views were much the same as those of Nian Yuchen’s sister, Nian Yulan. After all, Nian Yulan had been raised with Western education, and she and Song Ci had married for love. They cherished freedom in marriage and romance. Arranged marriages for family’s sake were despised in their world.

Both he and Nian Yulan hoped Nian Yuchen wouldn’t end up like that—if he truly didn’t love Cheng Manli.

Yet, if he felt it was acceptable, that was another matter.

Song Ci understood this well. That was why he wouldn’t directly prod at Nian Yuchen’s private worries. He wasn’t concerned; Nian Yuchen always knew his own boundaries. Song Ci didn’t want to hear words like “confess and you’ll be treated kindly; resist and you’ll be punished.” He didn’t want to see it happen, either…

Nian Yuchen seemed helpless. He shook his head and said no more. Besides, his engagement to Cheng Manli was imminent. Once engaged, the wedding wouldn’t be far off. There were things he shouldn’t think about anymore, nor should he dwell on. And he no longer had the time.

Song Ci glanced at Nian Yuchen and sighed quietly in his heart. He had no intention of exposing what he had seen. If Nian Yuchen had already made up his mind, no one should disturb his life or his heart.

He believed some people and some matters could be buried deep within. Perhaps that woman meant something different to Nian Yuchen—but not enough for him to defy his parents or change all the plans he’d made for her…

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Because she’d missed the chance to study abroad, Mai Xijun had to continue going to the company as usual, working every day.

But these past few days, Shen Yanlie hadn’t come to the office. It was only that he hadn’t shown up at Lov; he still had Oya, his true domain. Lov was merely something he’d acquired through manipulation. It was his fierce and domineering possessiveness that had propelled him to take Lov by storm. In a certain sense, it didn’t mean he truly wanted it…

The designers who went to Paris for further study sent back photos. Seeing her favorite designer posing with other colleagues, but not herself among them, Mai Xijun couldn’t help but feel dejected and lost.

Still, at least she had seen her mother once. Though her mother didn’t acknowledge her, at least she knew she was alive. That was enough.

Beep beep.

"Report to Oya this afternoon."

Signed: The Low-Quality Man.

Mai Xijun stared at the message on her phone, utterly baffled. Did he send it by mistake? But he couldn’t possibly be that clueless. If not… how odd. There had been no warning at all.

She resolutely didn’t reply, tossed her phone into her bag, and prepared to leave work.

But before she’d even exited the office, her phone chimed with another text. Mai Xijun hesitated. Forget it, she wouldn’t look. No need for him to stir up her mood, which she’d finally managed to piece together. He was always so low-quality—appearing whenever he pleased, vanishing whenever he wished.

Her decision not to go to Paris was something of an unspoken confession. Was he oblivious, or what? Days passed without seeing him—never showing up. Fine, let him go wherever he liked. She didn’t want to care whether he’d rekindled things with his old flame.

After all, if he truly wanted to return to Xie Yunting, she had no confidence she could pull him back to her side. She’d appeared before him and Xie Yunting at the right time, remembering how he’d once played at ambiguity with her in front of Xue Lizan and He Jingjing—acting out a scene where even if she lost him, she’d live well. So she’d reciprocated, ‘an eye for an eye.’

After eating outside and dragging herself back to the office, Mai Xijun felt bored and aimless. She picked up her phone, intending to play some silly game, but found the unread message. Oh well, whatever. Who cared who sent it?

"One hundred yuan for every minute late. Report at two o’clock sharp this afternoon." …The Low-Quality Man.

Damn.

What time was it now?

Damn it, it was 1:45 and 43 seconds.

Was she out of her mind? She knew he never played by the rules, and yet she ignored the unread message on her phone. Clearly, she wasn’t just out of her mind; and Shen Yanlie’s inhuman nastiness wasn’t merely low-quality.

Hell. Mai Xijun grabbed her bag and dashed downstairs, flagging a taxi.

Lov and Oya weren’t terribly far apart, but if you hit rush hour, it was more suffocating than enduring forty-three degrees of heat.

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In Oya’s chief executive office.

Shen Yanlie sat facing the door, his elbow propped on the desk, fingers idly tracing his thin, indifferent lips—a gesture both sensual and alluring.

He’d sent two messages to this woman; neither had received a reply. He’d waited for her so long, and yet still hadn’t seen a trace of her. Was she defying heaven itself?

Shen Yanlie glanced at his wristwatch, but reception still hadn’t informed him she’d arrived. That woman needed to be dealt with.

Headache…

He had to teach her a lesson.

Shen Yanlie slowly spun his high-backed chair, turning his back to the door, sinking his tall frame into its depths. He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. That damned woman—she’d gone behind his back, tangled with Mo Shaoxing. That was nothing; they’d known each other since childhood, long before he met her.

But then she’d met with Luo Youcong. Was she courting death? And now, what—she was out with the man who bid a million for her at the exhibition? Was she tired of living? Did she want to test his patience?

Mai Xijun, just you wait. When you truly infuriate me, you won’t know what hit you.