Chapter Forty-Three: The First Visit

Of course, this timidity only appeared at certain moments.

Yuan Xiangdie remained silent as the car reversed closer to the old house, causing Jin Yuan to worry that he had frightened her somehow.

Qi Mei’s ears pricked up at the sound of the car. Housekeeper Hu, who had noticed the distant doors of the old residence slowly opening, immediately hurried to the entrance, ready to open the door at the first ring of the bell and let the newcomers inside.

Tension reigned on this side, and on the other, it was just as fraught. Yuan Yao’er was not so lucky; she found herself surrounded by wealthy young men who had once only observed her from afar. Even those she once considered beneath her, whom she would not deign to meet, now looked at her with a gaze she dared not meet, and she was forced to respond with a polite smile. Her mother truly must be mad. One gentleman had already made it clear that if she agreed to be his girlfriend, he would be willing to finance the rescue of Xunfang and even bring in a new designer to help with its transformation.

“Miss Yao’er, I wonder if I might have the honor of inviting you to a dance?”

This man had been pestering her for a long time, previously kept at a distance with no opportunity to approach. Now, he appeared before her, his so-called gentlemanly demeanor not worth mentioning. Yet Yuan Yao’er could not refuse, as her family was hosting this ball. They were in the clothing business, catering to the general public with sales that were unremarkable and garments devoid of beauty. Yet it seemed Xunfang intended to court his cooperation, since their previous manufacturer had broken their contract—even paying a hefty penalty to do so—which had nearly caused Yao’er to faint with rage.

“Of course, it would be my honor, Mr. Wang.”

Wang Rong was overjoyed. “I can’t believe Miss Yao’er even remembers my name.”

He reached out and pulled Yuan Yao’er, causing her to stumble in her ten-centimeter heels as they moved to the center of the dance floor. She maintained a graceful smile, though she felt as though she were suffering a fate worse than death.

“Mr. Wang, you’re out of step with the music’s original rhythm. Please slow down a bit—there’s no need to rush.”

Her flawless smile was close to cracking. She felt her whole body radiate rejection; if this continued, not even ten pairs of ankles would suffice for the spins this man demanded.

“Miss Yao’er, I’m just so excited. Usually, I can only watch you from afar, and now here you are, dancing in my arms.”

His expression was nauseating, but she had no choice but to endure. To supervise her dealings with the young gentlemen her mother had selected, Zhang Xi made a rare appearance at the ball, reassuring outsiders that all was well at home and there was no cause for concern.

Several society ladies, always resentful of mistresses rising in status, took the chance to seek trouble with Zhang Xi.

“Madam Zhang, it’s been ages since you attended a ball. If not for Mr. Ning’s recent affairs, we’d have thought you’d never come out again.”

The barb was sharp. Zhang Xi wore a polite smile—a skill she’d practiced since she began mingling with the wealthy, never allowing herself to slip. Their taunts did not faze her. Lifting her skirt and a glass of wine, she glided over, pausing to thank the server who poured her drink.

The society ladies were full of sarcasm, wondering how she could still keep up appearances after such a fall—after mistreating her husband’s eldest daughter and being suspected of falsely accusing her. Was she seeking a second chance at love?

“I really do appreciate your concern, ladies. My husband’s situation is truly regrettable, but it’s normal for children to make mistakes. Now that she’s returned, I will certainly accept her and comfort her wounded heart, hoping she won’t repeat the same errors.”

Her reply was impeccable. One of the ladies wished to speak, but was held back by another in the front.

“That’s well said, Madam Zhang. You’re a fine stepmother. If it were my family, I couldn’t have done better. However, your daughter seems to be struggling in the center of the dance floor. The Wang boy’s been practicing Shaolin kung fu since childhood—he’s still a virgin, I hear. Wants to save himself for your daughter…”

The ladies covered their mouths, laughing—they were not here for pleasantries but to make her uncomfortable.

Zhang Xi didn’t contemplate revenge; she had no leverage for it. If not for the accusations of plagiarism or the evidence presented, these women would never have had the chance to torment her. It was all that wretched girl’s fault. If she’d just been obedient, a puppet, Zhang Xi wouldn’t have had to resort to such measures. No matter what, she wouldn’t let anyone destroy the hard-won peace she’d finally achieved.

Zhang Xi’s resolve hardened. She nodded meekly to the ladies, offering no further defense.

“I hope you all enjoy yourselves. My Yao’er has been in low spirits lately—she’s not eating or drinking and can’t endure much. I’ll go remind her now. She may be considerate, but she shouldn’t risk her health for others.”

Her smile was all surface, and the coldness and resentment in her eyes were real, but she could only suppress them.

“We won’t keep you, then. I wonder if Mrs. Qi is here. Just the other day, I was telling her about my family’s new boutique—all the designs are bespoke and never repeated.”

“I’m not sure. Mrs. Qi said her son was bringing his fiancée home today, so she canceled all her engagements and games of mahjong, wanting to make a good impression on her daughter-in-law.”

“How peculiar! That family is full of oddities. The lady, raised in a scholarly home, yet so fond of mahjong…”

Someone nudged another to stop. “Enough—you call it a scholarly family, but I think they’re more like bandits—like Qi Mei’s mother. Their son may be young and accomplished, but he never has women around him, always insisting on high standards, and only a male assistant besides.”

Gossip is a woman’s nature, and when they gathered, that was all that remained.

Yuan Xiangdie was dazed upon entering, having thought her own home lavish enough before. Five years in prison had severed her from the outside world. She stood there, stunned, until she realized Little Wei was tugging at her sleeve.

“Auntie, come in! There’s so much delicious food today, all prepared for you. I haven’t sneaked a bite—aren’t I good?”

The child’s innocent face, soft voice, and the way he looked up at her melted Yuan Xiangdie’s heart, as though she’d pluck the moon and stars from the sky for him if he asked.

“Of course, Little Wei is the best. Go wash your hands, and once I’ve changed my shoes, I’ll find you.”

Assured, Little Wei dashed off, and soon the sound of a stool being dragged and water running came from the kitchen.

“My, what a beautiful girl! No wonder that stubborn son of mine’s been so impervious all these years; he’s been hiding such a lovely girl from me!”

Qi Mei had a penchant for pretty girls, especially gentle ones like this—so easygoing, with no apparent family troubles. Her son was always prudent, never involving himself with girls of questionable background or falling into melodramatic affairs.

Jin Yuan thoughtfully offered a pair of pink slippers. Yuan Xiangdie meant to refuse softly, but he anticipated it.

“Little Wei picked these out for you.”

She was silenced at once, embarrassed to say anything further.

“Auntie, it’s nice to meet you. I haven’t much to offer, but here’s a set of sleepwear I designed myself, not yet released—entirely handmade. I hope you’ll like it.”

“Oh, and there’s one for Uncle as well.”

She handed over the box. Qi Mei, noting the logo on top, thought she’d seen it before—it seemed like a high-end, if new, brand.

“Oh dear, you shouldn’t have brought gifts on your first visit, and one for that old man too! How thoughtful.”

She accepted it cheerfully, and Yuan Xiangdie relaxed, grateful that her host’s mother was so approachable; otherwise, her future days here would be bleak.

“All right, enough standing in the doorway—come on in! And you, letting the girl stand there so long without a word—go help your father in the kitchen!”

Watching this formidable, domineering lady, Yuan Xiangdie couldn’t help but question Jin Yuan’s words. Did this woman truly prefer her designing clothes or sitting all day drinking tea and chatting?

Of course not. This gentle demeanor was only on the surface. One couldn’t just come out and say the mother liked playing cards, attending fashion shows, and admiring pretty girls.

How awkward that would be.