In the quiet study, the heavy scent of old books lingered in the air.
Old Master Jiang sat behind his rosewood desk, his expression dark as he glared at his eldest grandson lounging casually in front of him. His anger was barely contained as he snapped, “Tell me, how long has it been since you moved out? If today weren’t your mother’s birthday, would you have even bothered to come home?”
Jiang Ci leaned lazily against the back of the chair, his posture unhurried and elegant. “Isn’t it better that I don’t come back?” he said coolly. “That way, I wouldn’t upset you.”
“Brother, Grandfather has been thinking about you,” Jiang Muhang interjected, frowning slightly, clearly uncomfortable with his elder brother’s irreverent attitude.
Jiang Ci arched an eyebrow, his tone indifferent. “Then, what do you want to talk about?”
Old Master Jiang wasted no time. “Tell me honestly, is the Sheng Group yours?”
At this, Jiang Ci’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “So what if it’s mine? So what if it’s not?”
“Such a huge matter, and you still chose to hide it from your family?” Old Master Jiang tried to restrain his temper, speaking with forced calm. “How did the Sheng Group end up in your hands?”
“It’s not mine.” Jiang Ci crossed his long legs with careless grace, his voice lazy. “Jiang Haoyan is the child of the Sheng family. I’m merely managing it on his behalf.”
He paused, his tone faintly mocking. “That little troublemaker won’t grow up until he learns to carry this burden himself. What a nuisance.”
“What?” Both Old Master Jiang and Jiang Muhang were stunned.
Although Jiang Ci had previously said the child wasn’t his, everyone had assumed it was an excuse—an attempt to conceal an illegitimate son. After all, as the head of a major conglomerate, having an illegitimate child would tarnish his image.
And now he suddenly claimed that Jiang Haoyan was the son of the Sheng family. How could they not be shocked?
“Is this true?” Old Master Jiang demanded, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Jiang Ci let out a short laugh. “Otherwise, how do you think the Sheng Group ended up in my hands for no reason?”
Old Master Jiang was momentarily speechless. After a long pause, he glared and said angrily, “This is a serious matter. Why didn’t you tell us the child’s identity earlier?”
“Was it necessary to?” Jiang Ci stood, clearly done with the discussion. “If that’s all you wanted to ask, then I’ve already told you.”
He had kept silent before out of concern for Sheng Minghao, to protect that little troublemaker. But now that Sheng Minghao had fallen from power and become nothing more than a stray dog, there was no longer any reason to hide the truth.
“Wait.” Old Master Jiang’s sharp eyes half-closed as he spoke with authority. “The child is still young. Since the Sheng Group has been entrusted to you, it’s effectively yours—and thus the Jiang family’s property. You don’t need me to remind you of such a simple truth.”
Jiang Ci’s scarred hands slid casually into his pockets. The corner of his mouth lifted, as if he’d just heard a ridiculous joke. “Do you think I’d covet something that small?” he drawled.
He turned and strode out of the room with unhurried steps. “When did the Jiang family become so poor,” he added lazily, “that they’d covet a child’s things?”
Old Master Jiang’s face turned red with fury. He slammed his palm onto the table. “This unfilial brat! He’s going to anger me to death!”
“Grandfather, don’t be mad,” Jiang Muhang said quickly, trying to calm him down. “Eldest Brother always speaks that way. He didn’t mean it.”
“What’s going on in that boy’s head?” Old Master Jiang fumed. “Such a massive corporation handed to him for free, and he doesn’t even want it? He claims it’s all for the boy’s sake? He doesn’t even care for his own company! If he allies with Hengyuan Group, what chance will the other families have?”
Jiang Muhang’s eyes darkened slightly. “I think what Eldest Brother said is just an excuse. When he was managing Hengyuan Group, his investments never failed, and no competitor could take advantage of him. Since he’s taken over the Sheng Group, it won’t just be a matter of ‘trusteeship.’”
He paused, lowering his voice. “Calling it trusteeship is just a polite way to put it. In the end, whether the Sheng Group is ever returned to that boy or not—it’ll all depend on Eldest Brother’s will.”
When Jiang Ci walked back into the hall, all eyes turned toward him. The eldest young master of the Jiang family—once feared, now newly returned with his sight restored—was not someone people dared provoke. Everyone watched him secretly, wary of even breathing wrong in his presence.
He sat down beside Su Yue, his arm possessively wrapping around her waist. She leaned toward him and said something softly in his ear. The icy sharpness in his brows softened instantly, the corners of his thin lips curving faintly. He was clearly in a good mood.
Could it be that this gentle Su Yue had actually tamed the once fearsome Jiang Da Shao?
When Jiang Ci returned, he found Su Yue chatting warmly with Grandma Song. Her voice was low and tender, soft as a spring breeze. It brushed against his ears, making them itch faintly.
He rubbed his ear lazily before tightening his arm around her waist.
“What did the old man want?” Su Yue whispered, tilting her head closer to him. Though his face was calm, she could tell he wasn’t happy.
“Someone wants to steal Xiao Trouble’s things,” Jiang Ci replied, glancing toward Jiang Haoyan, who was still happily perched in Grandma’s lap.
Su Yue blinked in surprise, quickly catching on. “Grandpa asked about the Sheng Group?” she murmured, frowning. “That’s Haohao’s. You won’t give it away, even if they ask.”
Jiang Ci’s eyes softened, clearly pleased by her protective words. “Mn. I won’t.”
Later that evening, Jiang Xuan rushed in from the film set, slightly out of breath. “Mom, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Something happened on set, and I came late.”
It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to come sooner, but filming had already been delayed. She had even used a double for some scenes, yet the remaining ones required her presence. Director Wu was already dissatisfied with her performance—she couldn’t risk taking more leave.
Song Xiaoqing’s expression darkened. “If you’re so busy, then stop filming altogether. The Jiang family can feed and clothe you for a lifetime; there’s no need to work yourself like this. I understand you were delayed, but outsiders don’t. They’ll think you disrespect me. Is that entertainment industry really so tempting?” Her sharp gaze shifted toward Su Yue.
It was no secret that she disapproved of both her daughters-in-law entering show business.
Jiang Xuan’s smile faltered, her delicate face turning stiff as she stood there awkwardly, looking like a scolded child.
“Sit,” Song Xiaoqing said sharply. “The banquet’s about to begin.”
Jiang Xuan sat quietly, her large eyes glistening as tears gathered. Her gaze, however, drifted toward Jiang Ci. His eyes—those cold, sharp eyes—had healed.
She knew this hadn’t happened in her previous life. Back then, his blindness and the ugly scar on his face had repulsed her daily. Yet now… the scar had faded, making his face sharper and his presence even more dangerous.
He sat slightly turned toward Su Yue, listening to her whisper something, a faint curve at his lips. The intimacy between them was plain for all to see.
Jiang Xuan’s fingers curled tightly in her lap. In her past life, if Jiang Ci had ever shown her even a fraction of such tenderness, perhaps she wouldn’t have lived such a cold, lonely existence.
She told herself she no longer hated him. But now that fate had given her a second chance, she wanted nothing more than to stay far away from him.
After the banquet, Song Xiaoqing called Su Yue into a private room, her tone seemingly warm but her words deliberate. She first asked about Su Yue and Jiang Ci’s life outside the main house, then sighed heavily.
“I don’t approve of you and Xiaoxuan joining the entertainment industry,” she said solemnly. “Do you know what others are saying about the Jiang family? They think we’ve fallen so far that our daughters-in-law must go out and make money through acting.”
Taking Su Yue’s hand gently, she continued, “Xiaoxuan truly loves acting, so I’ve said little. But Yueyue, you only went into it for fun. Listen to me, child—now that you’ve experienced it, let it go. It’s beneath you to abandon the life of a proper young madam to chase such a career.”
Su Yue withdrew her hand calmly, her lips curving into a polite smile. “I like acting too. I don’t care what others think. Mom, you don’t need to pay attention to gossip. The Jiang family’s influence speaks for itself—who would dare speak ill of you?”
Her tone was soft but firm—each word a gentle rebuttal.
Song Xiaoqing’s face stiffened. “Why can’t you understand? I’m talking about the Jiang family’s reputation.”
Su Yue tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes shimmering with amusement. “The Jiang family’s reputation is strong. Will my acting really ruin it?”
Her calmness only angered Song Xiaoqing further. Her eldest son had never listened to her, and now her daughter-in-law followed in his footsteps.
Her voice hardened. “So you just won’t listen?”
Su Yue smiled faintly. “Elders may advise, but they cannot control. Whether I act or not—that’s my own choice.”
Song Xiaoqing’s eyes flashed. “You’ve certainly learned your husband’s arrogance well.”
“In my eyes,” Su Yue replied gently, “everything about Jiang Ci is worth learning.”
That was the final straw. Song Xiaoqing’s expression darkened completely. “Leave. I don’t want to see you right now.”
Outside, Jiang Ci was waiting, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, one long leg crossed over the other. His scarred hand rested casually at his side. When the door opened, he lifted his gaze toward her.
Su Yue stepped out, her hand immediately reaching for his—rough, scarred, and warm. She held it tightly, their fingers intertwining. The hem of her pale blue skirt brushed against his black suit trousers—a quiet, intimate gesture.
“Let’s go home,” Su Yue said softly, tugging him toward the stairs. Down below, little Haohao was still giggling, smearing cake across his cheeks while Grandma Song doted on him.
“What did she say?” Jiang Ci asked idly as they walked.
Su Yue tilted her face toward him, mischief flashing in her eyes. “Aoao… I might have made your mother angry again.”
Jiang Ci’s lips twitched, a quiet laugh escaping him.
…
The weather turned colder, snowflakes drifting heavier by the day, yet the city still buzzed with New Year’s excitement.
Because of filming, Su Yue hadn’t seen much of her friends Jin Mingyuan and Xu Xue. On New Year’s Eve, they sent her birthday wishes in their group chat, reminding her that tomorrow was her birthday.
She blinked, momentarily surprised—she’d been so busy she’d completely forgotten. Jiang Ci hadn’t mentioned it either.
“Yueyue, I’m preparing a birthday surprise for you tomorrow!” Jin Mingyuan texted eagerly.
Su Yue asked what it was, but her friend refused to say. After chatting a bit more, she finally put her phone aside.
Just then, Jiang Ci stepped out of the bathroom, hair still damp, droplets sliding down his sharp jawline. The faint scent of soap and masculinity lingered in the air.
Su Yue’s eyes softened. “Aoao,” she said with a small smile, “tomorrow’s my birthday.”
Jiang Ci paused mid-motion, towel still in hand. He looked up, his tone light and lazy. “Oh.”