“You’re using your big belly to force my elder brother into marriage! How shameless!”
The boy’s childish voice trembled with fury as he gritted his teeth and hurled the basketball toward Lu Zhiling.
Jiang Fusheng gasped, reaching out instinctively to pull her aside—but Lu Zhiling didn’t move.
She simply continued walking forward with calm composure, her expression distant and unreadable.
The basketball whistled past her shoulder and bounced away.
It hadn’t touched her.
The little boy clenched his jaw even tighter. His face flushed with rage as he charged toward her, cutting her off with exaggerated bravado. Then, turning his head, he glared defiantly at Jiang Fusheng as if to say—Don’t you dare interfere.
Jiang Fusheng’s face turned pale. Her lips trembled as she whispered an anxious warning under her breath, but Lu Zhiling didn’t seem to hear her.
She kept walking forward—unaware, unhurried.
The boy raised his eyebrows in triumph, a cruel smirk flickering across his lips.
She’s going to trip… she’s going to trip!
Let’s see how you fall, you blind woman!
But just as he thought victory was his, Lu Zhiling quietly lifted her foot—and brought it down sharply on the boy’s instep.
“Ah—!”
A piercing scream split the air, shrill and raw, echoing through the grand dining hall. Every head turned toward the commotion.
“Why did you step on my son!”
Xia Meiqing, a beautiful woman in a silk cheongsam (a traditional fitted Chinese dress), threw down her chopsticks and rushed over. Her painted face was twisted with alarm and anger.
Lu Zhiling held her stance for a moment longer, then slowly drew back her foot as if she had just realized what happened. Her voice was soft, calm—almost apologetic.
“I’m sorry. I can’t see.”
“It hurts, it hurts—it hurts!”
The boy, Bo Zhen, clutched his foot and hopped in circles, tears gathering in his eyes. He lost his balance and fell backward with a loud thud, crying even louder this time.
“Ahhh—!”
“Quick! Call Dr. Lu to come have a look!”
Xia Meiqing’s face blanched with distress. After one last furious glare at Lu Zhiling, she hurriedly followed her wailing son out of the hall.
The restaurant buzzed again—whispers spreading like ripples across still water.
Jiang Fusheng guided Lu Zhiling gently toward an empty table. Just as they sat down, a warm, gentle voice called out from nearby—
“Zhiling, come sit here.”
Lu Zhiling turned her head toward the voice, her eyes still clouded and distant.
It was Yu Yunfei—the former superstar who, despite being forty-three, retained her graceful beauty. She was the same woman who had yesterday suggested sending in a servant as a formality (a symbolic “stand-in” to perform wedding rituals on behalf of an absent groom, a practice sometimes seen in old aristocratic families).
Yu Yunfei sat surrounded by a few well-dressed relatives, her posture elegant and her smile practiced, befitting a lady from a powerful household.
Lu Zhiling walked over and sat down quietly.
Yu Yunfei’s gaze softened as she spoke in a tone that dripped with gentle affection.
“Do you remember my voice? I’m your Aunt Yu.”
“Hello, Aunt Yu,” Lu Zhiling replied politely, bowing her head.
“Here, have some shrimp dumplings (a classic Cantonese dim sum dish made with fresh shrimp wrapped in translucent dough).”
Yu Yunfei placed a few into Lu Zhiling’s bowl with a delicate touch. “Don’t be upset. What happened just now wasn’t your fault. Xiao Zhen was being naughty.”
The others at the table—all close to Yu Yunfei—quickly chimed in with agreement.
“Yes, we all saw it. That little rascal tried to trip you first. You only stepped on him by accident.”
“Madam Xia dotes on her son too much. I doubt she’ll let this go easily.”
“You’d better eat something and return to your room soon, Zhiling. Xia Meiqing can be vicious when she’s angry. Even the old lady doesn’t bother to stop her.”
Lu Zhiling listened quietly, neither explaining nor defending herself. She picked up her chopsticks and began eating with small, graceful motions.
“…”
Yu Yunfei’s eyes flickered with displeasure as she watched.
Her new brother -in- law had just tried to humiliat her in public, yet she showed no signs of distress—no tears, no resentment, not even a flicker of embarrassment. She simply ate, calm and unbothered, as though nothing had happened.
Yu Yunfei tilted her head, studying her more carefully. Could Bo Wang really have married someone this dull?
After a pause, she tried again, her tone more coaxing.
“Don’t worry, Zhiling. If your Aunt Xia really dares to act recklessly, I won’t just stand by.”
“Thank you, Aunt Yu.”
Lu Zhiling nodded, her voice gentle but distant. She picked up a small milk cake (a sweet Cantonese-style steamed pastry made from milk and glutinous rice flour), took a bite, and let the soft sweetness melt in her mouth.
“This is delicious,” she said lightly, turning to Jiang Fusheng. “Please get me another piece.”
“…”
Yu Yunfei’s smile stiffened. She wondered if Bo Wang had married a woman—or a block of wood.
She had originally intended to stir things up between Lu Zhiling and Xia Meiqing—to see some sparks—but before she could continue, a maid quietly approached and bent down to whisper something in her ear.
No one else could hear, but Lu Zhiling, with her sharpened senses, caught every word.
“I’ve confirmed it. The gentleman will fly back to the country tonight. When he returns, he’ll go straight to Fenglin District. He won’t come home immediately—he’ll be staying at the Vienna International Hotel. His schedule is confidential. Madam Xia doesn’t know.”
Yu Yunfei’s expression lit up with barely contained excitement. She lowered her voice.
“Book a room for me at the hotel.”
Her voice carried a trace of seductive anticipation.
She was planning to “accidentally” run into Bo Zhengrong.