Chapter 10: Bullying Jiang Yu? Did You Clear It with Me First?

The next day, the rain cleared, leaving bright skies.

The entire old mansion was soaked in a cool moisture. Mist drifted over from the surrounding mountainsides, concealing all traces of the previous night’s relentless, surging passion.

Inside the main hall, Song Qian frowned in deep displeasure as he looked at the two people seated across from him.

Why had his younger brother and younger sister come?

He lifted the tea lid, glanced at the color of the tea, and asked, “Has something happened?”

Song Xun and Song Jitang exchanged a glance, both letting out a quiet, synchronized sneer.

Their eldest brother was certainly cunning, wanting to keep all the benefits to himself.

Who didn’t know that He Lian had come to the old mansion? Song Qian wasn’t the only one eager to curry favor with the crown prince of Jinzhou; even if it was just showing their faces to leave a good impression, it would be worth it.

Song Xun said, “We were worried you might not entertain him properly, Brother, so Jitang and I came over to take a look.”

Hearing this, Song Xueyan straightened her posture, showing none of the respect a junior ought to offer her elders.

Song Jitang cast a cold glance at her, her voice turning sharp and high-pitched: “Xueyan, the cheongsam you’re wearing today is truly exquisite. If I recall correctly, you usually can’t bear to wear it out, right?”

Song Xueyan raised her delicate white neck slightly, offering a smile without saying a word.

This cheongsam was handmade by a non-material cultural heritage successor. Whether it was the crocheting or the dyeing, every technique used carried over a hundred years of history. Setting aside its astronomical price, the production alone consumed a vast amount of time.

Although she didn’t care for this young aunt of hers, Song Jitang was right; had it not been to impress He Lian, she would never have brought out this prized, luxury piece from the bottom of her trunk.

As they spoke, a servant’s clear voice announced from outside: “Mr. He has arrived!”

Everyone in the hall stood up in unison. Song Xueyan went so far as to check her hem before stepping forward an extra pace.

She was confident that a man wouldn’t be able to avert his eyes from a poised, elegant woman.

Footsteps approached from afar. Stepping through the puddles on the ground, the man came to a halt. Wrapped in a formal suit even more grand than yesterday’s, he exuded an aura of wild, unbridled dominance. He lowered his head to adjust his wristwatch, looking to be in an exceptionally good mood.

Song Xun and Song Jitang rushed forward to greet him, competing to introduce themselves, each terrified that their name might be spoken a second later than the other’s.

He Lian raised his head. Beneath his deep-set brow ridge, a pair of narrow eyes held a trace of indifference. He merely nodded politely, his thin lips opening slightly: “I still have matters to attend to, so I won’t linger.”

Song Xueyan froze: “Mr. He, are you leaving already?”

He Lian glanced sideways at her.

If I don’t leave, am I supposed to stay and let you play more tricks on me?

Besides, he needed to head back and test what was actually inside that paint tin to make someone so insatiable. Once the results were out, he would personally skin Song Xueyan alive.

Last night, just a light whiff of it had caused him to toss and turn with the little fool until past three in the morning. Had he not been worried that Jiang Yu couldn’t bear his strength, he wouldn’t have given her any time to sleep at all.

“By the way.”

He Lian offered a half-smile: “I remember during my last stay here, Miss Song had someone bring over a painting. I quite liked it. I wonder if I might take it with me?”

Song Xueyan felt a chill at her fingertips. That painting had already been thrown away.

She had assumed He Lian didn’t care for it.

However, reacting quickly, her smile remained perfectly composed: “What a pity. I felt that painting wasn’t good enough, so I had it thrown out. If Mr. He likes it, I can paint another one for you another day.”

“No need.”

Whether it was Song Xueyan’s imagination or not, He Lian’s tone instantly sank into a much darker registry: “Miss Song’s final art exhibition before her retirement is only three months away. You had better focus on your main priorities first.”

Song Xueyan forced an apologetic smile. Just as the group was about to escort He Lian out, a sharp, childish scolding suddenly echoed from the South Court. Though it came from a distance, every word was crystal clear.

“Jump! Go on and jump!”

“Why aren’t you jumping! You lunatic!”

Song Qian was startled, recognizing the voice as that of Song Jitang’s son, Zhou Yun. He hurriedly looked over at his younger sister.

Song Jitang, however, didn’t care in the slightest; instead, a hint of smugness crossed her face.

Catching the key words, He Lian’s brows twitched, and he took long strides forward.

Who the hell is bullying Jiang Yu?

Arriving at the South Court, seven-year-old Zhou Yun, dressed in a traditional Chinese Tang suit, was crouching by the pond and laughing hysterically. Pointing at the helpless Jiang Yu across from him, he raised his chin: “Smelly lunatic! Do you dare to jump?!”

He even picked up a muddy stone from the ground and hurled it forcefully at Jiang Yu!

“Jump! I want to watch you drown!”

The girl stood straight there, making no attempt to dodge, as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

Floating on the dark green surface of the pond water were a few of her paintbrushes.

He Lian walked swiftly, abruptly coming to a halt as he witnessed this scene.

The several people behind him nearly bumped into him, slamming the brakes frantically where they stood.

Song Qian secretly sensed trouble brewing and pulled at Song Jitang: “Quickly, call Yun’er back.”

Song Jitang raised her eyebrows—what was the big deal? It was just a child having fun. Besides, Jiang Yu was going to die sooner or later anyway; being able to amuse her son was just her deceased mother accumulating good karma.

Staring at He Lian’s broad back, Song Jitang’s eyes darted as she said, “Mr. He, you see, my child is just too mischievous. He’s made a fool of himself in front of you.”

Despite her words, her tone carried a boastful ring, as though a seven-year-old teasing his cousin was a sign of great capability.

He Lian narrowed his eyes, his emotionless voice sounding from above: “Your son?”

A storm was brewing.

The three members of the eldest branch instinctively stepped back in unison.

Song Jitang hurriedly nodded: “Yes, yes, he’s my son!”

He Lian’s thin lips moved, but he swallowed the words right at the tip of his tongue. He cast a glance at Jiang Yu; urged on by Zhou Yun, the little fool actually showed signs of jumping in.

Jiang Yu felt his gaze, her fingertips resting by her side twitching slightly.

She really did draw him over.

Taking a subtle breath, she made a large stride forward, only to be scooped back in mid-air by a powerful arm and pulled right into a firm embrace.

Her hazy pupils met the man’s gaze. He Lian was exceptionally furious: “Are a few paintbrushes really worth risking your life for?!”

Jiang Yu: “I… like them.”

She really has been mistreated by the Song family for too long to treat everything like a treasure.

He had noticed it last night—Jiang Yu’s little wooden building was filled to the brim with random odds and ends: used lighters, bent spoons, broken clothes hangers. It looked just like a recycling plant.

He looked back and swept a cold glance over the members of the Song family.

Before Song Jitang could figure out the situation, she saw He Lian walking with meteor-like strides right up to Zhou Yun. Terrified by the menacing aura bearing down on him, the little boy turned around, wanting to run!

He Lian grabbed him by the collar with one hand, suspending the boy directly over the pond.

Zhou Yun’s neck was strangled by his tight round collar, his chubby face flushing red as he kicked and screamed frantically.

“Mom! Mom! Help!”

Song Xun was flabbergasted, looking at his eldest brother’s family, only to see the three of them tacitly averting their faces.

Zhou Yun was courting death on his own; he better not drag them down with him.

Only then did Song Jitang snap out of it, rushing over in a panic.

He Lian: “Stand right there.”

Two crisp, sharp words acted like ropes tied around Song Jitang’s feet, forcing her to freeze on the spot. Watching her son in terror, her legs trembled uncontrollably: “Mr. He! What are you doing?!”

He Lian glanced down at Jiang Yu in his arms. The girl was snuggled against his shoulder, unbelievably well-behaved.

Damn it, he felt even angrier!

How could anyone feel entitled to bully this fool?!

He Lian lowered Zhou Yun, plunging the boy’s ankles into the water.

The child kicked violently, splashing water in all directions.

Song Jitang’s face paled with fright, and she dropped to her knees with a thud.

“Mr. He! Please spare my son! I beg you!”

The surrounding servants were equally trembling with fear. Several began taking off their shoes, terrified that He Lian might throw Zhou Yun in. After all, this deep pond had no visible bottom, and Zhou Yun didn’t know how to swim.

He Lian sneered, showing not an ounce of mercy: “If you don’t want me to throw your son in, then get in the water yourself and retrieve Jiang Yu’s paintbrushes.”

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