Chapter 34: Go Bring Jiang Yu Back

In the courtyard, Li Meng held a water bucket while standing on a small stool, dousing He Lian from head to toe.

He Lian opened his mouth slightly, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back.

Streams of water meandered down his defined muscular contours, washing away all the dried blood splatters on his body.

Not far opposite them, the guard guarding the entrance to the torture chamber was doing push-ups. His two sturdy arms trembled frantically, looking as though he might fly off at any moment.

“Keep going, there are still over a hundred left,” Ye Xun said, sitting cross-legged on his back and patting the guard’s shoulder. “Next time you dare let little Jiang Yu into the torture chamber, it won’t be as simple as just doing push-ups.”

The guard gritted his teeth. How was he supposed to know Jiang Yu had snuck in back then?

Besides…

Tilting his head sideways, he barked at Ye Xun, “Do you eat eight meals a day or what?!”

He Lian cast a quick glance over, then took a sniff of his arm. After ensuring there was no strange odor left, he walked into the second-floor bathroom of the main barracks to shower again, even lathering up with body wash three times.

When he finished, he pushed open the bedroom door.

Zhuang Yumian had already instructed someone to buy the art supplies and was currently setting up an oil painting easel for Jiang Yu.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yu sat on the bed, meticulously arranging the oil paintbrushes in order.

The tools and materials He Lian bought were all top-tier major brands, completely on a different level compared to what Song Xueyan provided. That woman wanted her to paint for her, yet refused to spend money on proper supplies.

She wanted to target Song Xueyan first.

Since He Lian hated being deceived most of all…

The matter of ghostwriting would definitely make Song Xueyan pay a devastatingly painful price.

Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, He Lian watched her fiercely intense and ruthless expression and couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. She was probably imitating his appearance in the torture chamber just now.

She looked just like a little lion cub that had barely started learning to hunt alongside its mother lion.

Damn, she was so cute.

Though with that level of “ferocity,” she probably couldn’t scare a single soul.

Zhuang Yumian stood up, adjusted the easel, and turned around to see He Lian wearing a foolishly smitten grin. She bit her lower lip subtly.

“Commander, everything has been bought.”

She then pointed at the My Little Pony suitcase that Shen Jin had brought over earlier that morning: “Also, the women’s toiletries and items you asked Vice President Shen to bring are all in here.”

He Lian: “Alright, you can head out first.”

Zhuang Yumian went downstairs with a cold gaze.

He Lian closed the door, tiptoed over to the bedside, and sat right down beside Jiang Yu. The sheer weight of his entire body instantly caused the mattress to sink.

Jiang Yu’s eyes widened little by little.

She watched as the paintbrushes she had painstakingly arranged by size all rolled away in chaos.

Turning her head, a hint of displeasure gathered between her brows.

He Lian’s heart skipped a beat, and he hurriedly pressed down on the brushes.

Oh no, oh no.

Jiang Yu pried his fingers open, retrieved the brushes, turned her body away in another direction, crossed her arms, and stared at the brushes of varying lengths while recalling the works she had painted in the past.

She still decided to paint something new.

That would be safer.

Rather than directly telling him the truth about the ghostwriting, letting He Lian unravel the clues himself to gradually accumulate his rage until a full volcanic eruption occurred would be far more effective.

With that foul temper of his, Song Xueyan was as good as dead.

As Jiang Yu was deep in thought, her shoulder was suddenly nudged gently. He Lian leaned over, bringing with him the faint, clean scent of gardenia body wash from his recent shower that brushed past her nose.

Jiang Yu froze slightly.

He Lian had never seen her look so focused and serious, finding it endlessly fascinating. His long fingers cradled the side of Jiang Yu’s slender face, rubbing and pinching it like playdough as he unconsciously chuckled softly.

He naturally wanted to lean in and kiss Jiang Yu’s lips.

Yet meeting the girl’s clear, innocent pupils, the tips of He Lian’s ears flushed slightly red. Cursing himself internally as a beast, he forced himself to stop and changed the subject.

“A-Yu, what are you thinking about?”

Jiang Yu: “Paint a picture… give it to you.”

A surge of pure delight flooded the depths of He Lian’s eyes, and a wave of tingling warmth rushed through his heart.

“For me? Giving it to me? Really? Really?”

Jiang Yu: “…”

Was it really worth being this happy?

He truly was a painting fanatic.

In Yangcheng, at the Song family’s ancestral residence.

A group of people held their breath as they stared fixedly at Song Xueyan, who was answering the phone.

Song Xueyan’s fingertips were icy cold. Exchanging a glance with Song Qian, she said in a soft voice into the receiver, “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Song. I am Shen Jin, Vice President of Dingsheng Group. Please hand the phone to your father.”

Song Xueyan handed it over, and Song Qian pointed to himself in confusion.

Asking him to take it?

What did Shen Jin want with him?

Anxiouly, Song Qian took the phone: “Vice President Shen, is there something I can help you with?”

“Song Qian.” Shen Jin’s voice sounded as if its temperature had been adjusted manually, turning frostily cold in an instant. “Our crown prince said that Jiang Yu will be taken care of by us from now on. As for the Song family’s tea plantation, he has no interest in it. Since it’s the foundation the old man worked half his life to build, you can keep it. A pittance like that is useless to us anyway.”

Song Qian froze, his eyes instantly turning vigilant as he adopted the caring tone of an elder: “Then… is A-Yu doing well over at Mr. He’s side?”

“Of course. Jinzhou doesn’t have nearly as much rainy weather as Yangcheng.”

Song Qian let out a dry laugh into the phone, and just as he was pondering how to bring up asking for her back, he suddenly heard Shen Jin speak again.

“By the way, taking Jiang Yu away was indeed abrupt on He Lian’s part. He mentioned that as compensation, he will organize a grand final art exhibition for Miss Xueyan, complete with a nationwide tour. We hope Mr. Song accepts it with pleasure.”

With that, Shen Jin hung up the phone.

Song Qian’s entire body went cold, his neck stiffening as his vision began to darken.

Song Xueyan hurriedly asked: “Dad, what’s wrong?”

Slumping into his chair, Song Qian felt his head spinning: “Judging by Shen Jin’s tone, they probably already know that Jiang Yu is the old man’s heir… but they don’t want anything.”

Song Xun let out a massive sigh of relief and sat back down: “That’s good then, that’s good.”

However, Song Xueyan couldn’t relax. Sure enough, Song Qian looked toward her: “Furthermore, He Lian also said he wants to host a final art exhibition for Xueyan… and even make it a nationwide tour.”

Song Xun slapped the armrest of his chair and cursed, “We’re screwed!”

Without Jiang Yu, Song Xueyan didn’t even know how to mix colors properly!

That damnable beast He Lian—why was he still relentless in coming after the Song family?!

Holding her son, Song Jitang’s eyes darted rapidly: “Still, this at least proves that the lunatic hasn’t blabbed any nonsense yet. We can just hire someone to forge a painting to get through this, can’t we?”

Song Xueyan naturally knew this. She had already asked her agent long ago; even if Jiang Yu’s painting style was eccentric and unique, forging it wasn’t difficult as long as the money was right.

However, Jiang Yu was a ticking time bomb!

What if He Lian found a doctor to treat that crazy brain of hers? She would regain her clarity sooner or later. Once she revealed the truth about the ghostwriting, she would still be dead.

Song Qian had also realized this point. Returning the phone to Song Xueyan, his pulled-back hand tugged ruthlessly at the mustache by his mouth as he stood up: “We have to bring Jiang Yu back.”

Song Jitang looked up at her eldest brother and immediately tried to stop him: “No way! This matter is just about to pass. If you go provoke He Lian right now, aren’t you actively poking the tiger’s backside?”

Su Yunying shot her a fierce glare and took Song Xueyan’s hand.

Of course, only a mother truly cared for her own daughter.

Song Jitang was married off into the Zhou family. The moment she heard the inheritance was safely secured, she stopped caring whether Xueyan lived or died.

“Sister-in-law,” Su Yunying said, “if Jiang Yu, this landmine, detonates and Xueyan suffers, do you think He Lian won’t take back the inheritance in a fit of rage? It’s not like you haven’t seen his wild and perverse temper before.”

Song Jitang’s expression indeed shifted slightly. Tugging at the shawl on her shoulders, she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

Song Xueyan, that little bitch.

If you don’t have the skills, don’t take on the job, bringing ruin upon everyone now.

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