After Lin Yulan made such a public fool of herself, Lin Weixin couldn’t quite save face. He raised his glass with an awkward smile:
“Our family discipline has been lax. Sorry to have made a spectacle of ourselves.”
Lin Chengyou, as her father, immediately played dead and lowered his head. Lin Haojie went even further, pretending to be clueless with a silly grin on his face.
Fortunately, Qin Nancheng didn’t mind at all. He gave the old master an out, straightened his posture, and raised his soda:
“It’s no problem.”
Once the commander moved, the soldiers behind him followed suit. In perfect unison, they raised their sodas as well—even their “toast” to the old master carried a bold, heroic air:
“To you!”
That resounding shout echoed layer upon layer through the vast first floor of the villa.
The soldiers Qin Nancheng brought with him were exceptionally disciplined. No matter how others squabbled or tore at each other, they remained unmoved, steady as mountains.
When Lin Yulan made a fool of herself, every one of them kept their eyes straight ahead, as if they hadn’t seen a thing.
Lin Xiwei was even more composed than they were. From beginning to end, she didn’t spare Lin Yulan a single proper glance, as though she didn’t even consider her a worthy opponent.
Qin Nancheng, meanwhile, was quietly observing Lin Xiwei, unconsciously revising his assessment of her upward.
“About taking up a post in the south—have you thought it through, Lin Xiwei?”
Qin Nancheng suddenly said this, leaving Lin Xiwei momentarily confused.
She placed a spring pancake wrapped with roast duck into her grandfather’s bowl and looked over with puzzled eyes:
“A post in the south?”
“Oh, it’s like this,” the old master explained, smiling with satisfaction as he glanced at his granddaughter, pleased by her respect for elders. “Your aunt’s temporary position at the Department of Foreign Affairs—you and I talked about it some time ago.”
Lin Xiwei’s hand, reaching for another spring pancake, paused. Her gaze shifted involuntarily toward Qin Nancheng.
As for her aunt, Lin Chenghua, she was almost a taboo topic for Qin Nancheng.
Back then, Lin Xiwei’s aunt, Lin Chenghua, had been serving as ambassador at a Chinese embassy in a Southeast Asian country. Then a serious riot and violent conflict broke out locally.
Lin Chenghua was tragically killed in the line of duty.
At the time, Qin Nancheng had been leading a transport aircraft crew to evacuate overseas Chinese. Lin Chenghua had already boarded the plane—when a sudden accident occurred…
A large local Chinese family was being hunted down. They arrived with their entire clan, kneeling on the runway and begging for help.
Lin Chenghua went back down with her colleagues and marine comrades, allowing the children of that family to board the aircraft instead.
She stayed behind with others to protect the able-bodied adults of the family—yet tragedy still struck.
…
Lin Xiwei leaned forward and handed the wrapped roast duck toward Qin Nancheng.
Unexpectedly, he was a step faster. His large hand steadied the bowl, his long arm extending as he handed it directly to her:
“Thank you.”
Lin Xiwei looked up in surprise. The emotion in Qin Nancheng’s deep eyes was extremely complex, making her heart tremble slightly.
Her aunt’s sacrifice had ultimately left a knot in Qin Nancheng’s heart.
Lin Xiwei tried to comfort him:
“I’m proud of my aunt. If I go south to serve in the Department of Foreign Affairs, I’m willing. I’ll be like her—using my life to fulfill my duties, protect the lives of our compatriots, and defend the dignity of our country.”
Every word rang out firm and resolute.
The way Qin Nancheng looked at her completely changed.
She understood him.
And she understood even more deeply the guilt and torment he had carried all these years.
Qin Nancheng knew that Lin Chenghua’s decision to leave the plane had been dictated by her duty. Anyone in that position would shoulder the same responsibility and make the same choice.
But after all, the Qin and Lin families were old friends.
By official standards, no one was at fault. Emotionally, though, it was something no one could bear.
Seeing how sensible his granddaughter was, the old master felt deeply gratified:
“Well said! For generations, the Lin family has never produced cowards!”
Just as his words fell, Lin Chengyou suddenly interjected:
“Dad, Xiwei is still a girl. The Department of Foreign Affairs requires overseas postings. It’s inconvenient for a girl to be abroad. Think about my sister—she died back then because of that. It’d be better to let Haojie take the position instead.”
“Enough!” The old master slammed the table in fury, beard bristling and eyes blazing.
“Our Lin family has been upright and unyielding for generations—how did we end up with such a spineless wretch like you?!”
…
The dining room fell into a terrifying silence.
Qin Nancheng stood up and gave an order: “All personnel—stand up. Outside. Have a cigarette.”
Shua!
A group of grown men sprang to their feet in perfect unison—even the angle at which their calves pressed against the chairs was identical.
This round after round of Lin family dinner-table drama had completely short-circuited Qin Nancheng’s squad of steel-straight men. Awkward and at a loss, they could only retreat from the scene, giving the family space to deal with their internal mess.
Otherwise, this meal was doomed to be ruined.
They went out to smoke a cigarette and clear their heads.
Inside the dining room.
The old master slapped the table again and again, so hard it echoed, as if he wanted to swing his cane and smash something:
“Can we just eat a proper meal, huh? Can we?! Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?!”
Lin Xiwei stood up to help calm him, gently soothing him:
“Don’t get angry, Grandpa, please don’t. Your heart isn’t good, and your blood pressure is high—you have to be careful.”
She was genuinely scared.
If the tragedy from her previous life happened again, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Only then did the old master rein in his temper slightly, though his tone remained harsh:
“Xiwei’s job is my decision. Neither you nor Haojie should even think about it.”
Lin Chengyou’s eyes flicked around, and he actually added another line:
“Dad, Haojie is the Lin family’s only male heir. Xiwei will marry out sooner or later. A cushy post like the Department of Foreign Affairs should of course go to our Lin family first!”
The old master was so angry he couldn’t speak, clutching his chest as his breathing grew labored.
“Grandpa! The medicine—the medicine!” Lin Xiwei panicked and rushed to find the fast-acting heart pills.
The butler, Uncle Zhang, had been prepared. He hurried over, tipped out a pill, and placed it under Lin Weixin’s tongue.
As if on purpose, Lin Chengyou fixed them with a vicious look and stabbed again:
“Xiwei’s future children will carry the Qin surname; Haojie’s son will carry the Lin surname! Dad, you’re not so old that you can’t tell insiders from outsiders, are you?”
The old master’s face flushed red, his lips turning purple. He trembled as he pointed at the wastrel, unable to utter a single word.
As if one more provocation would send him straight to his grave.
On the faces of Lin Chengyou and his son appeared a subtle, eerie smile.
…
Lin Xiwei finally snapped. She turned and pointed at the two of them, cursing in rage:
“You heartless, ungrateful animals! Before the New Year, my grandfather ran everywhere to get you back to the city, swallowing his pride to beg one old friend after another—and this is how you repay him?!”
“You little bitch! Who do you think you are to speak here?” Lin Chengyou had never had any real father–daughter affection for Lin Xiwei, and his words were especially vicious:
“Those who benefit from family interests have always been men. What the hell are you? A good job naturally goes to your brother—that’s a blessing reserved for the family’s only heir. You? Go eat dog shit!”
After twenty years of being sent down, Lin Chengyou really had been transformed—into someone even more crude, vulgar, violent, and utterly lacking in decency.
Lin Xiwei stood in front of her grandfather, shielding him with her body:
“Only heir? He killed someone—are you still unaware of that?”
She went straight for the jugular, her sharp gaze locking onto Lin Haojie.
To her shock, Lin Haojie wasn’t afraid at all.
He grinned back at her, slouched carelessly in his chair:
“Dad, don’t listen to her nonsense. Me, kill someone? Kill who? Got any evidence? Heh, heh!”
A chill ran through Lin Xiwei’s heart. Why was he acting like this? Could it be… he killed people often?!
It wasn’t just her—the old master was stunned as well.
He and Uncle Zhang had both seen Lin Haojie lift a stone and smash Fu Xinghan to death with their own eyes—yet here and now, the man was openly denying it.