This was an old estate—not the kind of opulent mansion dripping with gold and splendor, but a traditional Chinese courtyard bearing the marks of time.
Blue-gray bricks and dark tiles formed the structure, with upturned eaves and gracefully curved corners. In the courtyard stood a large ginkgo tree, its trunk so thick it would take two people to encircle it. Its branches and leaves spread out like a massive umbrella.
The car came to a stop on the bluish brick ground of the courtyard.
Han Yan stepped out first and opened the rear door.
Wen Yining took a deep breath and, in her seven-centimeter heels, stepped steadily onto the grounds of the Xi family’s old estate.
Han Yan led her through the front courtyard into the main hall.
The main hall was decorated in a traditional Chinese style—rosewood furniture, calligraphy and painting screens, and a faint scent of sandalwood lingering in the air. The windows were open, and a gentle breeze rustled the gauze curtains.
The Old Master sat in the armchair at the center of the room.
Xi Zhenshan was eighty-one this year. His hair was completely white, but his spirit was vigorous, his back straight and his posture upright.
He wore a dark gray Zhongshan suit and leaned on a rosewood cane. His face showed little expression, but his eyes shone like two lamps, scrutinizing Wen Yining as she entered.
Wen Yining came to a stop and gave a slight bow. “Good day, Chairman Xi.”
She was grateful for the years of etiquette training she had undergone, which now proved useful.
Her voice was neither too loud nor too soft, her demeanor neither subservient nor aloof. Even the curve of her lips was just right—not fawning, yet not cold.
Xi Zhenshan studied her for two seconds before nodding.
“Sit.”
Wen Yining took a seat on a nearby chair, placing her hands on her knees and keeping her back straight.
These were all things Mother Wen had hired someone to teach her—posture must be proper, one must not lean against the backrest, cross one’s legs, or let one’s hands wander.
Xi Zhenshan picked up his teacup, took a sip, set it down, and lightly tapped his cane on the floor.
“You were wronged last night.”
Wen Yining was taken aback.
She had expected The Old Master to point at her and call her a scheming woman, or ask how much she wanted for what happened last night, or perhaps even send her to the hospital for a checkup to ensure she wouldn’t leave any lingering trouble for the Xi family.
But she hadn’t expected him to say she had been wronged.
It wasn’t that Wen Yining was being overly sentimental. She admitted she felt like crying, because it had been a long time since she had encountered someone so reasonable.
“Grandfather Xi,” Wen Yining’s voice was slightly hoarse, but she tried to answer calmly, “About last night, I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s one thing I’d like to clarify first—this wasn’t my intention.”
Xi Zhenshan looked at her but said nothing.
Wen Yining took a breath and continued, “I know you might not believe this, especially since the photos were taken and the topic trended online. From any angle, it looks like I took advantage. But I truly didn’t know what was in that glass of juice, nor do I know how I ended up in that room.”
As she spoke, she kept her eyes fixed on Xi Zhenshan without flinching.
But she felt guilty.
Because she knew that glass of juice had been handed to her by Mother Wen.
She didn’t know what Mother Wen had put in it, but she knew the Wen family was involved.
And she was the Wen family’s adopted daughter, a marriage tool cultivated by Mother Wen.
To outsiders, she was a conspirator in this affair.
Xi Zhenshan picked up his teacup again, took another sip, set it down slowly, and tapped his cane twice on the floor.
“I know.”
Wen Yining was stunned once more.
“You… know?”
“My grandson, what kind of woman hasn’t he seen?” Xi Zhenshan’s voice was calm and unhurried, as if discussing an ordinary matter. “Women trying to climb into his bed could line up from here to outside the city, but he’s twenty-six this year and hasn’t let anyone succeed.”
“Do you think a twenty-three-year-old girl like you could win him over just by serving two glasses of wine?”
Wen Yining opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say.
“About last night’s incident, I know someone had intentions behind it.” Xi Zhenshan tapped his cane lightly twice. “As for who harbored those intentions, you should have an idea in your heart.”
Wen Yining’s fingers tightened around the fabric on her knees.
She had an idea.
She had a very clear idea.
“But rest assured,” Xi Zhenshan said, “this matter won’t be left for you to bear alone. A young woman’s purity isn’t meant to be trampled upon by others.”
Wen Yining lowered her head, her eyelashes trembling slightly.
In her imagination before coming here, she had thought The Old Master would interrogate her, humiliate her, or make her sign some confidentiality agreement.
But The Old Master did none of those things.
Every word he spoke seemed to be for her benefit, which made her feel even more guilty.
Because the Wen family had indeed schemed against Xi Yu, and she was also a beneficiary.
Right now, she completely wore the expression of someone who had gained an advantage while pretending innocence.
“Grandfather Xi,” Wen Yining looked up, her voice trembling slightly, “I… I’m fine with it.”
Please don’t let Xi Yu take responsibility for her.
Losing her virginity was one thing, but if he really had to take responsibility, she would be sacrificing her entire life.
She absolutely didn’t want that!
Xi Zhenshan glanced at her, his gaze deep as if appraising a precious porcelain piece, or weighing an uncut piece of jade.
“Stay here for now,” he said. “I’ll have people handle matters outside. The PR team will issue a statement to the press. As for the rest…”
He paused.
“We’ll wait until Xi Yu arrives.”
Wen Yining’s heart clenched suddenly.
Xi Yu was coming here?
She remembered his back as he slammed the door and left this morning, and those words: “Don’t ever appear before me again from now on.”
He hated her to death right now, convinced that she had schemed against him.
If he knew she was at his grandfather’s house… she would probably be seen as a venomous woman spreading poisonous rumors in his eyes.
“Grandfather Xi,” Wen Yining’s voice grew urgent, “I should leave instead. It’s enough to have rumors refuted about this matter. Besides, Young Master Xi probably doesn’t want to see me right now…”
Xi Zhenshan snorted, interrupting her: “There are plenty of people he doesn’t want to see. If I tell him to see someone, he’ll see them.”
Wen Yining: “…”
She didn’t know how to respond to that.
The Old Master stood up with his cane, and Han Yan immediately stepped forward to support him.
Xi Zhenshan took two steps, then stopped and looked back at Wen Yining.
“Girl, let me ask you one question.”
Wen Yining stood up, positioning herself respectfully. “Please ask.”
“If given the choice, would you be willing to marry my grandson?”
The main hall fell silent for a moment.
Wind blew in from outside the window, making the gauze curtains sway slightly, dispersing a wisp of sandalwood incense smoke.
Wen Yining stood in place, countless thoughts racing through her mind.
Marry him?
Was she crazy?
She and Xi Yu had only met a few times in total, their conversations adding up to no more than ten sentences—half of which were greetings, thank yous, and goodbyes.
He treated her as cold as ice, and just this morning pointed at her nose, accusing her of being calculating.
Was she willing to marry him? She wasn’t a masochist.
Not marry him?
Mother Wen had invested so much effort, spent so many years grooming her from the age of fifteen until now, all for this day.
If she said she wasn’t willing, how would she explain it to the Wen family?
Mother Wen’s words, “You must learn to be grateful,” echoed in her ears every day.
Well… this was a life-or-death question.
Wen Yining took a deep breath, raised her head, and looked into Xi Zhenshan’s eyes.
“Grandfather Xi,” her voice was soft but each word was spoken clearly, “whether I’m willing or not isn’t the most important thing. What matters is that your grandson isn’t willing.”
Xi Zhenshan narrowed his eyes.
“And,” Wen Yining continued, “even if I were willing, I wouldn’t want to marry into the family this way. It’s nothing to be proud of.”
After finishing, she lowered her head again, waiting for The Old Master’s reaction.
The main hall remained silent for several seconds.
Then Xi Zhenshan laughed.
“Good.” The Old Master nodded, tapping his cane on the floor once. “I was waiting for you to say that.”
Wen Yining didn’t understand what he meant.
Three days later.
Standing by the window on the second floor of the Wen family home, looking down at the tree-lined path below, Wen Yining finally understood what The Old Master had meant.
Three days ago, when she returned from the Xi family’s old residence, it was Han Yan who drove her back.
The Old Master hadn’t said much, only telling her to go home and wait for news.
She didn’t know what news she was waiting for and didn’t dare ask.
When Mother Wen saw her return, a flicker of surprise crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by a smile as she took Wen Yining’s hand and said, “It’s good you’re back, it’s good you’re back.”
As if nothing had happened.
Wen Yining didn’t expose her.
Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t.
She had lived in this house for fifteen years and knew the rules of the game here all too well.
As long as she still lived under this roof, she had to play by the rules of this roof.
Breaking the facade would benefit no one, especially not her.
But this morning, Mother Wen suddenly burst into her room, her voice trembling: “Yining! Get up quickly! The Xi family is here!”
When Wen Yining sat up in bed, she thought she was dreaming.
Until she stood by the window and saw the convoy slowly making its way down the tree-lined path.
Leading the way was a black Maybach, followed by six identical black sedans, lined up in a row like a long black dragon stretching from the intersection all the way to the entrance of the Wen family home.
The scene was as grand as something out of a movie.