The quarrel between her parents seemed to have no end in sight. Ji Ying stood quietly outside the door, then, after a few seconds, raised her hand and knocked gently.
The voices inside stopped abruptly.
She pushed the door open, tall and slender in the doorway, and said softly: “Dad, Mom, I’m back.”
Her gaze lifted toward her mother, who was leaning against the headboard, her right ankle in a plaster cast. Yu Wanqing was undeniably a beauty—even past forty, her charm remained. Yet after days of exhausting charity work and the fright she had suffered the previous night, her face now looked pale and worn.
Ji Ying suddenly felt breathless.
“Nannan…” Yu Wanqing’s expression shifted, as though afraid of startling something, and she whispered: “Come here, let Mommy take a look at you.”
Ji Ying walked forward slowly. Her father, Ji Tianze, noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and patted her shoulder with tenderness. “Now that you’re home, just rest well. Don’t think about anything else. Talk with your mother first—Dad will be downstairs.”
Ji Ying nodded firmly.
Ji Tianze left, the door clicked shut, and the room grew so quiet that even breathing could be heard.
Ji Ying extended her slender wrist, wrapping her fingers around her mother’s hand. Lowering her head, her voice trembled: “Mom, I’m sorry. I was thoughtless, running off on my own and making you worry.”
Yu Wanqing kept her gaze fixed on her daughter’s delicate features. This was the child she had raised like the apple of her eye—from frail and tiny to the graceful young woman before her.
After giving birth to Ji Chen and Ji Huai, her deepest wish had been for a daughter. So when she learned she was pregnant again, even though her health was not ideal, she insisted on carrying the baby. During that pregnancy, nightmares plagued her. She dreamt of her sweet little girl one moment, and the next, pale and lifeless on a hospital bed. She spent sleepless nights, endured hardship, and finally gave birth. The infant was so small, her cries barely audible.
Coming from a scholarly family, Yu Wanqing even consulted a fortune-teller, who said Ji Ying was born weak, prone to misfortune, forbidden from long journeys or solitude, and must be raised in comfort and care.
Sadness filled Yu Wanqing’s eyes as she tightened her grip on Ji Ying’s hand. “Nannan, do you blame Mommy?”
Her hand hurt from the pressure, but Ji Ying shook her head. “No, I don’t blame you.”
“But your father and brother say I’ve done wrong—that I’ve made you want to escape me.”
“That’s not it,” Yu Wanqing shook her head, her voice heavy with sorrow.
“Mommy is only afraid you’ll get hurt…” She stopped herself, quickly adding, “I won’t say more. I don’t want to pressure you. Please don’t be angry with Mommy.”
Ji Ying’s heart twisted painfully, yet her words came out weak: “I’m not angry…”
Yu Wanqing’s eyes grew moist, her voice hoarse: “If you’re not angry, then why do you want to leave me? Do you want to marry Jingshen because of me, too?”
The words caught in Ji Ying’s throat. She closed her eyes, clutching her mother’s hand tightly. “I don’t want to leave. I just…” She paused, struggling to continue. “…just want a little more space.”
Looking into her daughter’s weary eyes, Yu Wanqing felt a sudden stab of pain, unable to speak. She reached out and embraced her, again and again.
“Sorry, sorry…” Yu Wanqing’s words tumbled out, almost incoherent: “Nannan, give Mommy a little time. I promise I’ll find a way to change, all right?”
Ji Ying gently patted her mother’s back. After a long while, she returned the embrace and whispered: “Thank you, Mom.”
Downstairs, the servant had ladled out porridge for Ji Tianze.
Ji Chen finished his breakfast, preparing to leave for the company, his head bent as he fastened the cuff of his shirt. “Dad, how’s Mom?”
“Much better,” Ji Tianze replied. “Right now, Yingying is talking with her.”
Ji Chen gave a low acknowledgment, and for a moment, no one spoke.
The night before, both father and son had received urgent calls from the servants, rushing back from the company and only settling things in the early hours.
Ji Tianze slowly sipped his porridge, then suddenly called out to his son just as he was about to leave: “I’ve decided to agree to Yingying’s marriage with Third Fu.”
Ji Chen froze mid-step. At those words, he turned sharply, his voice rising: “Dad?”
Ji Tianze gestured to the seat opposite him. “Sit.”
“But…” Ji Chen wanted to protest, but when he met his father’s clear, piercing gaze, the words of fierce opposition stuck in his throat. After a few seconds, he spoke more gently: “I don’t ask that Yingying’s husband be outstanding, but at the very least, he should be someone who loves her.”
“That was my thought, too.” Ji Tianze lifted his eyes, asking calmly:
“But would you ever let Yingying suffer?”
“Of course not,” Ji Chen answered.
“Exactly,” Ji Tianze said. “The entire Ji family is her strength. Yingying is not lacking in love. Whoever she marries, no man is worth her suffering.”
He lit a cigarette, flicking the ash from his fingertips, his eyes sharp and commanding. “So rather than settling for mediocrity, it’s better to choose a man worthy of her. And this is Yingying’s own choice. She would rather step out of the Ji family’s greenhouse— or, you could call it, a splendid cage.”
Ji Chen’s eyes flickered with shifting emotions. After a long silence, he rubbed his brow, his gentle expression sinking. He asked quietly: “Can’t we keep her home for just two more years?”
When Ji Ying was born, Ji Chen was already in school. Later, he was consumed by studies and work, leaving little time for her. As her elder brother, he hadn’t even had the chance to protect her, and now he had to watch helplessly as she married Fu Jingshen.
Ji Tianze exhaled smoke. “This is your sister’s own choice.”
Ji Chen said nothing more. For a while, the only sound in the hall was the maid tidying up softly.
Suddenly, a servant ran in, hurrying toward the dining table. “Sir, someone has come.”
“Who?”
The servant reported: “He said his name is Fu Jingshen, and he’s here to visit Madam.”
Ji Tianze set down his chopsticks. “Invite him in.”
“Fu Jingshen was with Yingying yesterday,” Ji Chen thought for a moment, quickly piecing together the information. His expression shifted several times.
Ji Tianze clearly realized the same thing, letting out a cool, indifferent chuckle.
Before long, a tall figure appeared at the Ji family’s doorway. The visitor stood straight and elegant, his bearing cold yet noble.
“Uncle Ji.” Fu Jingshen stepped inside, his gaze landing on Ji Chen. After a brief pause, he greeted: “Elder Brother.”
Ji Chen: “…”
“Sit,” Ji Tianze gestured toward the sofa. “Have you eaten?”
Fu Jingshen nodded. “Yes, I have.”
Ji Chen moved toward the sofa, casting him a faint glance. “President Fu, don’t you have work? How do you have time to grace our humble home?”
Fu Jingshen smiled politely. “Visiting Madam Ji is naturally more important than work.”
Ji Chen didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Was it you who took Yingying to Huizhou?”
“I happened to be in Huizhou,” Fu Jingshen replied evenly. “By chance, I learned of her travel plans, so I stopped by the airport to pick her up.”
Ji Tianze joined them on the sofa. “Then we must thank you, Jingshen, for looking after Yingying.”
“It was my duty.”
A servant brought tea. Steam blurred Fu Jingshen’s features as he blew gently across the surface. “How is Madam Ji’s condition?”
“Just a minor fracture in her ankle,” Ji Tianze answered. “Thank you for your concern.”
Apart from a few grand banquets hosted by the Ji family, Fu Jingshen had rarely visited their home. He glanced around the room but did not see Ji Ying.
Ji Tianze noticed his intent. “Yingying is upstairs with her mother.”
Fu Jingshen lowered his eyes. “I see.” After a pause, he added: “In fact, I came today with an important matter to discuss with Uncle Ji and Elder Brother.”
Ji Tianze rubbed his thumb against his palm, feigning ignorance. “Oh?”
Fu Jingshen spoke directly: “I wish to ask for Ji Ying’s hand in marriage.”
Ji Tianze’s expression remained unchanged as he listened.
“Previously, Uncle Ji said the marriage would depend entirely on Yingying’s wishes,” Fu Jingshen continued calmly. “I am honored that she is willing to marry me.”
Just then, Ji Tianze’s phone rang. He gave Fu Jingshen a brief apologetic nod. “I’ll take this call.”
Fu Jingshen replied, “Of course.”
Ji Tianze rose to answer, leaving only Ji Chen and Fu Jingshen seated together on the sofa.
“So, when things didn’t work out with the rest of the family, you turned instead to my sister?” Ji Chen gave a short, cold laugh. “President Fu, you’ve certainly gone to great lengths.”
Fu Jingshen raised his brows slightly. With Ji Tianze absent, his tone lacked the courtesy. “And when it comes to marriage, you don’t take it seriously?”
Ji Chen: “…”
Fu Jingshen lifted his teacup and took a sip. “Ah, that’s right. I forgot—you don’t even have a girlfriend.”
Ji Chen: “…”
After a few teasing remarks, the atmosphere eased, no longer as tense as before.
Fu Jingshen dropped the banter, his tone turning earnest. “Ji Chen, I don’t know if you realize—Yinghua isn’t happy.”
Ji Chen rested his chin on his hand, watching him. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
Fu Jingshen: “In the few times I’ve been with her, she’s clearly troubled by the excessive restrictions placed on her.”
Ji Chen narrowed his eyes. “So that’s why you tempted Yingying into marrying you?”
Fu Jingshen didn’t answer directly. “I only mean that if Yinghua is with me, I’ll give her a life of freedom—within bounds. She’ll be happier than she is now.”
For a long while, Ji Chen remained silent. Just then, Ji Tianze returned from his phone call and said to Fu Jingshen: “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Fu Jingshen: “Not at all.”
Ji Tianze sat down. “As for your marriage with Yingying, I agree. But there are a few matters that must be made clear before the wedding.”
Fu Jingshen inclined his head. “Please, go ahead.”
“First, do not involve Yingying in the business interests between our families.”
“Of course.”
“Second, if the marriage suffers an intolerable betrayal, Yingying must be free to leave at any time—” Before he could finish, Fu Jingshen interrupted without hesitation: “I’ll walk away with nothing, and I’ll put it in writing.”
Ji Tianze paused, and even Ji Chen lifted his eyes toward him.
Fu Jingshen’s expression did not change. “Perhaps you’d like me to draft the document right now?”
Ji Tianze waved his hand, his tone grave. “That’s not a decision I can make for you. You must consider it carefully.”
“I understand.”
Ji Tianze gave him a long, deep look. In truth, Fu Jingshen’s parents had divorced when he was young—their marriage had been a business alliance. Afterward, both strayed, and when the partnership expired, they parted ways without hesitation, leaving the boy to be raised by his grandfather.
Fu Jingshen caught the meaning in Ji Tianze’s eyes and said: “The mistakes my parents made—I will never repeat them.”
Ji Tianze found himself unable to voice further objections. After a few seconds of silence, he said: “I know my next question may sound absurd, but since it concerns Yingying, I must be cautious.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“You once boasted to friends that my daughter was ‘ordinary.’” Ji Tianze’s gaze sharpened. “In what way is she ordinary that you would go to such lengths to seek her hand?”
Fu Jingshen paused, giving a slight cough. “You may not believe me, but when I said ‘ordinary,’ I was referring to tea.” He weighed his words carefully, considering how to explain such a rash remark, then continued: “At the time, I was at Yulinling, looking out from its wooden window. I saw Yinghua descending from the stone bridge—and in that moment, I lost my grip and overturned the teacup.”
“Oh?” Ji Tianze raised his brows. “So you mean, toward Yingying you felt…”
“Love at first sight—irresistible,” Fu Jingshen said, each word deliberate.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a sound of shattering porcelain came from the staircase.
Ji Ying stood there in a pale pink qipao, her hair pinned neatly back. The teacup she had been holding had fallen to the floor, broken into pieces. She was staring toward the sofa, her brows and eyes filled with shock that had not yet faded.