Jiang Zhaoting raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Jiang Shanhuan let out a smug little laugh, looking as if she'd caught him red-handed, and squeezed past him into his room.
She glanced around and felt that his room suited him perfectly.
Several abstract art pieces hung on the walls, though the one in the middle stood out starkly from the others, and Jiang Shanhuan found it oddly familiar.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling window sat a desk and chair, with a stack of documents and a globe resting on top.
Tsk, tsk—big brother really is a workaholic. Even at home, he can't stop working. Jiang Shanhuan silently applauded him.
Then her attention was drawn to the wall of books behind the desk—the shelves were packed densely with all kinds of business and finance books.
"Whoa~" Jiang Shanhuan exclaimed. "Big brother really is well-read."
Jiang Zhaoting had no idea what she was up to. Suppressing the urge to kick her out, he closed the door and stood by it, watching her.
After her admiration, she walked over to the bed and eyed the perfectly neat, wrinkle-free sheets. She raised an eyebrow. "Big brother, your room fits my stereotype of a cold CEO perfectly."
Jiang Zhaoting crossed his arms and said coldly, "Did you come all the way here just to critique my room?"
"Uh… that's just a side note, side note." Jiang Shanhuan gave an awkward smile, then quickly turned serious.
She walked up to Jiang Zhaoting, tilted her head to look up at him, and squinted slightly. "Big brother, you lied to Mom and Dad."
Jiang Zhaoting looked down at her. "So what?"
With that, he walked past her, sat down on the sofa, and picked up a tablet to look at something.
"You clearly want to partner with the Gordon Group, so why did you tell Mom and Dad you didn't, and even said it was their fault?" Jiang Shanhuan cut straight to the point, then looked at him with eager, pleading eyes.
Jiang Zhaoting tapped on the tablet without lifting his head. "What, do you want me to go expose you to Mom and Dad?"
"I…" Of course not.
"Mom's health isn't good. She can't take shocks," Jiang Zhaoting added, by way of explanation.
Jiang Shanhuan understood. "So that's how it is."
"But bro, you're really a good person."
Jiang Shanhuan wished she could hand Jiang Zhaoting a "good person" card every single moment.
Although Jiang Zhaoting was cold and sharp-tongued, he always put his family in a place of utmost importance, which made her want to grow closer to him.
"Keep your good person card. I told you, this is the last time."
Thud—the towering image of Jiang Zhaoting that had just been built up in Jiang Shanhuan's heart came crashing down.
But Jiang Shanhuan's greatest strength was playing the fool. She sidled up to him, servilely refilling his teacup. "Big brother, why can't you understand my heart?"
"I genuinely think you're a great person."
Jiang Zhaoting: "Heh."
"You think I'm a great person, so you bribed the driver to put an aphrodisiac in the car's air freshener, planning to take compromising photos of me?"
What?! The original body had done something that shameless?
Where are the photos? Hand them over right now!
"Hmph."
Jiang Zhaoting's cold snort snapped Jiang Shanhuan back to reality. She realized that since the two of them could still face each other and talk, the whole nude-photo scheme must have failed.
"Well… in the end, you found out anyway." Jiang Shanhuan lowered her head guiltily. "Good thing big brother caught it in time, so I could pull back from the brink and turn over a new leaf."
She was getting more and more skilled at this—apologizing while slipping in a bit of flattery at the same time.
Tsk, tsk. Humans really were creatures that adapted to their environment. In just two days, she'd become this sycophantic, with none of the unyielding spirit she'd had in her past life when she'd fought for seven days and seven nights straight in the war zone.
"Enough with the flattery." Jiang Zhaoting shot her a cold glance. "Anything else?"
Jiang Shanhuan shook her head.
"The door's over there." Jiang Zhaoting was dismissing her.
Jiang Shanhuan knew when to take a hint and made to leave promptly.
But just as she reached the door, she was called back. "Wait."
Jiang Shanhuan turned around, puzzled, and saw Jiang Zhaoting speaking without lifting his head. "Mom said she's throwing you a banquet tomorrow."
Jiang Shanhuan: "A banquet?"
"To celebrate my meteoric rise to fame?"
Jiang Zhaoting: "…"
"Did you forget what I said this morning that quickly?" Jiang Zhaoting raised his eyelids to look at her.
"Ah—well, hahaha, how could I." Jiang Shanhuan flashed a fake grin. "I was just joking with you."
"I understand. I understand."
"Remember to close the door." Jiang Zhaoting dismissed her again.
Jiang Shanhuan shrugged, silently cursing Jiang Zhaoting with a voodoo doll in her mind.
As she was about to reach the door, something suddenly occurred to her, and she looked up at the painting on the wall signed "Xiao Shan."
The painting depicted a young girl in the mud. The ground around her was filthy and muddy, but her pure white dress was spotless, with only seven mud spots on her cheeks.
"Brother, you like 'Xiao Shan'?"
Jiang Zhaoting looked up, his gaze also landing on the painting, a look of something like fascination and admiration flickering in his eyes.
"I think this painting is pretty mediocre—the mud spots aren't even painted well."
Jiang Zhaoting didn't get angry at her impertinence, but simply remained silent.
He seemed to have no desire to speak. Jiang Shanhuan shrugged and prepared to leave.
But just as her hand touched the door handle, a voice came from behind her. "The details may not be great, and the brushwork is a bit immature, but there's killing intent in that girl's eyes."
"And what's around her isn't mud—it's blood."
Jiang Shanhuan's hand froze, and her heart began to pound violently. No one had ever interpreted the painting that way before.
She didn't dare turn around, afraid Jiang Zhaoting would notice something off about her.
It took her a while to steady her emotions. "So bloody and violent. Then why would you hang it in your bedroom? Aren't you afraid of being scared?" she said, feigning nonchalance.
"You think I'm like you?"
Jiang Shanhuan: "…"
This mouth of his—it was really something.
"So you know 'Xiao Shan' too? Wouldn't have guessed."
Mocking me again!
Don't think she didn't catch it—his tone clearly implied, "What standing do you have to be worthy of knowing 'Xiao Shan'?"
Jiang Shanhuan clenched her fists, the brief stirring in her heart from moments ago completely gone.
"There are plenty of things you wouldn't have guessed about me. What's so surprising about knowing her?" Jiang Shanhuan said through gritted teeth. "You're not the only one who's well-versed in everything."
She'd just been thinking that if he really liked it, she'd give him a better one in the future.
Now, hmph!
Dream on!
The banquet Tong Wanqiu had arranged for her was in the evening, at the villa halfway up the mountain on the Jiang estate.
In the afternoon, the stylist came to the door.
Following Tong Wanqiu's instructions, they dressed Jiang Shanhuan up to be as princess-like as possible.
In Tong Wanqiu's own words: "We need to make sure everyone knows that Huanhuan is still the little princess of the Jiang family."
After a grueling three hours, they finally reached the final step.
Tong Wanqiu sat on the sofa to review the results as Jiang Shanhuan, wearing a crown, descended slowly while holding the railing.
The short, off-the-shoulder light blue dress hugged her slender waist, and the skirt adorned with sparkling diamonds was especially eye-catching under the lights.
Tong Wanqiu's eyes lit up, and she finally settled on this outfit.
Just then, footsteps sounded from the entrance.
Tong Wanqiu turned to look and said with a smile, "The eldest is back. Go change into your formal wear quickly—you'll be attending with Huanhuan later."
Jiang Zhaoting nodded, and the next moment his gaze met Jiang Shanhuan's.
"Brother, do I look good?" Jiang Shanhuan blinked at Jiang Zhaoting.
To be honest, Jiang Zhaoting was momentarily captivated. He had to admit that across the entire capital city, Jiang Shanhuan's face was a masterpiece worthy of the goddess Nüwa herself.
Jiang Zhaoting: "Not bad, but…" He hesitated, as if holding something back.
Just then, Tong Wanqiu went off with the stylist to pick out earrings, and Jiang Shanhuan walked over to Jiang Zhaoting in her high heels. "But what?"
"Tao Zhuolin will be coming later too."
Jiang Shanhuan: "So what?"
What connection did the two have?
"Tao Zhuolin hates it most when you wear short skirts. In the past, whenever he was around, you never wore one."
"Huh? Who does he think he is? Since when does he get a say in what I wear?"