Zou Zhanyang looked concerned, holding Shen Qingyun’s hand in his large palm, offering comfort.
Zou Liye shook his head in disappointment. “Jiani, perhaps it’s better if you don’t come here anymore. It’s… inconvenient.”
Xu Jiani’s face went pale, her lips trembling. She didn’t understand why things had suddenly turned against her. Shen Qingyun was clearly at fault, yet everyone seemed to stand on the opposite side, blaming her.
Suddenly, Xu Jiani seemed to have a realization. She raised her voice, “Grandpa Zou, I’m not wrong! Shen Qingyun is two-timing. She’s supposed to marry Zhanyang-ge, yet she has another engagement with someone else. She’s not loyal to Zhanyang-ge, using him as a backup. She’s a frivolous woman!”
Zou Liye’s eyes darkened with even more disappointment. “You mean Minister Chen?”
Xu Jiani nodded instinctively, but before she could speak further, she heard Su Xiangmei shout angrily,
“Chief Zou, are you talking about that bald old man in his fifties whose wife just died, leaving three sons and a daughter?”
“That damned Shen Zhigao must have lost his mind! Minister Chen is old enough to be Qinyun’s grandfather. How dare he!”
Xu Jiani’s mind went blank.
No… it shouldn’t be like this.
Grandpa Zou looked at Xu Jiani with none of his usual kindness, his tone flat. “Jiani, you should leave. Grandpa Zou doesn’t welcome you here for the time being.”
Xu Jiani opened her mouth but said nothing, leaving silently.
Su Xiangmei had come to deliver food. After handing the items to Aunt Zhang, she left.
Zou Liye looked apologetic and said to Shen Qingyun, “I was wrong earlier. Introducing Jiani to Zhanyang was my mistake. Don’t take it to heart. This child’s heart belongs to you alone.”
Shen Qingyun smiled. “I understand. At that time, Zhanyang and I had just gotten together—you didn’t know. I can understand.”
Zou Liye smiled warmly and headed upstairs.
Shen Qingyun turned to meet Zou Zhanyang’s dissatisfied gaze. “Minister Chen? Where did that come from?”
She had mentioned it casually to Zou Liye as a joke, to prevent Shen Zhigao from causing trouble, but had forgotten to explain it to Zhanyang. Quickly, she recounted the full story.
Zhanyang’s fists clenched tightly. Shen Zhigao was asking for trouble.
Shen Qingyun hurried to soothe him. “Don’t get worked up. I still want to give him a big surprise. By the way, how’s the investigation you were looking into?”
“I’ll speed it up.”
Zhanyang strode to the phone booth and dialed. “How’s the investigation coming along?”
“The events are too far back; the evidence chain is incomplete. Still investigating, but there are some clues. Shouldn’t be many more days before it’s clear,” Lu Siyuan yawned. “I’m still on a business trip. You make me work so hard, peeling layers nobody else could.”
“Investigate quickly. Not only the past, but also this Shen Zhigao. I want everything about him thoroughly investigated.”
Lu Siyuan’s drowsiness vanished instantly. “What happened? Did he offend you?”
Zhanyang nodded once. “Quickly.”
A crescent moon hung high as the evening breeze blew.
On the way home, Zhanyang quietly took Shen Qingyun’s hand, rolling it gently in his palm.
“I’m not planning to invite Shen Zhigao and Sun Lanzhi to the wedding in three days. Would you think I’m cruel?”
Shen Qingyun spoke unexpectedly. Zhanyang was startled, thinking he’d been caught, and quickly let go. Once he understood her words, his handsome face stiffened. He took her by the shoulders, turned her to face him, and said seriously,
“Wife, whatever decision you make, I will support you unconditionally. The wedding is between you and me. Invite whoever you want. Marriage is supposed to be a joyful event—I don’t want anyone to affect your mood.”
“Besides, if it weren’t for Grandpa insisting, I wouldn’t even want to invite my father,” Zhanyang muttered quietly.
Zhanyang’s resistant expression piqued Shen Qingyun’s curiosity. “We’re about to get married, but I don’t think I’ve ever met your parents.”
“What’s there to see?”
Seeing Shen Qingyun curious, Zhanyang began to tell her about his family.
Zhanyang’s mother had died early. Not long after, his father remarried. The stepmother, Cao Cuizhen, brought a son into the family. At first, she treated Zhanyang well, but gradually her true nature emerged. She whispered in his half-brother Zou Bowen’s ear, driving a wedge between father and son. Since joining the army, Zhanyang hadn’t returned home for years.
“My dad has been caring for Cao Cuizhen and her son all these years. I’m sure he’s long forgotten me,” Zhanyang said, full of resentment.
Suddenly, he looked uneasy. “Wife, you might think I’m immature or petty. How can a son blame his parents? But I can’t get past it in my heart. My mom had just passed, and Dad remarried Cao Cuizhen, claiming it was to take care of me.”
Shen Qingyun stood on tiptoe, trying to pat his head, but being too short, she patted his shoulder instead.
She shook her head. “I don’t think that. He must have hurt you before. Your father never apologized or admitted his mistakes. Why should you forgive him?”
Zhanyang looked into her eyes, feeling as if they could contain everything. It was like a vast galaxy or a calm summer sea—no matter how much violence or unease he brought, it could be silently accepted there.
His heartbeat quickened.
In the night, his eyes seemed to hold a fire that could burn everything.
“Wife, I like you so much.”
Shen Qingyun looked up at him seriously for the first time. “These past few days, I’ve wanted to thank you. Thank you for helping me when I was in trouble, for staying with me when I was afraid, and for standing behind me when I felt lonely.”
Zhanyang was moved and slightly shy. “Wife~” He didn’t deserve this.
Shen Qingyun’s eyes shone with a smile. “So I think marrying you isn’t a bad idea.”
Zhanyang’s ears turned red, embarrassed, unable to meet her eyes.
Amused, Shen Qingyun tiptoed and covered his red ears with her hands, exaggerating, “So hot!”
Not just his ears—Zhanyang’s cheeks were now flushed. He leaned down, voice hoarse and low. “Wife, it’s hot elsewhere too. Touch it, see for yourself.”
Cao Qinqin rushed to the factory residential compound to tell Cao Cuizhen that Zhanyang was about to get married.
Cao Cuizhen was surprised. “Zhanyang is getting married? To whom?”
“To Shen Qingyun, daughter of Chief of Staff Shen.” Seeing Cao Cuizhen still confused, Cao Qinqin recounted Shen Qinghe’s words verbatim, emphasizing Shen Qingyun’s character and the story of her biological parents’ reassignment.
Cao Cuizhen’s eyes brightened. Truly, the pot matches the lid—Zhanyang was a rake, and his bride was poison.
“This is a great opportunity. Think about it: if Zhanyang marries Shen Qingyun, your uncle will surely be utterly disappointed. Then the factory will be ours, right?” Cao Qinqin’s eyes gleamed with greed.
Cao Cuizhen nodded. “I know what to do. You can go home first.”
“I’ll wait for your good news.”
Cao Qinqin grabbed a large handful of candies and biscuits from the cabinet, stuffed them in her pockets, and left happily.
Cao Cuizhen sat alone on the sofa, thinking. Soon, the door opened—Zou Bowen came home from work.
“Bowen, you’re back?” Cao Cuizhen went forward to take his briefcase and coat, placing them on the sofa. She then crouched to remove his shoes.
Zou Bowen nodded, his brows showing faint fatigue.
For years, he had followed the principle of “no talking during meals, no talking in bed.” Cao Cuizhen had long obeyed this custom. The room was silent. Only after dinner did Zou Bowen get up to go to the study, but Cao Cuizhen called out to him.
“Bowen, I have something to tell you—about Zhanyang.”
Hearing Zhanyang’s name, Zou Bowen turned to her. For the first time, his serious, stern expression carried more than just fatigue. “What is it?”
Cao Cuizhen told him about Zhanyang’s upcoming marriage and briefly explained Shen Qingyun’s background.
She wiped tears as she spoke. “He must still be upset with me. Bowen, why is he so hot-tempered? Even if he resents me, you are his father. How could he not discuss such a major marriage with the family?”
Seeing Zou Bowen frown deeply, Cao Cuizhen felt secretly pleased.
She had considered hiding the news, but if Zou Bowen found out later, he might harbor resentment. More importantly, she knew Zhanyang’s personality—stubborn and unyielding, like a stone in a latrine. Once he makes a decision, he won’t turn back.
If Zou Bowen disliked Shen Qingyun, he certainly wouldn’t approve of the marriage. With Zhanyang’s impulsive nature, adding fuel to the fire would only worsen father-son relations.
Looking at Zou Bowen’s stern face, Cao Cuizhen’s eyes gleamed.
The future of the Zou family—everything—would belong to her and her son.