Lunch was served at Old Mrs. Jiang’s place, and there were still over ten minutes left after the meal.
Knowing that the young couple must have things to say before parting, the old lady tactfully mentioned that she still had some luggage to pack and asked Jiang Congli to keep Shu Yi company.
“I’ll go back to handle company matters and will return soon.”
“Focus on your work, don’t worry about me. No one here will bully me, so rest assured.”
“How could I not worry about you?” Jiang Congli said softly.
Jiang Congli simply didn’t want to waste any time with Pei Shuyi and wished to hear her voice a little longer before leaving.
So he casually brought up a topic: “Next time you come, do you want jujube paste pastries?”
“Yes.”
“Osmanthus cakes?”
“Yes.”
“Egg tarts?”
“Yes.”
“What about Jiang Congli?”
Pei Shuyi almost blurted out “yes,” but she managed to twist the word into a convoluted mess in her mouth.
What a cunning old fox.
Pei Shuyi raised her hand, tugged at the collar of Jiang Congli’s overcoat, brought her lips close to his ear, and deliberately said, “Jiang Congli doesn’t need me to want him because you’re already mine now.”
Hearing this answer, Jiang Congli finally smiled with satisfaction.
…
Twelve o’clock.
Old Mrs. Jiang emerged from the inner room, having changed into outdoor attire, her silver hair meticulously combed.
Jiang Congli released Pei Shuyi, took the luggage from the old lady’s hands, and the three of them walked out of the east wing.
Aunt He was also waiting at the courtyard gate of the east wing. Since cars couldn’t enter the temple grounds, they walked to the temple entrance.
After about ten minutes, they arrived.
Before leaving, Old Mrs. Jiang took Pei Shuyi’s hand and patted it gently. “Shu girl, Granny is leaving. If you ever come to Hong Kong, don’t hesitate to visit me.”
Pei Shuyi nodded. “Take care on your journey, Granny.”
Meanwhile, Jiang Congli placed the suitcase in the trunk and turned around.
Pei Shuyi stood at the temple entrance, the wind tousling her hair.
He walked up to her, looking down at her.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said.
Pei Shuyi nodded, signaling him to hurry, or he might miss his flight.
Jiang Congli gazed at Pei Shuyi and finally couldn’t resist leaning down, placing a restrained, gentle kiss at the corner of her lips before turning to get into the car.
Once the old lady was in the car, she didn’t look back. The driver kept his eyes on the road ahead, while Aunt He turned to look at the ginkgo tree in the temple courtyard.
The understated luxury car wound its way down the mountain road and eventually disappeared around a bend.
The car was quiet.
Old Mrs. Jiang leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed, while Jiang Congli sat in the passenger seat.
Patches of lingering snow lined the mountain road, glistening brightly under the sunlight.
“Congli,” the old lady suddenly spoke.
“Did you forget something, Grandmother?” Jiang Congli turned slightly.
“No.” Old Mrs. Jiang shook her head. “The third branch called me this morning and said you’ve confined Shuman to the old mansion?”
Jiang Congli didn’t deny it. “That’s correct.”
Old Mrs. Jiang and the late Old Master had two sons: the eldest, Jiang Boyong, and the second, Jiang Zhongping.
The second son lived abroad year-round, only returning during holidays.
As for the eldest, Jiang Boyong, while his business acumen was undeniable, he had been a philanderer in his youth and ended up marrying three wives.
The first wife, Zhuang Yunzhi, had already passed away, leaving behind only one son.
The second wife, Song Wanning, came from a prestigious family and was the birth mother of Jiang Shutong and Jiang Congli.
The third wife, He Zhiwan, also came from a prominent background, being from the He family, another powerful clan in Hong Kong City that rivaled the Jiang family in influence.
Combined, the several wives had given Jiang Boyong five or six children.
Within this large third-generation family, just figuring out who was whose mother was enough to give outsiders a headache.
The Jiang Shuman mentioned by the old madam was the daughter of the third wife, He Zhiwan, and ranked fifth among the siblings.
She was quite skilled at acting, having won a Best Actress award, appearing glamorous in public but privately dating more actively than anyone else.
Whether she was photographed at nightclubs or caught at the entrance of male model clubs, it was usually Jiang Congli, the head of the family, who had to clean up her mess.
The old madam sighed whenever she mentioned her—Jiang Shuman was the most troublesome among the third generation.
“What happened this time?” the old madam asked.
Jiang Congli handed her his phone.
On the screen was a screenshot of a news article that had already been suppressed, featuring a photo of Jiang Shuman leaving a male model club in Night City two days earlier, flanked by two young men.
The old madam glanced at it and returned the phone. “It’s been suppressed?”
“Yes.”
“Who helped?” the old madam inquired.
Jiang Congli was in Beijing, and no matter how well-connected he was, he couldn’t have suppressed the news so quickly from there.
Moreover, this was Night City, no less influential than Hong Kong City.
“Someone from the Pei family in Beijing—Pei Yanxiao.”
Old Mrs. Jiang was surprised. “Why would he help?”
“My brother-in-law has a partnership with him. He happened to be in Night City and took care of it as a favor.”
The brother-in-law Jiang Congli referred to was He Jisheng, the husband of his full sister, Jiang Shutong.
Speaking of Jiang Shutong, this was another matter that left the old madam with mixed feelings.
Like Jiang Congli, Jiang Shutong was also born to the second wife, ranking second among the Jiang family’s third generation, while Jiang Congli ranked third.
Two years ago, Jiang Shutong suddenly announced she was going abroad to study. When she returned to Hong Kong City, she brought back a little boy with her.
At first, she refused to reveal who the child’s father was. It wasn’t until six months ago that the Jiang family learned the child was He Jisheng’s.
He Jisheng, the head of the He family in Hong Kong City.
If nothing else were considered, this would have been a perfect marriage—a union between the Jiang and He families, two of the four major clans in Hong Kong City, both equally powerful and influential.
But the problem was that the third wife, He Zhiwan, was He Jisheng’s paternal aunt.
In other words, Jiang Shutong’s stepmother was He Jisheng’s aunt. While there was no direct blood relation, this connection was undeniable and impossible to ignore.
The marriage between He Jisheng and Jiang Shutong, with all these messy ties in the background, was ultimately something that couldn’t be openly acknowledged.
If the media in Hong Kong City found out, there was no telling how they would spin the story to criticize both families.
What frustrated the old madam even more was that not only had the two already had a child together, but they had also secretly married a year ago without informing either side’s elders.
Thinking of this, the old madam shook her head helplessly.
Among the third generation, aside from the eldest, Jiang Congye, and the third, Jiang Congli, none of the others were easy to handle.
Ultimately, it all came down to blaming her eldest son, Jiang Boyong, for his philandering ways in his youth and marrying three wives.
It was nothing short of a disgrace to the family’s reputation!
After a moment, the old madam collected her thoughts and said to Jiang Congli, “When we return to Hong Kong City, we must find an opportunity to invite him for a meal. Also, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Shutong. Tell her to bring Niannian to the old house more often when she has time.”
“Rest assured, Grandmother. He Jisheng mentioned that in a couple of days, Pei Yanxiao will bring his fiancée to Hong Kong to discuss a collaboration. I will personally go there then to thank him face-to-face.”
Old Mrs. Jiang nodded in satisfaction upon hearing this.