Shen Zhiyin’s expression shifted. “What do you mean by that? My brother is the culprit?”
Song Man lowered her gaze, her tone calm and steady. “I’m only stating the facts.”
Shen Zhiyin retorted, “Who knows if you’re lying or not? Besides, your eyes were covered—how can you be so sure you didn’t misidentify the scent?”
Song Man shook her head. “I definitely didn’t misidentify it.”
Shen Zhiyin laughed in disbelief. “What are you, a dog? With such a keen nose! Just because you say you didn’t misidentify it, does that make it true?”
Those words were too harsh. Everyone present furrowed their brows.
Unaware of the reaction, Shen Zhiyin continued excitedly, “In that case, I say my brother is innocent, so he is! Song Man, just because you’ve suffered misfortune doesn’t mean you should drag others down with you—”
Ruan Wenhua finally couldn’t hold back. “Enough! Man’er didn’t mean anything by it. Besides, everyone here today, apart from your brother’s group, are indeed familiar regulars!”
Shen Zhiyin faltered, then looked at Song Junyan with a pitiful, aggrieved expression.
Song Man watched as Song Junyan turned his head and gave Shen Zhiyin a small smile—one that seemed both reassuring and coaxing.
Only then did he turn back and say, “The Song and Shen families are bound by marriage. Zhiyin was just anxious to explain, afraid that misunderstandings might affect the relationship between our two families.”
Those words reminded Ruan Wenhua of the situation.
Shen Zhiyin was the second daughter-in-law that the old master had approved of.
And Song Junyan, illegitimate son or not, still shared the title of “brother” with Song Lianming.
They couldn’t afford to lose face in public or become a laughingstock.
But Song Man’s heart churned with bitterness.
She knew their relationship had already fractured.
She could accept his coldness toward her, his disregard for their feelings.
But this matter was serious—it concerned her reputation and the Song family’s name. He absolutely should not be showing such blatant partiality toward Shen Zhiyin.
Song Man raised her head, her gaze resolute. “I’m not lying! And I definitely didn’t misidentify the scent. Miss Shen, since you believe your brother is innocent, why not have him come over and we can confront each other!”
“You—!”
Shen Zhiyin had just opened her mouth when someone knocked on the door.
The manager went to open it.
Everyone in the room looked up.
The person who walked in was none other than the very subject of the argument: Shen Maoheng.
Everyone was taken aback.
Shen Zhiyin was the first to rush forward. “Brother, why are you here?”
“I…” Shen Maoheng glanced at Song Junyan, then gave an awkward smile. “What’s going on here? Am I not allowed to come?”
Ruan Wenhua had always detested smooth-talkers, and combined with the conversation just now, she had no good expression for Shen Maoheng.
She cut straight to the point. “Where were you just now?”
Shen Maoheng paused, not even having time to speak before Shen Zhiyin immediately interjected, “Brother, didn’t you just tell me you went to discuss a business deal with them?”
The cover-up was blatantly obvious.
Ruan Wenhua felt a lump stuck in her throat.
Shen Maoheng seemed to catch on as well, nodding repeatedly with a smile. “That’s right, and I took the opportunity to show them around the Peach Blossom Spring.”
If the previous statement had nearly choked her, this one was like an AED that instantly revived her.
The Peach Blossom Spring was divided into inner and outer sections.
The inner section was the current tea lounge and the private rooms from earlier—all highly private venues.
The outer section was the golf course, rockeries, and bamboo groves several li away—a round trip that would take nearly half an hour even by sightseeing cart.
There wasn’t enough time to tour the outer section.
And the inner section wasn’t a place for tours.
Ruan Wenhua raised an eyebrow. “A tour? Where?”
Beside her, Shen Zhiyin tried to speak.
Ruan Wenhua’s gaze swept over. “I’m talking to your brother! Miss Shen.”
She’d even resorted to calling her “Miss Shen.”
Clearly, Ruan Wenhua’s patience had run out.
Shen Zhiyin fell silent, not daring to speak again.
Ruan Wenhua turned back to Shen Maoheng with a smile. “Oh, look at me—I forgot to offer you a seat.”
Shen Maoheng had witnessed the tense standoff just now. Ruan Wenhua’s current smile was like that of a smiling fox, and he couldn’t help but be on high alert.
He sat down on the sofa as instructed, but his body was as taut as a drawn bowstring.
Ruan Wenhua shot Song Man a look.
Song Man understood immediately. She rose, poured tea, and handed it to Shen Maoheng. “Mr. Shen, have some tea.”
Shen Maoheng accepted it nervously. “Th—thank you…”
Song Man suddenly asked, “Where were you just now?”
Caught off guard, Shen Maoheng answered without thinking. “Lan Yu.”
The evidence was conclusive!
What a family, the Shens!
They put on a proper facade, but underneath they were full of dirty tricks—actually daring to scheme so foully against Man’er. Did they think she was dead?!
Ruan Wenhua was furious, about to slam the table and rise, when “Sister-in-law,” Song Junyan spoke up.
Everyone’s attention turned to him.
Song Man looked at him too.
His face remained as calm and unruffled as ever. “I was with him the whole time just now. We never came here. He misremembered the name of the place.”
Everyone employed at the Peach Blossom Spring was sharp, and those who’d climbed to the rank of manager were the sharpest of the sharp.
The manager immediately put on a slick smile. “Now that Young Master Song mentions it, I remember too—I did see the two of you heading toward the Rhyme Bamboo Grove earlier.”
A phrase instantly surfaced in Ruan Wenhua’s mind: “aiding the evil.”
Song Man could hardly believe her ears. She stared at Song Junyan in disbelief.
Things had come to this point!
And Song Junyan was still willing to give false testimony for Shen Maoheng.
How long had he even known Shen Zhiyin? Were they already so close that she was worth this level of partiality?
Shen Zhiyin hadn’t expected Song Junyan to say such a thing.
In her plan, this was the perfect opportunity—Song Man would lose her innocence, Song Junyan would be disgusted by her, despise her, and hopefully come to loathe her entirely.
She hadn’t expected two “wreckers” to barge in out of nowhere.
Hua Jiale had appeared far too quickly.
Nor had she expected Song Junyan to actually cover for her!
The more Shen Zhiyin savored this, the sweeter it felt in her heart. She shifted her body, blocking Song Man’s lingering gaze toward Song Junyan.
“Song Man, you said he was my brother, but my brother was clearly walking with Junyan just now.” She smiled again. “I do understand you—after all, whoever this happens to would panic. But in the future, you should still remember one phrase: ‘Seeing is believing.'”
Her words carried the smugness of a petty person who’d gotten the upper hand.
Too humiliating!
Song Man clenched her fists, silent.
She couldn’t refute it—refuting would mean admitting Song Junyan was giving false testimony, which would affect the Song family.
Besides, refuting was useless.
A foster daughter of the Song family versus the second young master of the Song family.
Which one mattered more was obvious.
Ruan Wenhua was also weighing things, seemingly considering something. In the end, she took a step back and looked at Hua Jiale. “Before you saw Man’er, did you hear anything unusual?”
The question was as casual as asking about today’s weather—nothing worth asking.
But asking it, at this very moment, was worth pondering deeply.
Hua Jiale understood almost instantly. He said, “No unusual sounds. I just wasn’t at ease about Man’er, so I went out and saw her had fallen.”
Mrs. Hua’s heart jolted. “Jiale—”
She had meant to caution him to think twice, but when her gaze met Hua Jiale’s eyes—calm, resolute—
Mrs. Hua had no choice either. She let out a breath and fell silent.
Ruan Wenhua looked at Song Man, half persuading, half commanding: “Man’er, you too. You got confused from playing mahjong, tripped and fell on your own, and mistook it for someone trying to abduct you?”
Song Man understood Ruan Wenhua’s meaning.
She wanted to brush the matter aside lightly.
If nothing happened, the Song family’s dignity remained intact, and Song Junyan’s words would still hold true.
Everyone could keep their composure.
As for herself—getting a little hurt, taking a little loss, was nothing major.
Song Man’s breathing grew rapid, and for a long moment, she didn’t respond.
Song Junyan spoke up then: “Man’er, is that what your mother said?”
He was forcing her to answer!