Fu Hanye could not help but laugh out loud.
It really was a darkened little rabbit.
Still, it was quite interesting.
The He family could not be considered a prominent or prestigious clan in Jing City. If not for He Sheng’s father’s rise against the odds, they would have remained nothing more than ordinary townsfolk.
Thus, among the guests attending Old Master He’s seventieth birthday banquet, there were hardly any truly influential figures.
If He Sheng’s father were still alive, perhaps some people would have shown a bit of respect. Unfortunately, he was already gone, and Baichuan Group, under Fu Jingnian’s assistance, merely operated steadily without any major development.
Unless He Sheng could take up the mantle.
With ten minutes left before the banquet began, Old Master He sat in the lounge with a dark expression.
He Qingmei paced back and forth anxiously, muttering: “Why hasn’t she arrived yet? She’s not going to skip it, is she? That wretched girl—she clearly agreed, and now she’s backing out at the last moment.”
“If I had known, I should have gone to the Fu Family to pick her up!”
Old Madam He grew irritated from watching. “Qingmei, stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy.”
“Mom, I’m anxious.”
Old Master He coughed once. “What’s the use of being anxious? Whether she comes or not, this banquet must begin. We won’t wait.”
He Lang’s face fell. “If she doesn’t come, what about that order for my company?”
“What about it?” Old Master He glanced at his second son. “Too bad!”
Old Madam He quickly stood up and took her husband’s arm as they walked out of the lounge. He Lang, He Qingmei, and the others followed behind.
The group put on polite, insincere smiles as they passed through the guests and stepped onto the stage to give their speech.
Just as they were about to speak, the doors of the hall opened.
A young woman in an ink-wash qipao walked in gracefully, her fair wrist linked with that of a man who matched her perfectly.
The moment they appeared, all eyes in the hall turned toward them. Once people recognized them, whispers spread through the crowd.
“Isn’t that He Sheng, the daughter of the He family’s eldest son? She actually came today.”
“Why wouldn’t she come? She still carries the He surname.”
“Wasn’t it said that after her car accident, she had mental issues and couldn’t meet outsiders?”
“Who’s the man beside her? A new boyfriend?”
“You really have no eye for people—that’s Fu Hanye of the Fu Family. He’s been in the news.”
…
She had arrived, but Old Master He did not look any happier. Instead, He Lang and He Qingmei went forward to greet her.
“Ah Sheng, it’s been a long time. You’ve grown even more beautiful.“ He Lang said. Unlike his late elder brother, He Lang had a slick tongue, a cunning nature, narrow vision, and a fondness for petty gains.
He Lang had once tried to support his younger brother, but the latter was useless, managing only to run a small company that earned modest profits.
He Lang did not think himself incompetent. In his mind, it was his elder brother who had refused to help. Otherwise, why would he only be given small projects each year? If he had been made vice president of Baichuan Group, he was certain he could have achieved great things.
However, neither He Lang nor Old Master He agreed with such thinking.
Having seen true excellence before, Old Master He judged He Lang fairly and knew he was not suited for major responsibilities.
Yet, he held an excessive bias toward He Kun, believing his eldest grandson to be exceptional, merely held back by insufficient resources from He Lang.
“Ah Sheng, come, your little aunt will guide you. Your grandfather has been talking about you constantly. Hurry and wish him a happy birthday.”
He Qingmei smiled warmly, perfectly playing the role of a kind elder. No one would have imagined how, back in the hospital, she had shrieked curses and even grabbed He Sheng by the throat, wishing for her death.
He Sheng avoided her outstretched hand and made a gesture indicating it was unnecessary.
Wish him a happy birthday? She had come to ruin the occasion.
He Sheng slightly turned her head, signaling Uncle Zhou and the others to bring the gift forward.
It was an object half the height of a person, covered in red velvet—imposing enough to command attention.
At the sight of it, Old Master He’s cold expression softened slightly, and he gave a faint, self-satisfied snort.
So she finally understood how difficult it was to live under someone else’s roof and was willing to draw closer to her own family?
Still, she lacked sense. If she came, she came—why bring along the Fu Family’s young master?
“Ah Sheng, your presence alone makes the old master happy, and yet you’ve brought such a large gift. How filial!” He Lang clapped his hands, pretending to be pleased while inwardly scoffing.
Just like her father—always showing off, always putting on airs.
Timing her arrival so precisely and presenting the gift in front of everyone—wasn’t it just to gain a reputation for filial piety?
Standing beside Old Master He, He Kun curled his lip in disdain. If his uncle had handed Baichuan Group to him, then today, the one presenting a grand gift and drawing attention would have been him—not some blind and mute little girl.
He Qingmei’s eyes flickered as her tone grew even gentler. “Ah Sheng, with a gift like this, you’ve outshone all of us.”
The fact that she had put thought into selecting a birthday gift meant she was willing to reconnect with the He family.
Over the past year, He Qingmei had reflected as well. Back then, they had pushed too hard. If they had been more patient and proceeded step by step, everything in He Sheng’s hands would have eventually become theirs.
But there was still time.
Fu Hanye watched this room full of Oscar-worthy actors and actresses and could not help but laugh again.
Hearing his mocking laughter, He Sheng curved her lips as well.
Uncle Zhou placed the gift on the stage and led the others away. With the atmosphere of the banquet reaching its peak, the guests below stretched their necks, eager to see what He Sheng had brought.
The He family was smiling. He Sheng and Fu Hanye were also smiling.
Amid the seemingly warm and harmonious atmosphere, Old Master He lifted his chin proudly and, with great flourish, pulled away the velvet cloth.
—A vintage grandfather clock stood before everyone.
Its reddish-brown casing, white dial, and brass pendulum gleamed as the hands ticked steadily forward, landing precisely on twelve.
At that exact moment, the pendulum chimed, and in the silent hall, it rang out softly—seven clear strikes.
Listening to the melodious chime, He Sheng felt her mood brighten immensely.
How perfect.
It had been timed exactly right.