Lin Qingqing did not notice the change in Xie Xinhang’s expression and asked Li Yang,
“Then are you feeling unwell at all? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Li Yang shook her head. She did not feel unwell.
There were, however, quite a lot of hickeys.
Xie Xinhang spoke up at the right moment.
“The top floor of Wanhe Mansion only has one presidential suite permanently reserved. The other rooms are available on a first-come, first-served basis, and guest records aren’t kept. Do you remember which room it was?”
Li Yang raised her eyes.
“I don’t remember.”
At the time, she had been terribly drunk. She only remembered the long corridor and the soft carpet beneath her feet. Supporting herself against the wall, she had counted the rooms one by one, believing that the door she pushed open was her own.
Xie Xinhang did not ask further.
Lin Qingqing looked at him, then at Li Yang.
“Xinhang, doesn’t your Third Uncle live there most of the time? Wanhe is also a hotel under Xie Corporation. Why don’t you help ask around?”
Li Yang looked up.
“No need to trouble Mr. Xie. A place like that definitely has strict surveillance. Any information they can find won’t be leaked out. Besides…”
She carefully considered her wording.
“Besides, I was the one who went into the wrong room. That man didn’t force me either. Let’s just pretend nothing happened.”
Asking Xie Zongxu to deal with such a trivial matter for her was really…
The name Xie Zongxu was known by everyone in Capital City.
Xie Xinhang had never mentioned this Third Uncle in front of her, and Lin Qingqing had only vaguely heard that the older generation’s businesses of the Xie Family had encountered some turbulence years ago.
In the end, it had been Xie Zongxu, ranked third among his generation, who took over.
And once he took over, he remained in control for ten years.
Now, Xie Zongxu had long since secured his position as chairman and become the new generation’s leader of the Xie Family.
Whenever people encountered problems they could not solve, those influential figures who normally laughed and chatted with ease would seek intermediaries to pass messages to Xie Zongxu.
“Could we invite Third Master Xie to honor us with a meal?”
The reason Xie Xinhang called him “Third Uncle” was simply because that was how he appeared in the family genealogy.
Outside the family, no one dared address him that way.
The Xie Residence had occupied a place within Capital City’s Second Ring for three hundred years.
Its walls retained the gray color of the Ming Dynasty, while layers upon layers of ivy covered them, turning the entire eastern wall of the alley into a cascading green waterfall.
Those unaware of its history merely assumed it belonged to an old family unwilling to relocate.
Those who knew the truth understood that from the Ming Dynasty to the Qing Dynasty, from the Republic of China to the present day, the residence had always belonged to the Xie family.
An extended Maybach Pullman stopped briefly at the entrance of the alley.
The driver turned the wheel three times, easing the vehicle inward inch by inch, the body nearly scraping against the wall.
When Xie Zongxu got out, he did not wait for anyone to open the door for him.
A servant was already waiting beneath the entrance and accepted the thin wool overcoat from his hands.
Today, he wore a smoke-gray double-breasted peaked-lapel suit.
An old tailor from London had personally flown to Beijing to take his measurements, prepare samples, and make alterations.
That tailor’s grandfather had once made formalwear for Xie Zongxu’s great-grandfather.
The tradition had continued to his generation.
The measurements of three generations of Xie Family men were preserved in sealed kraft-paper files, with wrist circumferences recorded to the nearest half inch and waistlines tailored more aggressively than any luxury bespoke brand.
Such a cut could not be found on the market.
Nor could it be purchased.
Xie Zongxu loosened his tie, pulling it open by two inches.
After changing into slippers, he walked inside.
The sound of a television flooded out from the main hall.
A woman’s shrill voice and a man’s hoarse voice filled the room from every direction.
His steps paused briefly, and his brows knitted together slightly.
His mother, Eldest Miss Yang, was watching another drama about divorce, bitter arguments, and custody battles.
Yang Lingyun, Madam Xie, sat cross-legged on the sofa in the living room.
A thin blanket rested across her knees while her eyes remained fixed on the screen.
She was fifty-seven this year, yet her skin was unbelievably smooth.
She had maintained herself exceptionally well.
Xie Zongxu sat in the chair beside her, one elbow resting on the armrest, and spoke leisurely.
“Mom, turn the volume down a little.”
Yang Lingyun acted as though she had heard nothing.
She did not even spare him a glance.
Within the Xie Family, Madam Xie’s words carried absolute authority.
Her two children—her eldest son who had taken over the family enterprise and her daughter who was still studying—were both individuals whose words carried unquestioned weight outside.
Yet once they returned to this residence and stood before her, they all behaved themselves.
It was not fear.
It was respect.
After all, when they were young, if either of them ever spoke to Eldest Miss Yang with the slightest disrespect—
Xie Chengsi, the former Chairman Xie, who was stern and unsmiling in public yet completely obedient at home, could make Xie Zongxu and Xie Baozhu kneel on prayer cushions in the ancestral hall for six full hours.
Without speaking, Xie Zongxu leaned forward and picked up the remote control from the coffee table.
His thumb pressed a button.
The image remained.
The sound disappeared.
He placed the remote back where it belonged and casually took a red pomelo from the fruit tray.
His fingernail dug into the thick peel as he stripped it away layer by layer.
The peel fell onto his lap.
The white pith was thick, and a fresh fragrance spread through the air.
Only then did Yang Lingyun react.
She slapped the remote onto the coffee table.
The sound was not loud, but the force behind it was unmistakable.
“Xie Zongxu, are you trying to start a rebellion?”
Xie Zongxu separated a segment of pomelo and placed it into his mouth.
The juice burst across his tongue, bitter at first before turning sweet.
Keeping his eyes lowered, he wiped away the juice on his fingertips with his thumb and replied at an unhurried pace.
“Don’t be angry, Eldest Miss Yang. My eardrums were getting shaken apart. Please bear with me.”
He rolled up his sleeves twice, revealing a lean yet powerful forearm.
One elbow rested on his leg.
Yet his shoulders and back remained relaxed as he sank comfortably into the curve of the chair.
He appeared lazy and noble at the same time.
He was completely different from the meticulous President Xie who had sat at the negotiating table only an hour earlier.
Seeing her eldest son acting like this, the irritation in Yang Lingyun’s chest surged upward.
“Stop putting on an act. The moment your father isn’t around, you start throwing your weight around. Let me tell you, your good days—”
“Are almost over.”
Xie Zongxu finished the sentence for her.
“You said that last month too. On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, before dinner…”
“Shut your mouth.”
Yang Lingyun grabbed an embroidery hoop and pretended she was about to throw it.
In the end, she could not bear to do so and merely clutched it tightly while glaring at him.
“Your father is coming back tonight to announce something. You’d better think carefully.”
Xie Zongxu did not respond.
He simply pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned his hands.
One finger at a time.
His fingers were long, his nails neatly trimmed, and there was not the slightest wrinkle around his knuckles.
He folded the used wet wipe into a neat square and placed it beside the fruit tray.
“No need to think.”
He said,
“At most, it’s another marriage alliance. The Zhang family, the Li family, or the Wang family. Which family’s daughter am I being matched with this time? You and Father should worry less about these matters and watch a few more dramas instead.”
Yang Lingyun was just about to lose her temper when footsteps sounded from the direction of the entrance hall.
Her eyes immediately brightened.
Rising to her feet, she hurried forward in a few quick steps and naturally slipped her arm into her husband’s.
Tilting her face upward, she spoke with a trace of grievance in her voice.
“Chengsi, you’re finally back. Your son turned off my television again. I was only watching for a little while. It was the eight o’clock drama. I finally found one worth watching, and the moment he came in, he grabbed the remote without saying a word.
“I scolded him a little, and he told me to bear with it. Look at the wonderful son you’ve raised.”
Xie Chengsi did not look at his son.
He lowered his gaze to his wife for a moment before slowly shifting his attention to Xie Zongxu.
Xie Zongxu had already stood up.
His posture was straight and upright.
The laziness from moments ago had completely vanished, replaced by another demeanor altogether.
Respectful.
Gentle.
Flawless.
“Dad.”
He inclined his head and prepared to head toward the staircase.
Only after his son had taken two steps did Xie Chengsi speak.
“Wait a moment. Come here.”
Xie Zongxu stopped.
“There is something I need to ask you face-to-face.”