As the car door clicked open, the soft hum of the mansion's fountains and wind-touched leaves greeted her. Zhiqing stepped out, composed but weary, her jacket still reeking faintly of the egg attack she'd received earlier.
The moment her heels touched the driveway, the housekeeper came rushing with the warmth of someone who had waited far too long.
"Missy, finally you came back," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she carefully took the stained jacket from Zhiqing's arms. "How dare those Viel creature fans do this to you? You should drag them to court! Let Master and Young Master teach them a lesson."
Zhiqing smiled faintly—not the usual smirk, but something softer, touched by the comfort of familiarity.
"They're just pawns, Aunt Mei," she said calmly. "The real game is still ahead."
The housekeeper looked like she wanted to say more but held her tongue, eyes shining with relief. She guided Zhiqing toward the grand double doors of the Jiang residence—doors that once seemed locked forever behind the pride and pain of her past.
As Zhiqing and Aunt Mei stepped into the mansion, the warmth inside clashed with the cold quiet of the early morning. Despite the time—just past 4 AM—the entire main hall was fully lit, as though waiting for someone.
And waiting they were.
Standing at the top of the steps, dressed in elegant nightwear, were her parents—both mothers and Papa Jiang.
Zhiqing's steps slowed.
Her gaze fell first on Mom 1, Wei Xiaozing—her gentle, ever-soft mother. Tears clung to the corners of her reddened eyes, and her lips trembled ever so slightly, though she didn't speak. She looked like she was afraid that if she did, she might shatter.
Then her eyes shifted to Mom 2, Wei Xiaoying, whose arms were crossed, face taut with restrained emotion. Her sharp eyes assessed Zhiqing, flicking briefly to the ruined jacket Aunt Mei held in her hands.
Finally, there was Papa Jiang. Broad-shouldered, stern-faced as always, his brows furrowed in that familiar look of authority mixed with… fatigue. He looked older. And yet—beneath the weight of his expression, there was something else. A flicker of emotion he rarely wore.
They said nothing.
But the air was thick.
It wasn't silence—it was a pause between storms, where everything unsaid throbbed in the room like a second heartbeat.
Zhiqing stood still at the base of the steps, chin lifted. "You waited up for me?"
Wei Xiaozing gave a soft sob, nodding.
Wei Xiaoying didn't move, her voice cool: "We never stopped waiting."
Papa Jiang said nothing—but his grip on the stair railing tightened just enough to speak volumes.
Papa Jiang cleared his throat.
His voice, deep and steady, cut through the emotion-laden air like a blade. "Zhiqing. Come with me. To the study."
Not a request. A command.
Zhiqing didn't flinch, but her back straightened. For a heartbeat, she looked at her mothers—Wei Xiaozing's eyes widened with concern, while Wei Xiaoying simply gave the smallest nod, the kind that said, Face it head-on.
Zhiqing exhaled quietly and nodded. "Alright."
She followed her father down the long, polished corridor. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor was the only noise between them until they reached the heavy double doors of the study.
He opened them, gestured her inside, and then closed the door behind them with a soft click.
The Jiang family study—once her haven when she was a little girl—suddenly felt colder. The walls lined with books, the grandfather clock ticking like a countdown, and the heavy scent of aged paper—it all wrapped around her like history she couldn't outrun.
Papa Jiang walked behind his desk but didn't sit. Instead, he remained standing, arms crossed.
"Why did you come back?" he asked.
Not unkindly.
Just… sharply. As if weighing her answer more than her tone.
Zhiqing pouted, her voice soft and sweet as she tilted her head, trying to disarm him."Papa, I missed you…"
With that, she took a small step forward, arms outstretched as if to hug him—like the little girl she used to be. But Papa Jiang wasn't moved.
He saw right through it.
With a quiet scoff and a subtle turn of his body, he dodged her embrace like swatting away an obvious trick. The old armchair creaked slightly as he sat down, steepling his fingers and fixing her with a calm, unreadable stare.
Then he asked, voice cold and deliberate, So… Are you ready to get married?"
The smile on Zhiqing's face stiffened. Just for a second. But she caught herself.
Trying to wriggle out of the corner he'd backed her into, Zhiqing quickly switched gears. Her eyes shimmered with mock sorrow as she clutched the corner of her shirt like a bullied kitten."Papa… they hit me with a rotten egg. I had to sit in the police station for hours… The smell still haunts me."
Her voice trembled just enough to be convincing—if someone didn't know her well.
But Papa Jiang had raised her. And he wasn't buying it.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, one brow arched in stern amusement.
"Don't forget," he said coolly, "I'm from the same industry too. I've seen better acting from fresh interns."
Zhiqing's fake pout faltered.
"Don't try to change the topic," he continued, his voice steel. "Answer the question clearly—are you going to marry him or not?"
Zhiqing leaned against the edge of his desk, swinging her arms like a guilty child caught stealing cookies.
"Hmm... marry him?" She tapped her chin with exaggerated thought. "Depends… Is he handsome? Does he have abs? Can he cook?"
Papa Jiang's jaw clenched. "Zhiqing."
She grinned, clearly enjoying his rising irritation. "Okay, okay. No need to fry a nerve. But at least let me see the man first. What if he's shorter than me? That's practically a crime."
He shot her a sharp look.
She raised both hands in surrender. "Fine, fine! I'll marry him."
A long pause.
"But only because I trust your taste," she added with a wink.
Papa Jiang gave an exasperated sigh and muttered, "Heavens save this family from this drama queen."
Zhiqing chuckled under her breath. "You missed me; admit it."
As she started up the stairs, he called after her, his voice softening just slightly, "Go on. Get some rest."
Zhiqing paused for a moment at the landing, lips curving into a quiet smile, then continued up without a word.