Volume One, Chapter Twelve: A Ridiculous Family

The soup bowl flew ahead, still half-filled with hot broth, splashing as it sailed through the air.

Jiang Ning instinctively leaned back to avoid it, only to be blocked by the chair behind her. Just as the bowl was about to hit her, an arm tightened swiftly around her waist, lifting her up and into Lu Cheng’s embrace. Almost simultaneously, the bowl smashed against the chair’s back, hot soup spilling and spreading into a dark stain. With a crisp clang, the bowl tumbled to the floor, shattering into jagged pieces.

Lu Cheng held Jiang Ning close, his gaze cold and dark. “The day after we register our marriage, you start forcing my wife to remarry? Do you think I’m dead?”

His tone was not loud, nor did it boast open rage, yet the pressure he exuded was undiminished. Men with such presence were either solidly backed or ruthlessly resolute. The adult club business itself sparked enough speculation; dig a little deeper, and there was every chance it brushed up against the gray, even the black market.

Jiang Zhaoyuan’s eyes narrowed, unconsciously filing Lu Cheng under the ruthlessly resolute. Compared to Jiang Zhaoyuan’s sly cunning, Du Chenghong could only boast a head as empty as his height. He shot up like a lit firecracker, stomping a foot on the chair and jabbing a finger at Lu Cheng’s nose. “You’re nothing but a broke peddler of condoms! What difference does it make if you’re alive or dead?”

Cao Huixian stood up, arms crossed, and unleashed her familiar sharp tongue. “You really think you’re worthy of marrying a daughter of the Jiang family? Look in the mirror, see what kind of trash you are.”

Lu Cheng’s gaze swept over her, icy. “What kind of trash am I?”

Intimidated by his look, Cao Huixian stammered, “Well—well, you’re a poor thug, obviously.”

Just as Du Chenghong had said: just a pathetic condom seller.

Jiang Hui rose too, but directed herself toward Jiang Ning. “Sister, please stop making a scene. Mom and Dad only want what’s best for you. We’re family, how could we ever harm you?”

She feigned concern, but her eyes blazed with obvious provocation.

Jiang Ning regarded this so-called ‘twin sister’ with amusement and a mocking smile. Thankfully, they were not true twins.

Jiang Ning’s beauty was innate, breathtaking since childhood. Top of her class, excelling in every aspect, she’d attended elite public schools and was praised by every teacher she’d ever had. In contrast, Jiang Hui had been dark-skinned, scrawny, and malnourished as a child. Though she grew prettier with age, it never seemed enough. She became obsessed with cosmetic treatments, her face so stiff from procedures that her smile looked more like a grimace. Her grades were mediocre at best; years of expensive tutors carried her from elementary school through college entrance exams, but even then she fell short of the undergraduate threshold. Money sent her overseas for a veneer of prestige, and upon her return, she was made a deputy manager in the family company—never working overtime, never using her brain, collecting her salary like a welfare check.

Jiang Ning’s gaze lingered on the shattered bowl. Hearing Jiang Hui’s words, she sneered, cutting. “Family? What a load of nonsense.”

To this household, she was nothing more than that bowl—discarded whenever convenient, with no thought for how hard the ground was, or into how many pieces it might break. Insignificant, yet useful enough to hold soup—or to be used as a weapon.

Rage simmered in Jiang Ning’s chest.

Grabbing the edge of the tablecloth, she gave it a hard yank. With a crash, cups, plates, and bowls tumbled and clattered to the floor. Startled, the servants rushed over, but dared not approach.

Cao Huixian shrieked, “Are you insane, Jiang Ning!”

Jiang Zhaoyuan said nothing, his face dark as ink.

Jiang Ning took Lu Cheng’s hand and strode away with poise. “No more dinner. Let’s go.”

She worried that Lu Cheng might lose his temper at their insults and refuse to leave with her. At moments like this, if they weren’t united, both dignity and advantage would be lost. To her surprise, Lu Cheng was perfectly cooperative.

Behind them, Cao Huixian shouted, “Go then! And never come back! Not even in death will you step through this door again!”

Jiang Ning paused, turned to look at her, and replied, “Fine. Then let’s find time to formalize the dissolution of my adoption.”

Her grandparents were gone, and after everything that had happened, she felt no trace of attachment to the Jiang family.

At the mention of ‘adoption,’ Du Chenghong’s expression didn’t change—he clearly already knew.

Cao Huixian sneered. “You wish! You took our family name and our family’s charity, and now that you’ve grown wings, you want to sever ties? Do you think we’re fools? Just wait—tomorrow I’ll go to your school, let the administration see your true colors. Maybe they’ll fire you, so you can’t corrupt any more children.”

The mention of her school made Jiang Ning uneasy; she frowned but said nothing.

Lu Cheng squeezed her hand and called out to Cao Huixian, “Come whenever you like. I’ll make sure to keep a few bottles of our miracle oil in her bag for you. Consider it a little filial token from the younger generation.”

As he spoke, his sidelong glance deliberately included Jiang Zhaoyuan.

“You—you scoundrel!” Cao Huixian trembled with rage.

Lu Cheng remained unfazed. Speaking to elders in such a way was indeed rebellious, but these weren’t his elders—and Jiang Ning wasn’t their blood either. Even if she were, he believed more in meeting malice with malice than in feigned filial piety.

As Chairman Mao once said: good wine for friends, a shotgun for wolves.

And these people were clearly not here for a drink.

Du Chenghong ground his teeth as he watched them leave, then spun on Jiang Zhaoyuan. “You’re just going to let them walk out?”

Disgust flashed in Jiang Zhaoyuan’s eyes, but his words were suggestive. “He’s just a small shop owner. Can’t you handle him?”

Du Chenghong realized he was right—a mere condom seller. He hurried off, and on his way home, he was already making calls, eager to round up his people.

Meanwhile, Lu Cheng hailed a cab to take Jiang Ning back to the Garden Residences. Watching the gray, faded gates, Jiang Ning felt a pang of melancholy. The year after her grandmother passed, her grandfather followed. Knowing her circumstances in the Jiang family, he’d left her the apartment at the Garden Residences before he died. Time had not been kind; the once-luxurious complex was now worn and desolate, its walls stained, its interiors showing the marks of passing years.

When they reached the entrance, Lu Cheng asked if she wanted to get something to eat. Jiang Ning shook her head limply—she had no appetite.

Lu Cheng asked, “Want me to walk you upstairs?”

Jiang Ning swept her hair back, glanced at the busy street, and smiled wryly. “Let’s just have some peace. I’m not in the mood to quarrel with you.”

Lu Cheng grinned. “If you need anything, just call me.”

With that, he flagged down a passing taxi.

Watching him leave, Jiang Ning turned into the complex. After a few steps, a thought struck her, and she pulled out her phone to message Lu Cheng: Your shop must have security cameras, right?

He replied instantly: It’s really not my shop.

He added a face-palm emoji.

Jiang Ning texted back: Whoever’s shop it is, things will probably get messy. Be careful.

Du Chenghong wasn’t one to swallow an insult. After the scene today, he was bound to make a move.

Jiang Ning felt it necessary to warn Lu Cheng. When dealing with the likes of Du Chenghong—a spoiled second-generation heir—better safe than sorry.

No reply came for a while.

Jiang Ning took a shower, dried her hair, went through her skincare routine, and finally felt her mood lighten, shedding much of the gloom left by the Jiang family. Hunger crept in.

Curled on the sofa, she was about to order takeout when a new message popped up.

From Lu Cheng—just an “Mm.”

Jiang Ning clicked her tongue. That was barely worth replying.

Perhaps he realized how perfunctory he’d been; soon another message followed: Got it.