Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: Old! Hag!

In the past, Jiang Ning had endured and yielded to the Jiang family time and again out of gratitude to her grandparents. It wasn’t until Cao Huixian sent her Du Chenghong’s hotel room number that she finally understood—sincerity does not always beget sincerity, but it certainly emboldens others to take further advantage. There are some hearts you simply cannot warm, so she gave up trying.

Lu Cheng, knowing that Cao Huixian would gain no ground with Jiang Ning, felt at ease to return to the bedroom and pack his things. Jiang Ning stood by the door, absentmindedly stroking her eyebrows and picking at her nails as Cao Huixian raged. It wasn’t that she was afraid of a quarrel, but rather she wanted to keep Cao Huixian from venting her anger elsewhere. Otherwise, after the holiday, Cao Huixian might storm into the school, and that would be even more troublesome to deal with.

Only when Cao Huixian had finally exhausted her tirade did Jiang Ning open her mouth, speaking languidly, a faint smile held back, “Can’t you come up with any new lines? You keep repeating yourself—I’ve practically memorized them.”

“You!” Cao Huixian was so infuriated it was as if she’d struck a heavy blow against cotton—her rage found no purchase. Yet, despite her agitation, she hadn’t forgotten her purpose for coming.

“I really don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. You have a good life, yet you insist on ruining yourself—and not just yourself, you drag the whole family down with you. Get that Lu fellow out here. No, better yet, you both go to the Du family and apologize. Right now! Immediately!”

Jiang Ning replied, “This is the first time I’ve heard of victims being told to apologize to their attackers. What kind of rule is that?”

Cao Huixian’s voice rose several pitches, almost breaking, “Who are you calling a victim? Chenghong’s ribs were fractured!”

A flicker of surprise crossed Jiang Ning’s face before she replied, “Then he needs more calcium.”

Du Chenghong had been whining endlessly at the police station, his face twisted in pain—she’d thought he was faking it. Who would have expected he’d actually suffered a fracture? She couldn’t tell if he was too frail or if Lu Cheng’s fighting skills were simply too formidable.

Cao Huixian, with more than fifty years of life experience, immediately caught the change in Jiang Ning’s expression. She craned her neck to peer inside, making sure Lu Cheng wasn’t in the living room, before switching to a heartfelt, lowered tone, “You may not be my own daughter, but you’ve called me ‘Mom’ for so many years. I can’t just watch you walk into disaster. Tell me, out of all the ways to make a living, why run an adult shop and sell those things? Is that really something decent people do?”

Jiang Ning said nothing.

Whether or not Lu Cheng ran an adult shop, she didn’t see the need to explain herself to Cao Huixian.

Cao Huixian pressed on, “And today—Chenghong only wanted to bring you flowers, but he ended up with broken ribs, and Lu Cheng pushed all the blame away. If you really spend your life with someone like him, who can guarantee his fists won’t one day fall on you? How many times do you think your little body can take it? I’m not trying to scare you—just look online, there are countless stories of women killed by abusive men. Do you want to be the next?”

For men, the greatest fear is choosing the wrong path; for women, it’s marrying the wrong man. In Cao Huixian’s mind, both applied here to Jiang Ning and Lu Cheng.

Indeed, for a woman, a violent man is a dreadful plague—nearly impossible to rid oneself of; if not fatal, it’s at least a skin-stripping ordeal.

Jiang Ning remained silent, and Cao Huixian, thinking her warnings were working, continued her relentless persuasion.

“...Nine hundred and ninety-nine roses—each one represents sincerity. Chenghong truly loves you. If you divorce and remarry, you’ll be considered a second marriage, yet he doesn’t mind. What more could you possibly want?”

Cao Huixian was anxious. Jiang Ning’s refusal had already cost her over a million in betrothal gifts, and if things dragged on, she feared she’d lose even more. The company contracts were still pending; Du Chenghong was determined to have Jiang Ning, and if she wasn’t delivered, all prior deals would be lost.

Leaning against the door frame, Jiang Ning’s eyes were full of mockery. “So according to you, I ought to thank him?”

Cao Huixian replied, “If not thank him, you should at least appreciate his kindness. He’s devoted to you—such deep affection, such great fortune! Many would beg for a blessing like this, and yet you’re simply blind to your own good fortune!”

Jiang Ning was speechless, stunned by the shamelessness on display. Affection? Fortune? Blind to her own blessings?

Coveting a married woman is neither moral nor lawful, yet some people cling to such twisted logic with absolute conviction.

Cao Huixian continued, “When it comes down to it, a woman’s life depends on the man she marries. Marry an emperor, and you’re at least a concubine; marry a beggar, and you’ll always be a beggar’s wife, no matter what.”

She stroked the new diamond necklace at her neck, twisting her wrist to reveal a fine jade bracelet.

“The Du family’s wealth needs no explanation; Chenghong is their only son. Someday, all of it will be his. If you marry him, even if you divorce later, half of the family fortune will be yours. You graduated from a top university—surely you can do the math?”

With gentle persuasion and hopeful eyes, Cao Huixian tried to lure her.

Jiang Ning was just about to speak when Lu Cheng emerged, his arm naturally circling her slender waist. “I was wondering what all that rattling was—turns out someone’s been flicking abacus beads out here. They nearly hit me in the face.”

The moment Cao Huixian saw him, she felt a strength in her body that she simply could not bring to bear, a sense of utter helplessness. She gave him a sour look, threw a curt, “I’ve said all I have to say—do as you will,” to Jiang Ning, and turned toward the elevator.

The elevator was only a few steps from the door. Facing away, Cao Huixian waited for it, overhearing the couple speak as if she weren’t there.

Lu Cheng asked, “What was the old hag yammering about?”

Old hag!

Cao Huixian’s mouth twitched; she nearly ground her teeth to pieces trying to resist the urge to storm back and fight. Mainly, she knew she’d lose.

Jiang Ning didn’t hide a thing. “She said you fractured Du Chenghong’s ribs in three moves, and if you ever beat me, she wondered how many times I could take it.”

Slander and sowing discord are only effective behind one’s back; she hadn’t expected Jiang Ning to be so direct with Lu Cheng. Instantly, Cao Huixian felt a prickle at her back. As soon as the elevator doors opened, she hurriedly fled.

With the audience gone, Jiang Ning slipped from Lu Cheng’s embrace, half-joking, “You don’t have violent tendencies, do you?”

Lu Cheng replied, “Should I go see a psychiatrist again?”

Jiang Ning turned and headed back inside, saying as she passed him, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Lu Cheng’s hand, hanging by his side, curled briefly before he let go, closed the door, and followed her in. Jiang Ning had already returned to the master bedroom.

Her phone was charging on the nightstand. Just as she entered, the screen lit up.

It was a message from Han Fang: I’m downstairs.