Chapter 28 Part 1

After a long while, sounds stirred outside the door.

The rumble of a car engine, lively chatter, and crisp laughter.

Lin Qimian rose and went to the window, peering out.

In the glow of the lamplight, the first figure to catch her eye was Lin Zixuan, dashing forward with someone clutching her hand.

By all rights, it should have been her mother, Zhao Li—but as the shadow shifted, it turned out to be Lin Haisen.

That Lin Haisen, forever frowning and stern-faced—charitably described as commanding respect without a word, less kindly as looking like someone owed him five million bucks—the renowned entrepreneur.

It had been about a year since they’d last met, and he’d put on a fair bit of weight, his cheeks now sporting two extra rolls of flesh. Teased by his youngest daughter’s bubbly energy, the corners of his mouth tugged upward, his eyelids drooping in a way that made him seem warm and approachable.

“Slow down,” Lin Haisen said, shuffling after her. “Your sister’s inside; she’s not going anywhere.”

Zhao Li stepped up, grabbing Lin Zixuan’s other hand with a smile. “Exactly. What’s the big rush? You’re a grown girl now, still carrying on like a little kid.”

Lin Qimian crossed her arms and tilted her head, watching in silence.

Lin Zixuan let out a huff. “It’s hot out there, Mom and Dad—you guys are way too slow!!!”

Zhao Li tugged at the hem of her skirt. “Look at your clothes, all wrinkled.”

Lin Zixuan shot back, “Mom, you only care about the clothes. Dad bought them for me, and even he doesn’t mind.”

Zhao Li laughed. “What does your dad know? He just pulls out the wallet.”

Lin Haisen guffawed. “I know my girl looks good in anything she puts on.”

Lin Qimian nearly burst into applause.

What a heartwarming scene of doting father and dutiful daughter, the picture of family bliss.

They turned that short walk into the opening credits of a TV drama, spouting every cliché about “what a perfect family we have,” before finally reaching the porch.

Lin Qimian turned to watch from a different angle.

The door swung open, and the three of them stepped inside. She didn’t move to greet them, staying right where she was.

Lin Zixuan spotted her first. Her eyes darted about before her bright face locked onto Lin Qimian.

Nothing could hold her back now. She bolted over, arms rising in the air before dropping back down. In the end, she held back from any bolder gesture, skidding to a halt just a step away.

“Sister!” she called out warmly.

Lin Qimian curved her lips slightly. “Mm.”

Lin Zixuan pressed on. “Sister, when did you get here? Sister, you look even fairer than before.”

Lin Qimian replied coolly, “I’ve been staying here the whole time. No sun exposure keeps me pale.”

Lin Zixuan blinked, momentarily stunned.

Lin Haisen called out, “What are you two up to over there? Come sit in the living room. Xuanxuan, didn’t you chatter the whole ride about giving your sister a gift? You forgetting already?”

“Oh, right, right!” Lin Zixuan dashed back.

Lin Qimian sauntered over to the sofa and sat down.

A bottle of water sat on the table—the one she’d grabbed when she arrived. It had lost its chill.

She picked it up and took a sip.

Lin Haisen and Zhao Li approached her. He eyed the bare coffee table, then the bottle in her hand. “This place is so out of the way, and no one’s lived here in ages. There’s nothing around. What made you decide to come out here all of a sudden…”

“Dad, do you think this place is no good anymore?” Lin Qimian asked. “I still remember when we first moved in. You raved about how perfect everything was, invited a ton of relatives and friends—people we knew and didn’t—and threw a three-day party.”

She lifted her gaze to him. “Forgotten already?”

Lin Haisen’s face fell, all trace of familial cheer vanishing. “That was years ago…”

Zhao Li patted his shoulder, urging him to sit. “The old house has its charms. It’s nice to visit now and then.”

“It does have a certain flavor,” Lin Qimian agreed. “Auntie Zhao wouldn’t know, though—she’s never gotten a whiff of it.”

Leaning forward with keen interest, she added, “I remember back when Auntie Zhao hadn’t married my dad yet, you already had a place lined up in T City. Did you throw a big bash for all your guests, partying three days and nights?”

Zhao Li’s smile strained at the corners. “We didn’t do things like that…”

Lin Qimian nodded. “Fair enough. You were young and beautiful, after all, marrying my dad—a widowed man on his second go, and his first wife had only been gone six months…”

“Qimian!” Lin Haisen barked. “We’re all together as a family for once—let’s not dredge up the past!”

Lin Qimian arched a brow.

Zhao Li shifted uncomfortably. She gestured toward the door. “Um, I sent Xiao Wang to pick up a few things and scout a spot for dinner tonight…”

“Auntie, no need,” Lin Qimian cut in. “I’ve already got dinner covered.”

Zhao Li faltered. “Oh… really?”

Lin Qimian smiled and nodded. “Yeah, they’re all places I used to frequent back in the day. The food’s great. You wouldn’t know it, but during Middle School, there were no adults at home. The auntie who did the cooking would vanish during holidays—you never knew when. So I made a schedule for myself: this on odd days, that on even days. There wasn’t a restaurant for ten miles around that I hadn’t tried…”

Lin Haisen stood up. “Let’s go eat first, then we can talk over the meal.”

Lin Zixuan sidled up to Lin Qimian with a gift box in her hands. “Sis Mianmian, take a look at this. I think it suits you perfectly.”

Lin Qimian didn’t take the box but opened it right there in Zixuan’s hands. Inside was a yellow citrine bracelet, likely the early autumn release from some big-name brand.

“Not bad,” Lin Qimian said. She lifted her own wrist. “I use my hands a lot for work, so I don’t wear stuff like this. You keep it for yourself.”

Lin Haisen chimed in. “There’s time off work, too. Don’t think about nothing but your job all day long. You’re young—you need a personal life…”

Before Lin Qimian could reply, Zhao Li let out a sudden cry from over by the dining table.

“Ah—”

It wasn’t loud, and she cut the sound off abruptly. Lin Haisen hurried over in a few long strides. “What happened?”

Lin Qimian caught Zhao Li’s soft, flustered tone. “Nothing… I just suddenly saw…”

Lin Qimian stepped into the dining room. At the far end of the long table, right where the host’s seat should have been, sat a black-and-white photo frame, positioned perfectly straight. Candlesticks and fresh flowers flanked it, and the entire table was laid with dishes that had gone cold—like some lavish memorial rite.

Zhao Li stood off at a distance, while Lin Haisen’s eyes locked onto the frame. His face darkened, his brows knitting together tight enough to squash a fly.

“Ah…” Lin Qimian murmured softly. “Did that scare you, Auntie Zhao?”

“Sorry about it,” she added, her expression utterly sincere. “President Lin said it was a family reunion dinner. I figured Mom counts as part of this big family too, right?”

Zhao Li edged behind Lin Haisen. “Y-yes, she does.”

Lin Qimian beckoned to Zixuan. “Xuanxuan, come here.”

Zixuan glanced at the photo, then at Lin Qimian. She bowed deeply to the frame before hurrying over to Zhao Li’s side.

Lin Qimian walked up and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat. If we don’t eat soon, the food’ll all go cold.”

Lin Haisen eyed the congealed layer of fat on the meat dishes. “It’s already cold.”

Lin Qimian tilted her head. “Ah, does Dad think it’s cold already? I think it’s fine. Takeout’s never as good as fresh stir-fry from home, anyway. Sometimes I wake up hungry in the middle of the night and just have cold leftovers with a steamed bun. Tastes great…”

Lin Haisen found he had no appetite for the meal at all.

Lin Qimian wasn’t usually this chatty—or rather, she hardly ever spoke to him at all.

Out of three phone calls, she’d pick up once if he was lucky. Agreeing to a meal together? That was a miracle.

So when she’d suddenly suggested coming back to the Old Mansion for dinner, Lin Haisen figured that as long as nothing major went wrong, it’d be fine anywhere.

Now there was no major problem, but Lin Qimian wouldn’t stop prodding at raw nerves.

Not a single word she said sat right. Every sentence was an accusation: that he’d failed her, that he hadn’t lived up to his duties as a father.

Lin Haisen was getting on in years. He couldn’t stomach hearing it.

He jerked a thumb toward the door. “Xiaoli, take Xuanxuan out for now. I need to talk to Qimian.”

Zhao Li hurriedly tugged Lin Zixuan out of the dining room. In the vast, ornate space, only Lin Qimian and Lin Haisen were left.

Lin Qimian settled into her usual chair.

Lin Haisen’s voice came out low and heavy. “What are you playing at? If you didn’t want this dinner, you could’ve just said so on the phone…”

Lin Qimian poured herself a glass of wine and raised it toward her mother’s photo. “Is it up to whether I want it or not? This is a family reunion—little sis even got you a gift.”

Lin Haisen’s knuckles rapped sharply on the table. “Was I wrong? Who here isn’t trying to get closer to you sincerely? Who isn’t trying to make it up to you…”

“Dad.” Lin Qimian downed the wine, finding the whole thing rather pointless. “Then I’ll just be straight with you. Some things happened, and you did them. I suffered for it. It’s all in the past now, and you’ve already compensated me with all that money…”

“It could all be written off,” Lin Qimian said. “If you weren’t looking to squeeze something more out of me.”

“As a kid, I didn’t get it. Grown up, it’s crystal clear. You didn’t cheat on Mom while she was alive. You didn’t toss me aside the second she died. You just swapped out the old love for a new one pretty quick. And not bringing me to your new home? Wasn’t that because of my rotten personality—because I’d have stirred up trouble and ruined the peace?

“You pick this, you can’t have that. You chose harmony in your new family, and look—your new family’s plenty harmonious now.”

“As for the things you tossed away more than a decade ago, there’s no need to keep dreaming about getting them back, is there?

“I can’t let you have it all. Besides, I don’t have what you’re after anyway.”

Lin Qimian spread her hands wide, gesturing to the vast dining table before them—the congealed remnants of cold dishes, her mother existing only in photographs, and the chill that permeated the empty house. “I’ve been living like this ever since Mom died. Three years? Well… more like thirteen, to be precise. Did you really expect me to turn out like your little princess over there—pure and adorable, sweet and bubbly, the perfect daddy’s girl?”

She tugged at her own cheek, pulling the skin taut. “Take another look at this face. Even as I’m laying all this out for you, it doesn’t crack a single expression. Forget about misty eyes or a single tear…”

She let out a faint smile. “This model’s a total write-off. You’d be better off channeling those paternal urges into something productive while Auntie Zhao’s still young—go ahead and have another kid.”

Lin Qimian poured herself another glass of wine and raised it toward Lin Haisen in a mocking toast. “To your speedy arrival of a son and heir, and all the family joys that come with it. And after this? Don’t come bothering me again.”

Lin Haisen went rigid, rooted to the spot.

Lin Qimian grabbed the wine bottle, scooped her mother’s photo into her arms, and headed upstairs without a backward glance. “See yourself out.”

Huang Xiaoyi took her sweet time with dinner that evening. She’d rushed back home without much notice, so her mother had been cooking on the fly while she ate. No sooner had she polished off one dish than she was craving the next, which was already sizzling in the pan.

She kept going until her belly swelled round and she could barely move, at which point her mother gently coaxed her to stop.

“It’s not like you haven’t eaten this before. Why does it taste so much better this time?” her mother said with a fond smile.

“Because it is better. Yours is the best, Mom—no one makes it like you do.” Huang Xiaoyi flopped onto the sofa and scrolled through her phone. “That’s why I’ve got all this spare tire around my middle. Look at Qimian—she could pull off anything and look amazing.”

Her mother chuckled. “So it’s my fault now? Qimian doesn’t have a mom, but she still grew up eating her mother’s cooking…”

Huang Xiaoyi paused, her expression turning somber. “Mom, Qimian really doesn’t have a mom anymore. When I first met her, her mom had already passed away.”

Huang Mama froze for a long moment before murmuring, “Then we should have her over for dinner sometime.”

“With her personality? Good luck calling her out.” Huang Xiaoyi set her phone aside, her mind drifting back to their Middle School days and Lin Qimian’s demeanor then. “Things are better now—I can drag her out for a meal maybe once a month. Back when we were in school, I was too scared to even talk to her. Can you believe it? We were deskmates for half a semester, and I only spoke to her twice the whole time…

“She always had this icy expression, lips pressed into a flat line. She’d avoid speaking if she could, just shoot you a look and expect you to figure it out.

“I’m not the sharpest, so sometimes I got it, sometimes I didn’t—and that terrified me. I kept thinking I’d mess up somehow and she’d drag me out to the back field behind the school to finish me off.

“It wasn’t just me being chicken—the whole class was afraid of her. Everyone gave her a wide berth. And she was so pretty, aced every test, came from this super-rich family with a massive villa. She might as well have been from another planet…”

Huang Xiaoyi blinked. “It wasn’t until something came up and she actually needed my help that we started getting close.”

Huang Mama leaned in curiously. “What could she possibly need help from you with?”