Chapter 121: A Visit to Grandfather

It was not until the man opposite her finished his shower and wrapped himself in a bathrobe that he had someone prepare a fresh meal on a cart, which he then rolled directly beside the bathtub.

Seeing the woman covered in a light sheen of sweat, as if struggling with something in her sleep, she began to slip lower into the water. Just as the water reached her lips, Fu Yanyan gently pulled her up. She jolted awake, gasping for air. In the mist-filled, humid room, she finally regained her senses, looking at the man before her with his doting expression, and whispered two words:

"Fool."

"A-Yan, my body feels so weak. Once I'm tired, I can barely move."

"I’ll have the doctor prescribe you some medicine later. A-Hua, what would you like to eat?"

Fu Yanyan even placed a tablet in front of her, selected a movie, and began to feed her.

Ever since she had been with him, Zhong Huayan often felt like an invalid, the kind unable to care for herself. She only needed to open her mouth, and food would be brought to her lips.

This was exactly what Fu Yanyan intended. He wanted to use endless means to hold onto her, a slow and steady infiltration of her heart until she was completely dependent on him, unable to extricate herself, providing a level of indulgence that no one else could ever rival.

As it happened, Zhong Huayan was particularly susceptible to this; she was a woman who responded to softness rather than force. Compared to harsh scolding or strict discipline, she preferred this intoxicating, lingering affection.

After they finished their meal, she was wrapped securely in a blanket by Fu Yanyan and carried to a room inside the yacht.

She loved the scent of gardenias in the room; this preference was something she had cultivated since childhood. Growing up, she had always drifted off to sleep accompanied by the fragrance of white gardenias, and as she grew older, she became dependent on the scent. Since that fire, although she had seen the harsh reality of human nature, she had also received much warmth.

The older brother and mother of the Li family loved Li Yanyan in the most ordinary and simple of ways. Even though Fu Yanyan was a hypocritical scoundrel who had caused her many scares, he had also given her a level of romance and passion she had never known before.

Even the fans on her phone—whether interested in antique appraisal, Kunqu opera, dance, or art—were silently cheering for her, admiring her, and watching over her every day.

Zhong Huayan often felt as though all of this were an absurdly beautiful dream. In an instant, she had gained family, love, and her dreams; the stars that were once out of reach were now falling into her arms. That night, she slept soundly.

***

The yacht docked by the river. The night reflected off the water, dark and turbulent, while the moon shattered into shimmering fragments across the surface. After the fireworks, the sky seemed even more desolate.

Pedestrians along the river gradually dispersed, leaving only the city, still brightly lit with the endless flow of traffic. The world, its bustling glamour faded, softly illuminated the thin wisps of clouds in the dark sky. The autumn night air by the river was bone-chilling, yet the man, wearing only his bathrobe, seemed to feel no cold as he lit a cigarette.

The next morning, he could not bear to wake her, fearing that if she skipped breakfast, it would affect her health. So, he coaxed her into drinking a few spoonfuls of porridge while she was still groggy, before she drifted back into a deep sleep.

It was not until noon that Zhong Huayan finally changed her clothes and took a pill with warm water, as the doctor had instructed. She wore a blue, velvet-like dress that reached her ankles, cinched at the waist with a thin, high-end brown belt. Slipping into her fluffy house shoes, she rubbed her sleepy eyes and began her lunch.

"Assistant, where is your boss?"

"Our boss has gone to handle some matters. After you finish lunch, you can head straight to the car."

"Is he going to his grandfather's house?"

The assistant was slightly surprised but answered truthfully, "Yes. Today, the boss intends to take you with him to visit his mother's family."

Fu Yanyan’s biological father and Zhong Huayan’s biological father had been best friends. However, during an excursion to raid an ancient tomb, an accident occurred. Zhong Huayan’s father had refused to save his friend, instead seizing the wealth for himself, which became the foundation of his fortune. Upon learning the truth, Fu Yanyan’s biological mother was heartbroken and took her own life that very night.

His grandfather, who had eight children, held immense power in the Northeast provinces, yet he was notoriously patriarchal. He cared little for his female descendants, preferring to bring illegitimate sons home rather than invest in his own daughters. Years ago, such biases were especially severe among wealthy families and the nouveau riche.

Sometimes, Zhong Huayan wished she didn't have such a "cursed" fate regarding her siblings. If she had a brother or sister left after her parents died of cancer, perhaps she wouldn't feel so exhausted or be so constantly targeted by those wishing for her death.

"Assistant, I'm finished."

***

"Ma'am, please go outside and get in the car."

After the assistant spoke, he signaled with his device. As she stepped off the yacht, she saw several bodyguards following behind her.

Zhong Huayan sat in the luxury car, applying hand cream, as the driver set off. Once they reached the private airfield, she began playing on her phone, handling matters regarding the repatriation of overseas Chinese cultural relics. Her private messages regarding antique appraisals had been neglected for a while, and they were piling up.

She could have chosen not to go with Fu Yanyan, but remembering that she owed a debt to his late mother, she decided to pay her respects to the old man.

Once Fu Yanyan boarded the plane, it took off. He was dressed with particular restraint today: a black sweater paired with a gray buttoned coat. He looked calm and composed, his right leg, clad in black trousers, crossed over his left. As always, a dzi bead hung from his neck, resting near his heart.

Next to him were red wine, cigars, and at least twenty wooden crates carved from Vietnamese huanghuali rosewood. An opened box revealed a bounty of cordyceps; the others were likely gifts for his grandfather.

"A-Hua, it’s been a long time since you tasted the wine I brew."

"You brewed all of these? They look like they’ve been aging for years."

Zhong Huayan looked at the jars of wine that seemed out of place. Based on their appearance, they had been buried for years and had only just been unearthed.

"Then, A-Hua, take a guess: when were these brewed?"

"You're asking for trouble. My specialty is appraisal. This wine must have been buried three years ago, and definitely in soil that was somewhat damp and at a higher elevation. By the way, are you still using fruit to brew it?"

"A-Hua, you truly are remarkable. Not only did you guess the vintage correctly, but even the soil conditions were spot on. You’ll see when you taste it later."

Fu Yanyan genuinely admired this ability. If not for her vast experience, extraordinary memory, and innate talent, it would be impossible for someone under fifty to be able to appraise all things. This talent, he suspected, was something she had inherited from her father.