Xie Chengyu’s handsomeness didn’t just come from his tall build and innate air of nobility, but also from his flawless features.
Even if he weren’t a man in power, just that face alone was enough to conquer crowds. This was the first time Nan Qingqing had seen someone this striking, and her heart skipped.
“Brother-in-law, you just arrived too? Come, have some tea.”
Her voice softened considerably. She picked up a cup of tea—yet instead of handing it to him, she raised it right to his lips, deliberately in front of Nan Xiao.
Nan Xiao’s face darkened, while Xie Chengyu’s turned cold. He took the cup and said flatly: “I can do it myself.”
He didn’t even bother to glance at Nan Qingqing. He didn’t drink a sip, just set the cup aside on a cabinet. Nan Qingqing, however, couldn’t take her eyes off his face.
She wasn’t a stunning beauty by entertainment-industry standards, but she had once been the belle of a small class. Especially when standing next to the “hideous” Nan Xiao, she was confident in herself.
So Xie Chengyu’s momentary coldness didn’t discourage her. The corners of her lips curved with self-assurance.
Just then, Nan Fengguo arrived.
In his early fifties, he was broad-shouldered, wearing a blue Tang suit. His face was stern and dignified, carrying the authority of someone long used to command.
When Nan Xiao saw him, her fists clenched, hatred rising inside.
But nothing showed on her face. She walked with Xie Chengyu at her side, offering birthday greetings.
Nan Fengguo gave Xie Chengyu a once-over, nodded slightly, and entered the dining hall first. The others followed.
The Nan family’s business was in home furnishings, a mid-tier family among Beicheng’s elite circles—two rungs below the Xie family. Even without the marriage-for-luck story, Nan Xiao and Xie Chengyu hadn’t been a proper match.
Nan Fengguo also knew Xie Chengyu hadn’t come home in three years, and that this powerful son-in-law offered no help to the family business. He treated him no differently than an ordinary son-in-law—polite, but not warm.
Feng Yun, however, was a master of social graces. As soon as they sat in the spacious dining room, she had the kitchen send out dishes and led the toasts.
Dinner began.
Nan Xiao placed a shrimp in Xie Chengyu’s bowl and smiled at him.
Even through her mask, he caught her smile. A strange warmth stirred in his chest. He returned it with a faint smile of his own and carefully shelled a crab for her.
Nan Fengguo noticed, secretly nodding in approval.
“Dad, I’d like to mention something.” Nan Xiao suddenly spoke.
Nan Qingqing’s face tightened, but Nan Xiao ignored her. “Father, shouldn’t we start considering a match for Sister Qingqing?”
Feng Yun’s expression soured, but she kept her composure. With a polite smile, she said: “How thoughtful. Qingqing has been your elder sister for so many years, and you’re always worrying about her. Such a good little sister.”
In families like theirs, rules of hierarchy mattered. For the younger sister to suggest marriage for the elder was improper. Feng Yun’s words pointedly highlighted this.
Nan Fengguo frowned.
Nan Xiao feigned obliviousness. She lifted her mask slightly, ate the crab Xie Chengyu had peeled for her, and said casually:
“Dad, Aunt Feng, I don’t say this to cause trouble. But just now, Sister Qingqing called me ugly to my face.
“I can laugh it off when she insults me. But what if one day she says such things to someone else? People will only think she’s immature.
“And earlier, she wasn’t very respectful toward her brother-in-law. If word of that spread, wouldn’t people say our Nan family lacks proper upbringing?”
Her tone was light, almost offhand, but Nan Fengguo’s face darkened. Feng Yun and Nan Qingqing broke into a cold sweat.
Everyone knew Nan Qingqing’s tongue was sharp—this wasn’t just “a few insults.”
And as for “not respecting her brother-in-law”—since the meal began, her gaze at Xie Chengyu had been inappropriate. Everyone had seen it.
Slamming his chopsticks down, Nan Fengguo was about to explode—
“Dad.”
Nan Xiao cut him off in time.
“Qingqing doesn’t mean harm, she’s just unsettled because she hasn’t married yet,” she said gently. “If you and Aunt Feng found her a good match, once she has her own family and responsibility, she won’t be like this anymore.”
Nan Fengguo valued family stability above all. In his mind, only with stability could success follow. A chaotic home meant failure.
Her words soothed him greatly. “You’ve grown more sensible,” he said. “Keep it that way. Focus on a proper life—don’t dabble in nonsense.”
He shot Nan Qingqing a hard look. She immediately dropped her head, fingers gripping the table edge in impotent fury.
Nan Xiao pressed her lips, allowing a fleeting smile.
Xie Chengyu ate quietly, but his gaze flickered toward her more than once, carrying an unfamiliar trace of surprise.
He had always thought of Nan Xiao as gentle and meek. He hadn’t expected this side of her—so deft, so calculating. Was this really the same woman?
…
That night, the two naturally shared a bed.
They had already done so twice before; the awkwardness had dulled, or at least they no longer showed it.
Nan Xiao stayed up to revise a script while Xie Chengyu showered. When he came out, he teased, “What happened back there? Were you possessed?”
Nan Xiao blinked, then realized his meaning. She sighed. “It’s just something I had to do.”
As a child she had been timid, always bullied by Feng Yun and Nan Qingqing.
At ten, Nan Qingqing had slashed her face with a knife. For complicated reasons, she hadn’t told Nan Fengguo right away. By the time she did, after his return from overseas, Nan Qingqing denied it.
Having swallowed too many silent losses, Nan Xiao had grown up teaching herself to fight back—strategically.
“I’m going to shower. Rest if you’re tired.”
She carried her towel and sleepwear into the bathroom, locked the door, and stepped under the showerhead, warm water cascading down as she closed her eyes.
