chapter 7

It felt like several minutes had passed, or maybe just a few seconds.

When I was starting to get impatient, Cheng Song finally turned his head to look at me.

He wasn’t entirely stupid, after all.

My recent indifference, the sudden emergence of Xu Sixian’s backer, the way everyone avoided talking about it, and even those subtle, strange glances-Cheng Song hadn’t failed to notice any of it.

But when he actually saw something that belonged to him appear on Xu Sixian, his blood rushed to his head and he nearly lost all reason.

“He Lingyue.” Cheng Song’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice almost grinding through his teeth. “What’s your relationship with him?”

Uncle Chen moved his feet. I knew what he intended to do, so I stopped him: “Uncle Chen, no need.”

Then I picked up the hot tea beside me and splashed it straight onto Cheng Song’s face.

He didn’t have time to dodge, looking utterly disheveled.

Uncle Chen handed me a tissue. I wiped my hands and asked curiously, “Who gave you permission to speak to me like that?”

Cheng Song hadn’t expected this reaction from me at all and was frozen in place.

“Listen, Cheng Song.” I tidied the leaves of the little potted plant in my arms. “I haven’t even brought up your business with that girl. You have no right to question me.”

His lips trembled, as if waking up from his own world, his furious expression turning pale.

“You know?” He hurried to explain to me, “Lingyue, me and Tang… Su Wantang isn’t what you think. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be upset.”

I replied with an “Oh”: “Are you done?”

“Su Wantang is just a young girl. I hope you can be a bit more tolerant.” He took a deep breath, as if calming down, his face dark, and the forced tenderness seemed awkward. “You’re my Fiancée. You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone else.”

I didn’t respond immediately.

Originally, I was in a good mood, even able to talk to him calmly.

But now that I think about it, my good mood had nothing to do with him.

He was just here to ruin it.

Impatiently, I asked, “Cheng Song, what do you think you are?”

Cheng Song was stunned.

He had never been humiliated by me like this before and couldn’t react for a moment.

I grew even more curious: “Have you not figured out your own position? You want me to be more tolerant, want me to compare myself to others? Even if you add up the entire Cheng Family, you’re not qualified to say that to me.”

So annoying.

I’ve always had a bad temper, and these cutting words come naturally to me.

I just never used to say them to him.

It’s like something that belongs to you-you always want to cherish it a little.

But now, I kind of want to throw him away.

“Let’s go, Uncle Chen.” I didn’t look at Cheng Song again. “To the Flower Room.”

Uncle Chen started to push my wheelchair, ready to take me away.

“I get it. Are you jealous? Are you deliberately getting back at me by finding that guy?” Cheng Song, his face still dripping with tea, chased after me. “Lingyue, I’m telling you, he’s up to no good. He always pretends to be nice to Su Wantang. He’s just a Bumpkin from some backwater…”

“Young Master Cheng.” Uncle Chen interrupted coldly. “Watch your words. You have no right to meddle in Miss’s affairs.”

Cheng Song unconsciously stopped in his tracks.

He feared Uncle Chen and didn’t say another word, just stared at me, as if hoping I’d call him back.

Uncle Chen has been with the He Family for a long time; his status is different from ordinary staff.

Even the elders of the Cheng Family bow and nod to Uncle Chen. Cheng Song is always very polite and humble to him.

Uncle Chen is my steward. Cheng Song dares to offend me, but not Uncle Chen.

After leaving the elevator, I said, “Teach the Cheng Family a lesson.”

“Yes.”

The Cheng Family isn’t stupid. They’ll know it was Cheng Song who made the mistake.

They’ll give me a satisfactory answer.

This is better than having Uncle Chen beat him up-no need for him to leave my Gallery with a bruised face, making people think the He Family is uncivilized.

Uncle Chen looked at me, a bit gratified: “Miss has grown up.”

Even my father, far away overseas, called to praise me when he heard about it.

“That kid dared to speak to you like that. He deserves a lesson.” He scolded Cheng Song first, then asked me, “But why did you suddenly go so hard on him this time?”

After all, having Uncle Chen beat him up is a small matter-he’ll recover soon.

But making trouble for the Cheng Family is a big deal, a matter of reputation.

I snorted lightly: “He called Xiaoshu a Bumpkin from some backwater, when I’ve raised him so well.”

My dad was confused: “What?”

Uncle Chen doesn’t report everything to him, and sponsoring a poor student isn’t a big deal anyway, so he doesn’t know what I’ve been up to lately.

But my dad and I often sit together and talk.

“I’ll tell you about it when you come back to the country.” I didn’t explain much. “I just think he’s blind.”