Chapter 8:

Lin Qiao felt frustrated but couldn’t figure out why he had asked her to come. She was tired of staying with him any longer, so she simply said “Goodbye” and turned to leave.

Shen Qingzhou reached out and grabbed her wrist, slightly parting his thin lips to ask, “Where are you going?”

Lin Qiao tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was too strong. After several failed attempts, she gave up and replied, “Back, of course. Can’t the great Master Shen calculate that?”

He scoffed, “I’m just a Feng Shui master, not a deity. You’re overthinking.”

“Fine, then I’ve told you everything. Can you let me go now?” she asked, frowning.

Without releasing her wrist, Shen Qingzhou pulled her to a corner, away from the sightseeing visitors, and warned softly yet firmly, “This is the imperial mausoleum, a sacred place. I don’t want to do anything excessive to you, so behave yourself.”

Lin Qiao was momentarily stunned, surprised by his sudden firm tone and expression.

He let go of her wrist but grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Scared?”

She shivered, pushed him away with both arms, and hurriedly ran toward the main gate, her face flushed. Shen Qingzhou stood still, hands behind his back, indifferently turning his gaze to the back of the mountain. The summer sun was hot, but a cool breeze blew across the Tian Shou Mountains, making the scenery pleasant and refreshing.

He stood there for about five minutes before a staff member approached him apologetically. “Sorry, Master Shen. We’re very sorry to have kept you waiting. Everything is ready now. Please follow me.”

Shen Qingzhou shrugged. “It’s fine. I found something else to occupy my time. Let’s go.”

Though unsure what Shen had been doing to pass the time, the staff member felt even more favorably toward the amiable and legendary Feng Shui master. Although it had taken nearly a year to book an appointment with him, Shen was surprisingly down-to-earth and approachable—an admirable trait indeed.

Meanwhile, after leaving, Lin Qiao didn’t go directly back to the hotel but instead made a detour to a bookstore.

Along the way, she received a call from her father, who asked why she wasn’t at the hotel. She replied bluntly, “I’m buying books!”

Her father was puzzled. “Books? What books do you need? Don’t we have every kind at home?”

Lin Qiao gritted her teeth. “I’m buying books by Shen Qingzhou! Know your enemy and yourself, and you’ll never lose a battle. Wait for good news from me, Dad.”

“What do you mean ‘know your enemy and yourself’? Master Shen isn’t our enemy. What exactly are you—”

Before her father could finish, Lin Qiao interrupted, “Alright, alright, Dad. I’m driving. Let’s talk later.” She hung up quickly, and the silver Buick sped toward the bookstore with a sense of solemn determination.

At the bookstore, Lin Qiao headed straight to the section with professional books and immediately spotted a row of books on display with Shen Qingzhou’s photo on the cover. Without hesitation, she grabbed one. She bent down and saw several other books authored by him, taking one of each. She hurried to the checkout, only to discover that, although the books weren’t particularly thick, their prices were surprisingly high.

Oh well, no pain, no gain. Lin Qiao gritted her teeth and paid. She drove back to the hotel and immersed herself in studying those books day and night. However, she soon encountered a problem: the books were too advanced and complex for a beginner like her. She couldn’t understand them at all, let alone figure out what Shen Qingzhou was thinking.

She jumped off the bed and pulled open the curtains, looking out the window gloomily. It was evening, and the view outside was terrible due to smog. The air smelled faintly unpleasant, and everything seemed as gloomy as her mood.

Sighing, Lin Qiao frowned and shut the window, silently turning on the air conditioning.

Not long after, her phone on the table suddenly rang. She walked over and checked the caller ID—it was Wang Jiaqi.

She hadn’t spoken to Wang Jiaqi since the day Wang Chencheng had been escorted away by security. She had tried calling, but Wang Jiaqi hadn’t wanted to hear her explanation. After being slapped on the right cheek, Lin Qiao had no intention of offering the left one. So Wang Jiaqi calling her now was somewhat unexpected.

Picking up the call, Lin Qiao sat on the edge of the bed. “Hello, Jiaqi?”

On the other end, the woman replied, “It’s me, Qiaoqiao. Are you still at the hotel?”

“Yeah,” Lin Qiao answered. “Chencheng told you, right?”

Wang Jiaqi said, “Yes, but I don’t believe everything she said. I know her personality—she’s too childish. Don’t take it to heart.”

Although Wang Jiaqi spoke kindly, Lin Qiao sensed there was something else behind her words. However, they had been childhood friends, so even if Wang Jiaqi wasn’t being completely honest, Lin Qiao couldn’t push her.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Qiao replied gently, “Okay, don’t worry. I’m fine. Also, please explain to Chencheng that I have nothing going on with Shen Qingzhou. If she likes him, she can go ahead and pursue him. Although honestly, I don’t see what’s so great about him.”

Wang Jiaqi laughed. “Don’t say that. Master Shen is really amazing. He helped me a lot. If it weren’t for him, my mother-in-law wouldn’t have agreed to let me into the family.”

Lin Qiao scratched her head and sighed helplessly.

“Anyway, I’m not going to dwell on that. I’m calling to invite you over for dinner tonight. It’s partly to apologize for Chencheng’s behavior last time. We haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“Dinner?” Lin Qiao felt something wasn’t quite right and hesitated slightly.

Wang Jiaqi continued, “If you’re busy, we can reschedule.”

But Lin Qiao realized that Wang Jiaqi wasn’t really giving her a choice. So she agreed, “No, I’m free. My dad’s taking care of the company these days, so I don’t have to go in.”

“Great! Then come over now. Traffic might be heavy, and dinner will be ready when you arrive.”

“Alright, I’ll get ready and head over,” Lin Qiao said.

Wang Jiaqi, satisfied with the response, hung up happily. Lin Qiao washed her face and changed clothes. As she reached for an orange dress, she hesitated, recalling Shen Qingzhou’s words from that day on Tian Shou Mountain. She changed her mind and picked up a white shirt instead, muttering, “It’s not like I believe what he said. I’m just worried it might get cold tonight.”

Finding a reasonable excuse, Lin Qiao calmly changed into the shirt and paired it with a dark blue long skirt, tied her hair into a ponytail, and headed out.

Her outfit was neat and appropriate, but when she arrived at Wang Jiaqi’s house, she realized she had dressed inappropriately.

After marriage, Wang Jiaqi had moved in with Fang Zheng. Fang Zheng was quite “family-oriented” and still lived with his parents after marriage. His stepmother was none other than Shen Qingzhou’s biological mother. Therefore, Shen Qingzhou’s presence here wasn’t entirely unexpected.

Unfortunately, Lin Qiao was unaware of this connection and was momentarily stunned upon seeing Shen Qingzhou, unable to react for a while.

Shen Qingzhou sat on an expensive, intricately crafted Huanghuali chair, sipping tea. When he saw Lin Qiao arrive, he shot a sharp glance at Fang Zheng sitting beside him, who simply smiled and took a sip from his teacup.

“Qiaoqiao, you’re here!” Wang Jiaqi, playing the role of a gracious hostess, greeted Lin Qiao at the door, snapping her out of her daze.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’m late. There was traffic,” Lin Qiao replied.

Wang Jiaqi took her hand and led her inside, smiling, “No problem, you’re right on time.”

Lin Qiao nodded but didn’t speak further. Seeing Shen Qingzhou had left her at a loss for words. Worse still, his outfit today seemed oddly well-matched with hers.

Shen Qingzhou sat on the chair, dressed in black trousers and a deep blue silk shirt, wearing an Armani white leather watch on his wrist. His short black hair was neatly combed, exuding elegance and poise, with a touch of refined academic charm.

Lin Qiao glanced at herself and quietly exhaled in relief. Their colors matched so well—she hoped no one would misunderstand.

As it turned out, she was right. Wang Chencheng, upon hearing that Lin Qiao had arrived, rushed downstairs. Upon seeing Lin Qiao, she instinctively looked toward Shen Qingzhou, her gaze darting between the two. Her already sour expression darkened further.

Following Wang Chencheng downstairs was Xie Jiayi, the legitimate mistress of the Fang household and Fang Zheng’s stepmother, as well as Shen Qingzhou’s biological mother. Seeing Wang Chencheng’s expression, Xie Jiayi frowned slightly and reprimanded her sternly, “There are guests here. What’s with that face? If you don’t want to eat, go upstairs.”

Being scolded by the authoritative hostess, Wang Chencheng quickly changed her expression and smiled apologetically at Xie Jiayi. “I’m sorry, Auntie.”

Xie Jiayi ignored her and walked directly to Shen Qingzhou’s side, speaking softly, “Qingzhou, I’ve asked the kitchen to prepare some of your favorite dishes. Eat more tonight. Look at how thin you’ve become.”

Shen Qingzhou’s expression remained neutral, but his voice was slightly warmer. “Okay.”

Lin Qiao was a bit confused. Why was Fang Zheng’s mother being so affectionate toward Shen Qingzhou, as if he were her real son? But soon she found out, thanks to Shen Qingzhou.

“Mom, this is my current client,” Shen Qingzhou introduced Lin Qiao to Xie Jiayi, mainly to clarify the situation for Lin Qiao. He wouldn’t have gone out of his way for just anyone, so his actions surprised those around him.

Xie Jiayi had met Lin Qiao before. She was Wang Jiaqi’s best friend and had even been the maid of honor at Wang Jiaqi’s wedding, so she had some familiarity with her.

Seeing her son go out of his way to introduce her, Xie Jiayi looked at Lin Qiao with a hint of scrutiny. She briefly greeted Lin Qiao and then announced that dinner would be ready in five minutes before leaving the living room to prepare.

Lin Qiao chose a seat far from the crowd and began to piece together the relationships among everyone. Shen Qingzhou called Fang Zheng’s mother “Mom,” which meant she was his mother. But he and Fang Zheng had different surnames. Judging from Xie Jiayi’s expression, there was only one possible explanation.

Shen Qingzhou was her biological son, and Fang Zheng was the stepson.

As Lin Qiao was thinking, she suddenly felt the sofa sink beside her. She turned slowly and saw that Shen Qingzhou had somehow sat down next to her without her noticing.

“You seem unhappy to see me.”

Shen Qingzhou said it with such certainty that Lin Qiao was momentarily at a loss for words.

He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Miss Lin, I think your prejudice against me isn’t just about my profession.”

His words made Lin Qiao feel awkward. She glanced at him and replied stubbornly, “What prejudice? Master Shen, you’re imagining things.”

“Whether I’m imagining things or not, you know best. Tell me why.”

Lin Qiao hesitated for a moment. Seeing that he wouldn’t back down, she mumbled, “Okay, since you asked, I wasn’t that unhappy. It’s just that nobody likes being told how to live their life unless they choose to. My dad and my family are your business since I hired you myself. But could you please refrain from commenting on my personal life in the future?” She lowered her voice, hoping to avoid offending him, and shifted the blame, “You guys always talk with so much exaggeration.”

Shen Qingzhou remained calm, unaffected by her words. He gave a faint scoff and said, “It’s pitiful to be a woman—needing men yet fearing their harm, knowing men are unreliable but still choosing to marry them.”

Lin Qiao shot back with his own words, “Alright, I’m not chasing after you, and I don’t have the patience to listen to your messed-up views on love.”

Shen Qingzhou chuckled lowly, leaning closer. Lin Qiao tried to retreat but couldn’t. She could feel his breath on her neck, warm and intimate, and clearly hear his deep, sensual breathing.

“Lin Qiao, lying will cost you blessings,” he murmured.

Lin Qiao had no patience to listen. She nervously glanced around. Wang Jiaqi had somehow pulled Wang Chencheng away without her noticing. In the living room, only Fang Zheng remained, who was now on the phone with his back to them, unaware of the scene unfolding.

Lin Qiao exhaled in relief and turned to face Shen Qingzhou. Her lips accidentally brushed against his face, a clichéd moment that startled both of them. Shen Qingzhou recovered first, leaning back to his original seat with the same composed ease as if nothing had happened.

Lin Qiao wiped her lips and glared at him furiously, her mind filled with only one thought: kill him, kill him, kill him, or maybe even kill herself.