It is difficult to put into words the sour expression on Wang Xia's face after hearing her daughter's proposal; perhaps the only somewhat similar look would be that of someone who had tried to break the world record for eating lemons and failed.
And how could it have been otherwise? After all, Liu Zihan, her own daughter, was showing her utter contempt while praising her rival to the skies. Furthermore, Wang Xia found the comparison inherently unfair: it was like determining who is better between a rock climber and a swimmer through a mountain-climbing competition; naturally, the former would win.
So, why should she feel inferior to Liu Fengying's mother just because the woman excelled in one particular field? There were plenty of areas where Wang Xia outmatched her by a long shot—for instance, in communication and interpersonal relationships (or more accurately, in seducing men). Moreover, judging by her husband's reactions, she was certain she was more flexible than her rival as well.
As for her daughter's view that her plans were immoral, Wang Xia didn't take it seriously; she simply told herself that the girl was still too young to understand how the world really works. After all, how many have reached high positions without stepping over bodies? Probably not even 1%, and of those, 99% likely had favorable conditions for success; Wang Xia was certain that without her background—which allowed her to network with both academic elites and important business figures, as well as to easily secure capital for starting a business—it would have been nearly impossible even for Liu Fengying's mother to reach the same heights, regardless of how brilliant her brain was. More likely, she would have ended up as some obscure researcher hidden in a mediocre company's lab, unknown to anyone.
Besides, it wasn't as if a hard life awaited Liu Fengying, even if she had to give up the inheritance left by her mother. Even without the popularity she gained after her recovery, there were surely plenty of good families who would have wanted her as a daughter-in-law to get closer to their family. Honestly, Wang Xia considered this an enviable situation; if she had enjoyed similar conditions, would she have ever been forced to be a mistress for more than 10 years?
However, there was one thing she did take seriously—or rather, was forced to take seriously: the violence of Liu Zihan's reaction. It was clear to her now that she could not rely on her daughter to help control her half-sister.
Wang Xia wasn't sure why her daughter hadn't been moved by her words at all; after all, she knew how upset the girl had been after Liu Fengying left home. The greatest unknown was her current attitude toward her half-sister; Liu Zihan's outburst hadn't been strictly about Liu Fengying, but rather an expression of dissatisfaction toward Wang Xia herself.
Did she still care deeply for her half-sister, keeping her distance only to avoid hurting her? Or was she so embittered that she refused to bow her head? Wang Xia couldn't tell which scenario was more likely.
On one hand, she didn't truly understand the concept of a close friendship between two girls. Sure, it wasn't as if she didn't have female friends, but those relationships were limited to gossip and fun; she had never believed she could trust any of them 100%. The reason? Likely because she subconsciously saw herself in competition with all women. It was like two tennis players training and relaxing together: no matter how well they get along, they don't expect mercy from one another in an official match.
On the other hand, her daughter and Liu Fengying had been unusually close—perhaps closer than biological sisters. Initially, Wang Xia thought this was because her daughter had inherited her talent for flattering the powerful, but over time she realized the girl was actually sincere toward Liu Fengying. Yet emotions are unpredictable and immeasurable; worse, they are unstable, capable of shifting from positive to negative at any moment. Because of this, it was impossible for her to discern what the two felt for each other now.
But even if she couldn't use her daughter to control Liu Fengying, all was not lost. She was certain her husband had the necessary tools to rein in her stepdaughter. Granted, this would make it harder for her to direct the course of events, but she was convinced that as long as she kept whispering in his ear, she would achieve the desired outcome.
Furthermore, even if her daughter refused to contribute directly to her plans, it didn't mean she couldn't contribute indirectly. For these reasons, she tried to suppress her emotions to avoid saying anything that might further chill her relationship with Liu Zihan.
"Even if you are upset, that doesn't give you the right to mock your mother's efforts..." Wang Xia began, her voice taking on the tone of a wounded party. "After all, people aren't born equal; it's only natural for some to go further than others. But how many have been capable of making the kind of leap up the social ladder that I have?"
Still, she did not let herself wallow in lamentation for long; after taking a deep breath, she regained her calm composure, like a mother quickly overlooking the mischief of a small child.
"Anyway, let's put these matters aside... I see this discussion isn't to your liking. Since we've rarely had the chance to talk lately, I want us to have a pleasant time together..."
Liu Zihan was caught off guard by how quickly her mother backed down. Even though it seemed like she wanted to avoid a conflict, Liu Zihan had expected her to continue wallowing in self-pity for a while longer. Honestly, this didn't make her feel relieved—quite the opposite; she suspected her mother had something else up her sleeve.
Sure enough, this time her mother didn't waste any time before making her intentions known.
"Hanhan, I heard that a boy at your school is very interested in you. What's your opinion of him? Do you think he's handsome?" Wang Xia asked in a teasing tone, sounding more like a friend or an older sister than a parent.
Unlike the topic of Liu Fengying, which couldn't be broached without irritating her daughter, Wang Xia believed that discussing a boy who liked her would be much easier. After all, what girl doesn't feel flattered by her admirers? She was certain she would see her daughter blush. Thus, Wang Xia didn't feel the need to approach this subject with her usual delicacy.
However, Liu Zihan's reaction was nowhere near as enthusiastic as her mother expected:
"I haven't paid attention to such things; the teachers recommended we don't get into relationships so early, when studying should be the priority..." she replied, adopting a cautious expression. It was as if she were facing someone trying to lead her down a dark path.
But Liu Zihan's reaction wasn't just figuratively theatrical—it was literally so, as she wasn't being entirely honest about her stance.
First of all, she knew exactly whom her mother was referring to: a boy in his senior year who had transferred to her school at the beginning of the semester. Although he wasn't exactly an academic genius, he was tall and handsome, possessing the kind of looks that could eclipse many stars if he were near them. Despite this, he had a kind personality; he was someone you could rely on, yet he also knew exactly when to crack a joke. Given these qualities, it was no wonder it only took him a few days to claim the title of the school's "young grass" (a young man with a crowd of female admirers).
Of course, Liu Zihan didn't believe her mother had been won over by this suitor simply because of his excellence, but rather because of his background. Specifically, he came from a family with deep roots in the political world: his father held an important administrative position in the city, and even more impressively, one of his uncles was a member of the national government. For good measure, his mother had been a famous actress in the past—the serious kind, who had won many awards for her talent and enjoyed great popularity among the heavyweights of the entertainment industry.
Imagining her mother already rubbing her hands together, calculating how many doors would open for Zihao if she were to become the daughter-in-law of such an influential family, Liu Zihan felt her anger—which had barely subsided after her previous outburst—threatening to boil over again.
However, rather than opposing the idea of a relationship for her own reasons, she thought it better to blame the circumstances, thereby seizing the moral high ground. Now, what could her mother do? Try to corrupt her by advising her to chase boys instead of focusing on her studies?
Honestly, Liu Zihan expected exactly that from her mother, but she was curious to see what kind of arguments she would use to justify her position. More to the point, it was a new chance for her mother to put herself in a ridiculous position.