The private room of the mid-tier restaurant gleamed with polished wood, soft golden lantern light, and porcelain dishes that glistened under the glow. For most patrons of the Eastern District, this was a modest venue. But to the Li family, especially Li Jianjun, who had never set foot in anything above a street-side eatery, it felt like stepping into another world.
He craned his neck, his eyes darting over the carved lattice screens, the velvet-backed chairs, and the server pouring tea with practiced elegance. His jaw slackened. "Heavens… this place is really something. Look at those paintings—ink landscapes! They even smell expensive."
At the head of the table, Old Madam Li adjusted her shawl, her wrinkled fingers brushing over the smooth tablecloth. Though her eyes sparkled with wonder at the extravagance, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Aiguo, why spend so much money?" Her voice carried a hint of reproach, but the softness of it betrayed her indulgence. This eldest son of hers could do no wrong in her eyes.
Before Li Jianguo could respond, Li Jianjun jumped in eagerly, puffing up his chest. "Mom, my elder brother is an official now. Hosting a banquet like this? Nothing big for him. He could probably dine here every week if he wanted."
Old Madam Li's stern façade melted instantly. Pride radiated across her features, and she nodded with satisfaction. "Yes, yes… my Jianguo has always been capable. It's only right that he treats his younger siblings to a fine meal once in a while."
Across the table, Wang Yunmei's lips curled in disdain. She lowered her gaze to her teacup, but her thoughts were sharp and bitter. This bumpkin brother-in-law, always running his mouth… does he think flattery puts food on the table?
Her irritation simmered. She had already argued with Jianguo that morning about this very expense. Why throw away hundreds of yuan on a so-called "family banquet" when they could have simply cooked a meal at home? Worse, the entire gathering was arranged to curry favor with Li Jianfang—that woman.
Her jaw tightened, her nails tapping against the porcelain teacup. The memory of their last confrontation still stung like a thorn. That damned truck filled with luxury brands she had only seen in glossy magazines. That Rolls Royce that pulled up as if it belonged to royalty. Wang Yunmei still couldn't wrap her head around how Li Jianfang had stumbled onto such wealth.
She glanced at her husband's watch—cheap compared to the Patek Philippe she had glimpsed on Li Jianping's wrist last time—and bile rose in her throat. My husband, a government official, drives nothing but a Chery QQ3. And that shameless bitch, that slum rat of the Northern District, dares to own a Rolls Royce?
Her hatred burned hotter, her thoughts slipping to Li Ziqing. Like mother, like daughter… sharp-tongued and arrogant. Last time, I nearly lost face in front of the entire neighborhood because of that girl.
She pressed her lips into a thin smile, masking her rancor. Jianguo's warning echoed in her mind: "Don't provoke them unless absolutely necessary." For now, she swallowed her words, though her eyes gleamed with suppressed resentment.
On the other hand Chen Lihua sat quietly, her face composed, but inside she was seething. The more her husband fawned over his elder brother, the more disgusted she felt. Did he not understand who the true protagonist of today's banquet was? It wasn't Li Jianguo. It wasn't this scheming old couple. It was his own sister—Li Jianfang. If he had half a brain, he would be currying favor with her, not flattering a man who only looked down on him.
She didn't speak, but her sharp eyes darted across the room and caught Wang Yunmei. The woman's hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned pale. Her lips curved into the faintest smirk. A moment later, she cleared her throat delicately, drawing all attention to herself.
"Of course this restaurant is good, Jianjun," she said, her tone light yet dripping with hidden barbs. "But no matter how nice it is, it still can't compare to the restaurant your sister owns."
The entire private room fell silent. tea cups stopped just short of lips. Even Old Madam Li and Li Jianguo turned their heads to look at her in unison, with a frown at her comment.
Realizing the weight of her words, Chen Lihua forced an awkward smile and quickly added, "I only mean that I've heard… people wait in line for days, just to get a reservation there. Do you remember that old lady near the alley by the convenience store? She's close to Old Mu's couple, who attended the opening banquet of that restaurant. A few days ago she visited their new house, and she told me something shocking—that to even step foot into Jianfang's restaurant, you need a membership card. And the starting price for dining in the main hall is fifty thousand. From there, it can soar into the tens of millions."
The words had barely left her mouth when Old Madam Li almost shot up from her seat, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What? That expensive?!" the old woman nearly shrieked, her voice echoing against the carved wooden walls. "Who on earth would waste money like that? It must be some flashy scam—surely the business will collapse before long!"
Chen Lihua rolled her and leaned lazily against the chair. "Mom, did you even listen to what I just said? The restaurant's only been open two weeks, and yet the tables are already fully booked for the next two months. And the waiting list just keeps growing. If you put your name down today, you'd be lucky to dine there two months later."
A chilling silence fell over the room. Even the air seemed heavier, pressing down on their shoulders. The old couple exchanged uneasy glances, neither able to speak. For the first time, the reality of Jianfang's wealth loomed before them, impossible to ignore.
Wang Yunmei herself felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head. She had wanted to belittle Li Jianfang, to remind everyone that a self-made woman could never outshine an official's family. But the more Chen Lihua spoke, the more it felt as though her own thoughts betrayed her—painting Jianfang in a brilliance she couldn't dim.
Even Li Jianguo, who had orchestrated this very banquet, was stunned. He had long known that Li Jianfang owned the restaurant on Jiangshan Road, and he had even driven past its towering façade. He was aware of the buzz it had created in such a short time. But never—never—had he imagined it was on such a scale. Tens of millions spent on a single meal? A business thriving on that? Just how much wealth had Li Jianfang accumulated in silence? The thought unsettled him.
"Fifty thousand just to eat? And waiting two months? Only a fool would spend like that." Li Jianjun finally scoffed, his voice brimming with disdain.
Old Madam Li nodded vigorously, her lips curling into a sneer. "Exactly. It's all rumors meant to make her look grand. A business like that cannot last. Mark my words."
Her tone was sharp, but beneath her denial burned a storm of resentment. She hated every part of this charade. This banquet might carry the pretense of mending ties with Jianfang and Jianping, but in her heart, she never intended reconciliation. Why should she? She was the matriarch of the Li family. It was beneath her dignity to bow her head to the daughter she had once dismissed as worthless.
Worse still, she could not accept what her eyes and ears forced her to: that Li Jianfang was thriving—far beyond her sons. According to her, Jianfang and Jianping should remain eternally beneath Li Jianguo, submissive and obedient, contributing their gains to the Li family as a matter of course. Whatever Jianfang possessed should belong, rightfully, to them.
Wang Yunmei's lips curved into a cold sneer. She leaned forward, her voice laced with venom. "Lihua, you seem to know a lot about Li Jianfang, don't you? Tell me, are you secretly in contact with her? Don't tell me you're trying to cozy up to her now that she's rich. Have you already forgotten the past? How she rejected your brother without a second thought?"
The mention of the past was like a spark thrown onto dry tinder. Chen Lihua's composure snapped. Her eyes darkened as she slammed her teacup onto the table with a sharp clink. "Sister-in-law, don't you find your words utterly ridiculous? Why don't you take a good look around this room and ask yourself—who is actually trying to curry favor with Li Jianfang right now?"
A tense silence stretched, the air thick with hostility. Wang Yunmei's face flushed crimson. She pushed her chair back slightly, ready to retort, but before she could unleash her fury, Old Man Li's deep voice cut across the room like a blade.
"Enough." His gaze swept over the table, heavy with authority. "We are not here to quarrel amongst ourselves. Be quiet. Do not let Li Jianfang suspect anything is amiss."
His tone left no room for argument. Everyone understood his true intention tonight. The old man cared for nothing but his eldest son's future. If Li Jianfang could be persuaded to part with a few million, Jianguo's path to promotion would be smooth. And he would not allow petty bickering to jeopardize that chance.
Reluctantly, the room fell back into uneasy silence. Teacups were lifted, porcelain lids tapped gently against bowls, the only sound filling the charged atmosphere.
It was Old Madam Li who broke the calm, her face twisting with disdain. "Why isn't she here yet? Does she think she's grown wings now that she has money? Making us wait twenty minutes like this… how pathetic."
Jianguo immediately leaned forward, his voice soothing, almost coaxing. "Mom, the Central District is far from here. It takes time to get across the city. Don't worry—she'll arrive soon."
At once, Old Madam Li's expression softened. She gave a small, satisfied nod. When it came to her eldest son, her anger always dissipated quickly.
But Li Jianjun wasn't so easily placated. His brows furrowed as he muttered discontentedly, "She moved into the Central District and didn't even invite her own family to a housewarming. Not once did she show us the place. What does that tell you?"
Wang Yunmei seized the opportunity, her tone sharpened with scorn. "Housewarming? She didn't even invite us to the opening of her restaurant." Her eyes flicked to Old Madam Li's face, noting the resentment simmering there, and she pressed further, twisting the knife. "At the very least, she should have invited Mom and Dad. After all, they're her parents. Instead, she brought in outsiders—the Mu family, of all people. Shameless."
Her words landed heavily, feeding the bitterness already festering in the old woman's heart. Old Madam Li's lips pursed into a tight line, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the table. Each reminder of Jianfang's successes felt like salt rubbed into an open wound.
How she wished she could snatch everything for her son's and grandsons.
Chen Lihua, who had been quietly fuming, suddenly leaned forward and shot Wang Yunmei a cold glance. "Exactly. The last time we asked Jianfang for just a few hundred thousand to open a small business, she refused outright. Does she not care about her second brother at all? All she thinks about are her children and her precious younger brother, Jianping. But what about her elder brothers?"
As she spoke, she cast a subtle glance at her husband, Li Jianjun, her eyes silently urging him to take over.
Li Jianjun cleared his throat, his expression darkening. "Exactly, Mom. You know Weihua is already in high school. In the future, he'll be going to university, and I'm already worried about his expenses. Until when are you going to keep supporting us? I feel ashamed relying on you like this. That's why I've already made up my mind to start a business. Mom, today you must speak to Jianfang. Ask her to give me a few hundred thousand so I can finally get started."
Before the old couple could respond, Wang Yunmei's mocking laugh sliced through the air. "Brother-in-law, don't be ridiculous. Weihua has just entered high school—he still has two years ahead of him. But our Weiqiang is already in his final year. With his grades, I'm certain he'll secure admission into at least a second-tier university. Securing your eldest brother's promotion is the priority right now." She leaned back in her chair, a sneer curling her lips. "If you want money so badly, why don't you arrange another banquet and invite Jianfang yourself?"
Li Jianjun's face flushed with anger. He slammed his chopsticks onto the table, his voice rising. "Sister-in-law, how can you speak like that? Elder brother already has a stable job and steady income. You already own a house and a car. But me? I'm penniless! Other than the small house I inherited, I have nothing."
Wang Yunmei's expression turned icy, her tone cutting. "And yet you have only three mouths to feed. We have five. Not to mention, we are the ones providing allowance to Mom and Dad every month, while you—if anything—are the one taking from them. And as for your brother's job, yes, it's stable, but he only earns a few thousand. We are far more in urgent need of financial support than you are."
The room went deathly quiet. Li Jianjun's fists clenched at his sides, while Chen Lihua's face twisted with fury. Together, they turned their sharp gazes toward the old Li couple at the head of the table, waiting—no, demanding—to see whose side the parents would take.
The old couple exchanged hesitant glances, clearly caught between their sons' quarrel. Li Jianguo, who had been silent until now, noticed their unease. Straightening his back, he finally spoke with authority.
"That's enough, everyone. We didn't come here today to hound Jianfang for money—neither for me nor for Jianjun." His voice was calm yet firm, carrying the weight of the eldest son's authority. "This meal is not about loans or favors. It's about mending ties with Jianfang's family. Only when our relationship is restored can we speak of other matters. I'm certain that, when the time comes, she won't refuse. But today…" His sharp gaze swept across the room. "…today, no one will bring up loans, investments, or money. Am I clear?"
His words settled heavily over the table. Everyone exchanged looks before nodding reluctantly. Yet Li Jianjun and Chen Lihua's unwillingness was obvious, their nods stiff and half-hearted.
Old Man Li's expression darkened. "Aiguo is right. If we cannot mend our relationship with Jianfang first, then none of us will benefit. Remember this—if any of you speak out of turn today, everyone will leave empty-handed."
That warning silenced all protest. Li Jianjun and Chen Lihua bowed their heads quickly, this time with more conviction.
Old Madam Li, however, remained sulky, her lips pressed into a thin line. After a moment, her gaze softened as she turned toward her eldest son. "Aiguo, where is my A-Qiang and Mimmin? Didn't I tell you to bring everyone?" Her tone carried both expectation and indulgence, as though no scolding could ever touch her favorite grandson.
Old Man Li chimed in, frowning slightly. "Yes, where are Mailing and Weihua? Didn't we agree the children would join us as well?"
Before Li Jianguo could respond, Wang Yunmei leaned forward, her voice instantly gentler when speaking of her children. "Dad, Mailing is in the play area and Weimin is accompanying her. As for Weiqiang, he's out with his friends, but I've already told him to come over. He should arrive shortly."
Li Jianguo nodded, seizing the chance to boast. "Dad, Mom, you should know—A-Qiang's new circle of friends is remarkable. Most of them are children of businessmen and officials. His networking skills are impressive for his age."
Wang Yunmei's eyes gleamed with pride. "Yes, I've met them. Each of his friends owns homes in the Central or Southern Districts. They come from wealthy families. To have such connections at this stage—it's a blessing."
Old Man Li stroked his chin, visibly pleased. "Good. He should be associating with such people. In this world, connections determine everything. Staying close to these families will only bring him benefits."
Old Madam Li chuckled warmly, her earlier sour mood forgotten. "My A-Qiang has always been an exceptional boy. One day, he'll surely bring glory to the Li family. I believe he'll even surpass his father."
The conversation shifted entirely, the table now alive with talk of Li Weiqiang—his friends, his prospects, his bright future.
But in one corner, Chen Lihua sat in silence, her smile frozen, her hands clenched beneath the table. Consistent, aren't they? she thought bitterly. Always forgetting there's another grandson. Always forgetting my Weihua exists.
Her eyes flicked toward the door, hoping to see her son appear. The corridor remained empty. A sigh escaped her lips as she turned toward her husband. Li Jianjun, however, was laughing along, wholly immersed in the conversation, eager to share in his elder brother's glow.
Resentment flared hot in her chest. Her useless husband—spending his days idling, playing mahjong, contributing nothing—had long since given up any fight for their son's future. If not for the household chores Weihua was finishing at home, he would have been here already. Yet even if he came, she knew all too well how invisible he would remain in this family.
Her gaze swept across the room once more. The contrast was stark—Jianguo's son, praised and exalted, held up as the family's pride; her own son, dismissed, overlooked, forgotten.
Chen Lihua's nails dug into her palms as her fists clenched tighter beneath the table. If I want to secure a future for my son, I cannot rely on this family. Not on these people. Not even on my own husband. I will have to fight for him myself.
Outside the mid-tier restaurant, the hum of engines broke the quiet evening. A sleek Mazda RX-8, painted in a gleaming metallic red, rolled to a stop at the curb. Behind it came three more cars in quick succession—a Hyundai Tiburon, a Toyota Celica, and a Mitsubishi Eclipse. They weren't top-tier luxury models, but for boys barely out of high school, these machines were enough to draw stares.
One after another, the doors swung open. Seven young men climbed out, their branded sneakers tapping against the pavement. The air was filled with the faint smell of cologne mixed with gasoline. They glanced around, eyes narrowing as they took in the wooden plaque of the restaurant, the modest exterior, the families entering in plain attire.
A tall boy with sharp features wrinkled his nose. "Weiqiang, are you sure this is the place? It doesn't look like somewhere you'd want to be seen."
Another chimed in with a scoff. "Exactly. Look at it—so cheap. Why on earth would you bring us here?"
Their gazes shifted toward the boy standing slightly behind them, his posture uncertain, shoulders drawn as if he wanted to shrink from their scrutiny. He wore a bright blue T-shirt with a bold logo splashed across the chest—branded, though anyone with a sharper eye could tell it was a second-hand piece. His jeans, slightly faded, bore the stitching of a well-known label, but the cut was a season too old. On his feet were sneakers that imitated a popular designer style, the shine a little too forced, the emblem just off enough to betray their knockoff origin.
This was Li Weiqiang, eighteen years old—the eldest son of Li Jianguo, and the eldest grandson of the Li family.
Under the weight of their stares, his throat tightened. He shifted from foot to foot, his fingers brushing nervously over the frayed edge of his pocket. Finally, after a moment's hesitation, he forced a smile.
"You've got it wrong," he said, his voice cracking slightly before he steadied it. "I'm not here to eat. I'm here to meet some relatives." His eyes darted toward the restaurant entrance before quickly lowering again. "They're… a little poor, but what can I do? Family ties must be maintained. My father insists."
A boy with gelled hair sneered openly. "So that's it. Relatives. Hmph." He cast a disdainful glance at the restaurant. "Weiqiang, it's fine if you want to play the dutiful grandson, but you really should think about your status. A man of your background shouldn't be lowering himself here."
Another laughed mockingly. "Exactly. You should also be careful. Relatives like these? They're nothing but leeches. Once they latch onto you, they'll suck you dry and never let go."
The words stung, but Weiqiang quickly nodded as if in agreement. "You're right. I'll definitely talk to my father about this," he said earnestly, pretending to consider it seriously.
The tall boy folded his arms, his tone turning casual yet cutting. "And another thing—you should really think about getting your own car. Always tagging along with us like this is inconvenient." He tapped his wristwatch and smirked. "Anyway, we'll keep going. Let's meet later at the usual spot."
For a moment, Weiqiang's body stiffened. The word car echoed in his head like a hammer striking an old wound. His smile faltered, but he caught himself quickly, forcing his lips back into place. He nodded stiffly. "Of course. I'll see you in the evening."
It had only been three months since he stumbled into this circle of friends. Three months since he was introduced through a distant acquaintance. At first, they had dismissed him outright—a plain boy with no car, no branded clothes, and little to brag about. But everything changed when they learned who his father was: an official in Wuhan's Municipal Department, a man with a respectable post. Suddenly, the disdain in their eyes had shifted to interest. Invitations followed soon after, and he had eagerly accepted every one.
From that moment on, it was as if a door had opened to a world he had never known. Afternoons spent lounging in coffee shops, evenings racing down highways, nights glittering with neon lights and loud music. They wore luxury brands, laughed with careless ease, and carried themselves as if the world belonged to them. For the first time in his life, Li Weiqiang felt as though he was living the way life should be lived.
But every step he took into this glittering circle reminded him of the cracks beneath his feet. His clothes were ordinary. His allowance, limited. And worst of all—he had no car.
The others never said it outright, but he could see it in their eyes, in the casual way they tossed him the passenger seat, in the offhand comments about "independence" and "keeping up appearances." More than once, he had felt like an accessory rather than an equal.
Two months ago, he had finally worked up the courage to ask his father for a sports car. It hadn't gone well. His father's scolding still rang in his ears: "Do you think money falls from the sky? You're barely eighteen. Stop dreaming and focus on your studies!"
At first, he tried to excuse himself to his friends—claiming he wasn't yet old enough for a license, that his father was strict. Back then, the excuse had been valid. He had been seventeen. But now? He had crossed the threshold. He was eighteen, an adult. That excuse had crumbled into dust.
And still, there was no car.
He pressed his lips together, fighting the humiliation that burned in his chest. If they ever found out the truth—that he couldn't even afford a second-hand sports car, let alone a new one—they would surely laugh. Worse, they would cast him aside.
Li Weiqiang looked back at the restaurant, the glow of lanterns spilling out into the night. His jaw tightened. No. I can't let that happen. One way or another, I'll get the car. I'll secure my place among them. Even if it means fighting my way.
Li Weiqiang was still lost in his own thoughts, when a sudden knock on his head jolted him back to reality.
"What's wrong with you? I've been talking to you," one of the boys said, irritation flashing across his face.
Weiqiang blinked, rubbing the spot where he'd been hit, forcing a sheepish smile. "Ah—sorry. I was… distracted. What were you saying?"
The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Nothing important. Just be ready tonight—we're heading somewhere nice. Don't embarrass yourself by being late."
As the group began to disperse, tossing casual goodbyes over their shoulders, the tall boy who often acted as their leader paused mid-step. His eyes locked on something across the street. For a moment, his usual arrogance slipped, replaced by a stunned expression that almost seemed vulnerable.
Weiqiang frowned, puzzled, and turned to follow his gaze.
The tall boy's lips parted slightly, his voice dropping into a murmur, almost reverent. "So beautiful…"
His eyes, usually sharp with disdain, softened, reflecting shades of violet and pink under the shifting sunlight, as though he had been struck by something unearthly.
Weiqiang's gaze finally landed on the figure that had captured such awe, and his own breath caught in his throat. His heart skipped a beat, not because of beauty, but because of recognition.
"Isn't that… my cousin?" he muttered under his breath, disbelief widening his eyes.
___
🌸 Thank you so much for the power stones, Kulsum_Bano and anonymous_girl_7411. Your support truly means a lot to me.
💖 A special thanks to anonymous_girl_7411 and Azion_Bari_4341 for your encouraging words—I really appreciate the love and motivation. Welcome to my novel world, I'm so glad to have you here! ✨