"Go on," Li Ziqing said coldly. "Speak."
Her voice was steady, her expression unreadable, yet her eyes burned like twin blades.
The entire Li family fell into stunned silence. Even Wang Yunmei was momentarily frozen. She had expected panic, denial, perhaps even tears from the girl she thought so easy to crush. Her original plan had been simple: expose old scars, humiliate Li Ziqing into silence, and later exploit that fear to extort money in exchange for secrecy. But Ziqing's calm defiance shattered every expectation. Instead of retreating, she had invited the dagger closer to her chest.
For the first time, doubt flickered in Wang Yunmei's eyes.
Li Zian, too, remained rooted in place. Even when his uncle gestured for him to move away, he did not budge. He had no wish to dig into his mother's painful past, yet one sentence from Wang Yunmei echoed relentlessly in his mind: "Your mother will forever remain in the shadows because of you two bastards."
That accusation struck deeper than he cared to admit. If their very existence had condemned their mother to endless humiliation, then perhaps the truth was something he needed to hear.
He clenched his fists, then suddenly turned his gaze across the hall. His sharp eyes swept over the curious onlookers, the gawking faces drinking in every word of the family quarrel. Something cold settled over his heart.
"Wait, A'Qing," Li Zian said suddenly.
Ziqing looked at him, puzzled. "Brother?"
He only gave her a small nod before striding across the floor. His tall, graceful figure drew every gaze. Even the restaurant manager, who had been silently observing the spectacle with a mix of shock and guilty amusement, stiffened as the boy approached. The closer he came, the more the manager realized—this was no ordinary teenager. His looks, his aura, the casual luxury of his attire, and the cold sharpness in his eyes—this was someone formidable.
The manager instinctively glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting the boy to be seeking someone else. But no—Li Zian walked straight up to him.
"Sir…" the manager stammered, his voice dry.
Li Zian stopped directly before him, his tone polite but laced with quiet authority. "We need to settle some private matters here. Please help me book this entire floor."
The manager blinked, certain he had misheard. "T-the entire floor?" His voice cracked. He even pinched his arm discreetly to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The sting of pain told him he was very much awake.
Forcing a smile, he explained nervously, "Sir, this restaurant has only three floors, and this one alone holds fifteen private dining rooms, most of which are already serving guests. Asking them to leave would cause… significant inconvenience. And to book the entire floor would be extremely costly."
He was not exaggerating. This establishment might not match the grandeur of the most exclusive venues like those in Wuhan's Central or Southern Districts, but among the middle and upper-middle class, it was considered a mark of prestige. An entire floor's worth of business would amount to a fortune.
Li Zian merely nodded. His calm composure made the manager's pulse quicken. Then, in a clear, even voice, he said, "I'll pay two hundred thousand for the floor."
The words struck like a thunderclap. Gasps rippled across the hall, the murmurs of the crowd swelling into disbelief.
Without another word, Li Zian retrieved a sleek China Agricultural Bank card from his wallet and handed it to the manager. His eyes were cool, his voice flat, as though two hundred thousand was nothing more than spare change.
"Charge it," he instructed. "Clear the floor."
Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked back to his place, leaving behind a trail of stunned silence and the weight of a hundred disbelieving stares.
The manager swallowed hard, his throat dry, before quickly gesturing to one of the staff. Moments later, a POS machine was brought forward. With trembling hands, he carefully slid the card into the reader.
Dozens of onlookers held their breath, their curiosity and disbelief nearly tangible in the air. The machine beeped once, then again—
"Payment successful."
The electronic chime echoed crisply through the corridor.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then came the collective gasp, a ripple of shock surging through the crowd.
The manager felt cold sweat running down his back. Two hundred thousand yuan—just like that. Casually spent, without a blink, without the faintest shift in expression. He had seen wealthy patrons before, but this… this was something else entirely. He dared not dwell on his thoughts. With hurried efficiency, he and his staff began clearing the floor, apologizing profusely as they ushered out the unwilling spectators.
The crowd grumbled in protest, some still straining for a glimpse of the drama that had ensnared their attention. But the sharp aura radiating from Li Ziqing, coupled with the terrifying ease with which Li Zian had just booked an entire floor, smothered every complaint. One by one, the reluctant diners gathered their things and left.
Within ten minutes, the once-bustling floor was empty, the noise of idle chatter replaced by a heavy, charged stillness. The manager returned, his posture deferential, both hands presenting the card he had just swiped.
"Sir," he said with deep respect, his voice steady but his palms faintly damp, "the transaction has been processed. The entire floor is now yours. Please, take your time."
Li Zian accepted the card with a slight nod, his expression calm, almost indifferent—as though two hundred thousand yuan were no more than pocket change.
Relieved, the manager bowed slightly and backed away, leaving the floor in silence, a stage now reserved for the storm that was about to break within the Li family.
"Y–you… you just spent two hundred thousand yuan?" Old Master Li's voice trembled, his eyes widening in disbelief.
He had always known that Li Jianfang's family was wealthy now—he had seen glimpses, heard whispers—but witnessing Li Jianfang's son casually drop such an astronomical sum within seconds left him shaken to the core. This wasn't wealth that could be exaggerated or fabricated; this was the kind of affluence that made one's breath hitch.
Even Old Lady Li, Chen Lihua, Li Jianjun, and Li Jianguo stood frozen in place, their faces pale, their thoughts reeling.
But among them, Wang Yunmei's expression shifted the fastest. Shock gave way to fury, her features twisting as she glared at Li Zian.
"So that's it?" she spat venomously. "You're showing off your wealth? Spending money like water, just to distract us? Just to cover up your mother's shameless past?"
Li Zian's eyes darkened instantly. His sharp gaze pinned Wang Yunmei in place, his tone cold and commanding.
"Enough of your nonsense. Didn't you want to speak about our mother's past? Weren't you about to enlighten us all? Then speak. We are listening."
For a heartbeat, Wang Yunmei faltered under the weight of his gaze. Then her lips curved into a sneer, as if emboldened by sheer spite.
But before she could utter another word, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. Two younger figures came rushing forward—her other children, Li Weimin and Li Maling.
"Mother, what's happening here?" Li Weimin asked breathlessly, his eyes darting around in confusion—until they landed on the sight before him.
His idol, his older brother Li Weiqiang, was slumped in Old Lady Li's arms on the floor, his cheek swollen red, his clothes disheveled, his glare murderous as he seethed at Li Ziqing.
The image stunned Li Weimin. His proud, untouchable elder brother—beaten and humiliated?
Then his gaze shifted, falling upon Li Ziqing. His pupils contracted. Even without being well-versed in luxury brands, he could recognize that the cut of her clothes and the quiet sheen of her accessories screamed of wealth. He remembered clearly the last time he'd seen her in the mall, casually buying the latest high-end phone. Back then, he had felt disbelief. Now, staring at her refined bearing and aloof expression, he felt something else entirely: disdain.
Li Maling, standing beside him, clutched at her mother's arm, wide-eyed and shaken.
Wang Yunmei straightened, drawing in a long breath as her anger and humiliation coiled into venom. She knew what she was about to do was not good for her husband's plan. But retreat was no longer an option. Not with her children watching. Not when Li Ziqing and Li Zian dared to challenge her in front of the entire family.
She let out a bitter laugh, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"You really want to hear it? Fine. I'll tell you. Since you bastards are so eager to know the glorious past of your saintly mother."
Li Jianping immediately stepped forward, his expression dark. "Sister-in-law, that's enough. Don't twist the truth just to vent your spite—"
"Shut up!" Wang Yunmei snapped, her voice shrill with fury. "Truth? You dare talk about truth?"
She turned her glare back to the twins, her voice dripping with venomous mockery as she began her tale.
"Sixteen years ago… when your second uncle Jianjun married Chen Lihua, her family spared no expense on the wedding. The whole town celebrated. It should have been a time of joy. But what happened instead?" Her eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Your mother, Li Jianfang, disgraced the Li family before everyone."
Her gaze glittered with malicious delight as she continued, her voice rising with every word.
"She seduced Chen Lihua's younger brother with those fox-like looks of hers. The boy's heart was ensnared instantly. He even wanted to marry her, to give her a proper name and a respectable home. But what did she do? That ungrateful wretch spat on the family's goodwill. She was barely eighteen, uneducated, a dropout, yet instead of marrying decently, she ran off! To Shanghai, of all places—chasing wild dreams and rejecting the care of her family."
Old Lady Li gave a cold, disdainful snort at the memory. She had already negotiated a fine bride price for Li Jianfang, but the girl had ruined everything with her stubborn rebellion.
"Yes," Wang Yunmei pressed on triumphantly, her tone cutting like a blade, "she disappeared for a whole year. And when she finally crawled back, what did she bring with her? A swollen belly! Pregnant with twins. No husband. No name. No dignity. Tell me—what could possibly be more shameless than that?"
Her laughter rang through the corridor, sharp and merciless, slicing through the tense silence.
"She wasn't tricked. She wasn't forced. Every choice she made, she made of her own free will. And because of her selfishness, because of her disgrace, people whispered about our family for years. Do you have any idea how much humiliation we endured? How many times we were forced to lower our heads? All because of her. All because of the mother you two hold in such high regard."
Her chest heaved, her face flushed red with venomous passion. She had twisted every fragment of the past, darkening shadows into sins, weaving her words into a spear aimed directly at Li Ziqing's heart.
Seeing the girl's pale face, Wang Yunmei smirked with satisfaction. She struck again, her voice cruelly steady.
"And don't think you can claim she was forced. I don't believe it, and neither would anyone else. An eighteen-year-old girl, barely through middle school, surviving alone in Shanghai for an entire year in the 1980s? When millions of college graduates couldn't even find work after the country opened up? Tell me—how could your mother possibly have survived? Unless…" she leaned forward, her smile turning vile, "unless she did something shameful?"
Li Jianping's face darkened with fury. He stepped forward, his voice booming with rage.
"Wang Yunmei! Don't you dare slander my Jie! If you keep spewing filth, I'll forget you're my elder sister-in-law and I won't hold myself back."
He turned desperately to his niece and nephew, his voice softening, almost pleading.
"An'an, A'Qing… let's go. There's no need to listen to this poison. Your mother—I know her better than anyone. She would never betray her morals. Never. You don't need to hear another word of this nonsense."
He reached out, grasping their hands firmly, pulling them toward the exit.
Li Ziqing and Li Zian, their faces pale with fury, clenched their fists but said nothing. In their hearts, they too never doubted their mother's integrity. They knew Wang Yunmei's words were venom, nothing more.
Wang Yunmei spat on the ground, her face contorted with rage.
"You insolent bastard! Did you forget I'm your elder sister-in-law? How dare you call me filthy? And if you're so sure about your precious sister's virtue, then why not stay? Why not argue with me here and now? Why run away like cowards?"
Her eyes then darted back to Li Ziqing, who had turned to glare at her with silent, simmering hatred. She let out a laugh that was more like a snarl and unleashed her most vicious strike.
"And you… you fatherless brats." Her voice was low, poisonous, every word a dagger. "Do you think you're not the reason your mother suffered all these years? If only she had aborted you in Shanghai before dragging herself back here, wouldn't her life have been easier? She could have started anew. But instead, she carried you two burdens—her chains, her shame. Remember this—it wasn't anyone else. It was her own choice, and it was you, the two of you, who ruined her life."
Her words fell like a curse, reverberating through the air, breaking something deep within Li Ziqing's chest.
Li Ziqing froze as if someone had cut the air from her lungs. Jianping, still holding their hands, felt the subtle resistance — the small, rigid weight of a niece suddenly gone still. He glanced down: Li Ziqing's face had drained of color; a single tear tracked slow and bright down her cheek. For a moment he thought the entire world had narrowed to that quiet drop.
No… She couldn't possibly be believing Wang Yunmei's venom. His elder sister had always told him, again and again, that her twins were heaven's blessings, the light that gave her the strength to survive. She had never spoken of them as burdens, never once.
Jianping's throat worked, words of comfort fighting to escape, but when he saw the stiffness in Li Ziqing's frame—the way her shoulders quivered under the weight of unshed pain—he faltered. He opened his mouth, but the words stuck fast, leaving only a choked silence.
Before he could force himself to speak, a voice cut through the corridor like a blade.
"Wang Yunmei, have you finished spewing your filth? Close the lid on that sewer, will you?"
The words cracked across the corridor like a whip, echoing sharp and unyielding.
Every head turned.
Two figures stood at the doorway, framed by the soft light spilling in from the lobby beyond. One was tall and graceful, her poise unmistakable even in the plainest attire. The other, younger and sharper, exuded a cold elegance that seemed to freeze the very air stood alert.
Li Jianfang and her personal Chauffeur An Lizi.
For one suspended heartbeat, silence descended on the corridor.
___
Author's note:
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for every power stone, every comment, and every moment of patience you've shown — especially Kulsum_Bano, Rheamea_Inso, Nayab_Profile, mwansa0 and P_Lilly. Your support keeps this story alive. ❤️
Also: I promised four chapters this weekend — and yes, another chapter will be published today. Thank you for reading; I hope the next part keeps you turning the pages.