When Gong Ze shook hands with Qin Chuan, he felt a secret scratch against his palm. His eyes held a knowing, amused look as they met Qin Chuan’s. Qin Chuan shuddered, his face flushing an even deeper red.
His urge to talk to Gong Ze was so overwhelming it almost burst out of him — but with so many people around and the wrong setting, he could only suppress it.
Wang Liben, standing behind Gong Ze and Sang You, watched Qin Chuan with confusion at first, which then exploded into intense fury and murderous intent.
Wang Liben lowered his head, his expression terrifying, his fists clenching tightly.
Yan Zhenzhen couldn’t even compare to Sang You.
Sang You was pure white from being sheltered by his family, but in truth, he was an excellent student with good character.
Yan Zhenzhen was purely a pretty vase — and even that, placed next to Sang You, was reduced to ‘just a vase.’
Not only was she brainless, but she also lacked any of a woman’s natural sensitivity and keen observation.
Seeing Qin Chuan’s sticky, lingering exchange of glances with Gong Ze, she didn’t suspect a thing.
Instead, the moment she saw Sang You’s face, she made no effort to hide the intense jealousy written all over her own.
At the very first encounter at the door, undercurrents of emotion churned beneath the surface.
Gong Ze let out a low, quiet laugh. “Let’s go in. Why are we all standing at the door freezing? Let’s head inside.”
The real show was about to begin.
·
The moment the four of them reached the main entrance, Qin Chuan’s father came out to greet them. His eyes were reddened, but he didn’t speak. He simply grasped Sang You’s hands tightly in his, and only after a long moment did he say, “Child, you’ve suffered.”
Sang You was stunned for a moment, then his eyes instantly reddened.
“Uncle Qin.”
The warm childhood memories of his father bringing him to the Qin household to play, of Uncle Qin’s gentle manner, all came flooding back at once. With Uncle Qin’s words, any sense of estrangement vanished.
Sang You wiped his eyes, his voice thick with emotion as he choked up.
Qin Chuan’s father patted him on the shoulder, his own eyes red and sorrowful. He spoke softly to comfort him: “It’s all right, it’s all right. Your Uncle Qin and your Uncle Yan have been good friends with your father for years. His child is our child. From now on, you have Uncle Qin and Uncle Yan. We’ve got your back. No one can bully you.”
The speaker was sincere; the listener was deeply moved.
Behind them, Gong Ze found it amusing. If the Qin family had truly wanted to help Sang You, why hadn’t they done anything before?
The child is already dead, and now they bring the milk.
Sang You’s father had been dead and cold for a long time — and only now the good uncles show up.
If Gong Ze hadn’t taken over, according to the original plot, Sang You would have been tormented by the original character, kept as a plaything and confined by his side for months.
In all that time, had Yan Cheng or Qin Chuan’s father ever lifted a finger to help Sang You out of friendship?
Gong Ze had seen too many people like Qin Chuan’s father — outwardly warm and enthusiastic, as if they’d take a bullet for you, but inwardly cold and selfish, sacrificing nothing of their own benefit while spouting pretty words.
“Don’t cry. You’re always so tearful.” Gong Ze narrowed his eyes, coming up beside Sang You from behind. He put an arm around Sang You’s shoulder and pulled his hand back from Qin Chuan’s father’s grasp. Lowering his head, he wiped the corner of Sang You’s eye and said softly, “If you cry any more, the skin will break again.”
Hearing Uncle Qin’s words, Sang You couldn’t help but be overcome with grief at the memories. But seeing Gong Ze made him feel like he had a pillar of support. His voice hoarse and embarrassed, he said, “I was thinking of my parents.”
“Don’t worry. Father-in-law and mother-in-law will come back safely. I will find them.” Gong Ze smiled, subtly squeezing Sang You’s hand as he spoke calmly in front of everyone. “But you should apologize to everyone. It’s the holidays — don’t shed tears and make a fuss that people will laugh at.”
“Mm.”
Sang You quickly composed himself. Thinking of how he had just acted, he blushed slightly.
Obediently, he nodded to Qin Chuan’s father, Qin Chuan, and the others. “I’m sorry. I got too emotional.”
“It’s nothing, nothing at all.”
Qin Chuan’s father spoke cheerfully, but his gaze fell on this unfamiliar live-in son-in-law of the Sang family.
He hadn’t missed the degree of control Gong Ze had over Sang You.
As soon as Gong Ze spoke, Sang You immediately calmed down — as docile as a good child clinging to its parents.
Qin Chuan’s father squinted thoughtfully. Then, shifting the conversation, he led them inside and began chatting with Gong Ze.
“So you’re Gong Ze, Old Sang’s son-in-law. Seeing how close you and Xiao You are, as his uncle, I can finally feel at ease. Ah, by the way, Gong Ze — where are you from originally?”
What an old fox.
Even your son Qin Chuan knows I grew up in an orphanage — don’t you? And you’re asking me where I’m from? You sure do love drama, old man.
Gong Ze replied, “I don’t know where I’m from. I was abandoned as an infant and grew up in an orphanage.”
“Abandoned as an infant and raised in an orphanage…”
Qin Chuan’s father stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“Yes.”
Gong Ze showed no guilt. With the orphanage director’s help, the original character’s false identity was flawless.
The Wen family’s child had been over seven years old at the time of death — the ages didn’t match.
After a quick mental calculation, Qin Chuan’s father’s smile grew a few degrees warmer.
Hearing this, Sang You’s face was full of heartache. He gripped Gong Ze’s hand tightly, afraid Gong Ze might feel wronged, and eagerly said to Qin Chuan’s father, “But Gong Ze is incredibly talented. Not only did he have excellent grades, but after he graduated, my father liked him so much he said he wished Gong Ze were his own son.”
Qin Chuan’s father laughed heartily, also putting on a satisfied expression.
“Young man, you have a bright future.”
Sang You looked up at Gong Ze proudly.
His little expression seemed to say: See? I’m good at this! I can protect you!
Gong Ze’s lips curled — a little charmed by the young master’s sweetness.
Yan Zhenzhen rolled her eyes, unable to see what was so praiseworthy about someone from an orphanage.
Qin Chuan, on the other hand, looked at Gong Ze gently and softly. “Gong Ze truly is very outstanding.”
“Excellent, excellent! No wonder Old Sang was so proud of his son-in-law. Come in quickly, come meet your Uncle Yan.”
They passed around a folding screen into a spacious living room furnished with antique-style redwood carved furniture.
A man in his fifties, unusually sturdy — broad as a tiger, thick as a bear, nearly 1.9 meters tall — sat in the left of the two main seats.
The skin visible on his face and hands was dark and tanned, but the skin faintly visible beneath his collar was a cool, pale white.
He was probably naturally light-skinned, with his face and hands simply sun-darkened.
Gong Ze raised an eyebrow.
An image of a black bear spirit with a white chest mark instantly popped into his head.
And — whether it was just his imagination or not — he felt that this man looked somewhat familiar.
Even though Yan Cheng was the guest and Qin Chuan’s father was the host, Yan Cheng was sitting in the most honored seat.
This must be Mayor Yan Cheng.
Sure enough.
Qin Chuan’s father smiled and introduced him to Gong Ze as Mayor Yan Cheng.
Gong Ze nodded to him. “Uncle Yan.”
“Mm. Sit.” Yan Cheng put down his teacup and picked up a cigarette instead. He didn’t look much like a mayor — more like a gangster boss.
He showed neither warmth nor animosity toward Gong Ze.
On his dark, weathered face, wrinkles and sagging muscles gave him a very imposing, slightly fierce appearance.
“Your Uncle Yan is just like this. Don’t be afraid of him. Sit down.”
Qin Chuan’s father waved his hand in a genial, easygoing manner.
Everyone took their seats.
At this point, Gong Ze had Wang Liben, standing behind him, hand the gifts he was carrying to the Qin family’s auntie. It was then that Qin Chuan’s father and Yan Cheng noticed there was another person.
Qin Chuan’s father was startled for a moment when he saw Wang Liben. He felt that the man looked very familiar.
But Yan Cheng, who had been glancing around casually, went rigid the moment his eyes landed on Wang Liben.
“You!” Those eyes — not particularly clear, slightly yellowish — stared fixedly at Wang Liben. Yan Cheng completely lost the commanding presence he had just a moment ago. He shot to his feet. “Who is he?!”
The loose flesh on Yan Cheng’s face quivered. He looked agitated.
Seeing him behave so strangely, turning his head back and forth, Qin Chuan’s father called out in confusion, “Old Yan?”
His daughter, Yan Zhenzhen, who was standing beside him looking pleased with herself, tugged at his arm in confusion. “Dad, what are you looking at?”
She looked at Wang Liben.
“Him? Why are you asking about him, Dad? He’s just a driver for Gong Ze.”
Gong Ze, however, took in Yan Cheng’s every move. Frowning, he turned his gaze to Wang Liben.
Wang Liben knew that Yan Cheng was his young master’s sworn enemy — and the mayor who held absolute power over Black City.
Being targeted by him made Wang Liben flustered. He kept his face down, his expression rigid, but his eyes darted to the side, seeking help from his young master.
“…” Gong Ze’s face was expressionless. “System.”
The system immediately burst into tears. [I-I don’t know! It wasn’t in the plot!]
Gong Ze: …
He knew it. The plot the Main God provided was always garbage.
Nevertheless, Gong Ze stepped forward — because Sang You was already starting to look uneasy. He gave the beautiful little peacock a reassuring stroke, then stepped in front of Wang Liben, meeting Yan Cheng’s gaze.
“I apologize, Uncle Yan. He is my subordinate. If he has given any offense in any way, please allow me to apologize on his behalf and have him leave.”
Wang Liben’s expression toward Gong Ze’s back was one of deep emotion. His head lowered, the corners of his eyes reddened — like a big dog who, after being neglected for too long, was finally receiving a pat on the head from his master.
“…It’s nothing.”
After a brief moment of strange tension, Yan Cheng collected himself, settled back down calmly, and averted his gaze.
“This boy looks like a friend of mine. For a moment, I thought he had come back. But looking more closely, nothing about him actually resembles my friend at all.”
Qin Chuan’s father laughed. “Oh, so that’s it.”
Except for Gong Ze, everyone else still had a trace of doubt, but given Yan Cheng’s status and the vast gap in status and age between him and Wang Liben — there was no way they could be friends — they accepted his explanation.
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