Chapter 163 Remarriage

"Tingzhou, I know you have grievances against me, but now is not the time to talk about that. The Zhou family has already softened their stance, as long as you are willing to cooperate..."

"Not interested."

Chen Yun gripped her phone, frozen in place, unable to recover for a long time.

The moment the screen went dark, she felt as if all her strength had been drained away.

She looked down at her phone, which had gone dark, and her eyes gradually welled up with tears, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

After a long while, she slowly squatted down and buried her face in her knees.

—

Yuan Peipei's nausea has lessened considerably in the past few days, and she sent a message to Song Zhiwei.

[Zhiwei, Aunt Xie came again yesterday.]

She sat by the bay window, the morning light shining on her face, holding a cup of warm lemonade in her hands.

The churning sensation in her stomach finally subsided, and she felt much more relaxed.

But the thought of that uninvited figure from yesterday made him frown again.

He tapped his fingers lightly on the screen and briefly explained the situation.

After a while, my phone vibrated.

Upon seeing this, Song Zhiwei's brows immediately furrowed: "She didn't give you any trouble, did she?"

Since moving out of the Yuan family home, her biggest worry has been that someone will come knocking on Mengxi's door and bother her.

Yuan Peipei: [No. I told her you moved, but she didn't believe me. She searched the whole place and couldn't find a single hair of yours, then slunk away.]

Recalling yesterday's events, Yuan Peipei couldn't help but smile.

[Now you should give up, you won't be coming back.]

After typing this sentence, Yuan Peipei sighed softly.

She tilted her head back and took a sip of lemonade; the sour taste made her a little more awake.

Although he said it so casually.

But she knew that Aunt Xie was the kind of person who would never give up easily.

As long as there's any sign of trouble from the Yuan family, she'll always buzz around like a fly.

Song Zhiwei breathed a sigh of relief: "That's good. How are you feeling? Are you still feeling unwell?"

Her fingertip hovered over the send button for a few seconds before pressing it.

In fact, she knew better than anyone how much pressure Yuan Peipei had been under during this period.

The news of her pregnancy has not yet been made public, but rumors are rampant, and there are undercurrents within the family.

If you're not careful, someone will seize on your weaknesses and make a big fuss about them.

Yuan Peipei: [Much better, I hardly feel nauseous anymore.]

She smiled, replied, and then casually put her phone aside.

"Let's wait a little longer. Once everything has settled down, we can stand openly in the sunlight."

The two were chatting enthusiastically when their phones chimed again.

Yuan Peipei glanced back, her gentle expression instantly freezing.

The new message sat alone at the top of the dialog box.

Breaking news: [Ms. Yuan, do you have any plans to come to the hospital for a follow-up check-up soon?]

Sender: Liang Yixuan.

She remembered the last time she saw him was three months ago in the hospital corridor.

His eyes were filled with complex emotions, and he hesitated to speak, finally only saying something in a low voice.

Have you really thought this through?

Didn't we change doctors last time?

Why is he bothering us again?

Yuan Peipei's fingers gripped the edge of the phone tightly.

She had clearly been transferred to another gynecologist, and all her information had been anonymized.

She didn't understand how Liang Yixuan had found her contact information.

After hesitating for a few seconds, she replied, "No need, thank you Dr. Liang. I'm fine, no need for a follow-up examination."

Liang Yixuan stared at his phone screen, his gaze gradually darkening.

Why are you avoiding me like this? Are you feeling guilty?

The office was dimly lit, with the blinds half-closed.

He sat in front of the computer, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, and it took him a long time to type out this line of text.

He knew she was running away, and he knew she didn't want to face the past.

But the more he did this, the less he could let go.

Yuan Peipei almost burst out laughing.

What does it mean to "feel guilty"?

Does not seeing a doctor who has long since ceased to be responsible make her a moral fugitive?

She sneered and quickly tapped the other person's chat window.

Does this guy really think he's a screenwriter?

Why do I feel guilty about changing doctors when I'm sick?

She didn't reply, blocked me, and deleted me cleanly.

She closed her phone, shut her eyes, and sat quietly by the window for a long time.

—

On Friday, Sheng Tingzhou went back to the old house.

The sky was overcast, and a light drizzle fell.

He walked into the courtyard holding a black umbrella, his leather shoes stepping over the wet steps.

The air was filled with the scent of damp earth, mixed with the faint fragrance of osmanthus.

This old house, passed down from his ancestors, holds most of his childhood memories.

Now it's more like a ritualistic entity.

A traditional Chinese courtyard with carved beams and painted rafters.

Pavilions are scattered about, and the water murmurs softly.

After passing through the long, winding corridor, we entered the main hall, where Sheng Zhengfeng and Qiao Yuru were sitting.

Beside the mahogany octagonal table, a purple clay teapot emitted wisps of steam.

Sheng Zhengfeng sat upright in the main seat, his expression solemn.

Qiao Yuru wore an elegant cheongsam, her face gentle, and she held Buddhist prayer beads in her hand.

She appeared calm, but was actually secretly observing her son's every move.

They had already heard the recent rumors about Sheng Tingzhou's marriage to the Zhou family, and they summoned him back today specifically to ask him about it in person.

He casually draped his coat over the sofa armrest and lazily called out, "Dad, Mom."

Sheng Zhengfeng glanced at him.

"What have you been busy with lately? I haven't seen you for days."

As the chairman of the Sheng Group, Sheng Zhengfeng is accustomed to being in control of the overall situation, including his son's life trajectory.

He dislikes uncertainty.

I especially dislike the fact that Sheng Tingzhou's whereabouts have been a mystery lately.

Sheng Tingzhou crossed his legs, leaned back on the sofa, and smiled nonchalantly.

"I'm busy finding you a daughter-in-law."

He picked up the teacup on the coffee table and took a sip.

Sheng Zhengfeng's face darkened, his brows furrowed tightly, and a stern look flashed in his eyes.

"Give up on those messy women as soon as possible. You're not a child anymore, so don't be restless all the time and be misled by those fancy things outside."

“Your grandfather and Grandpa Chen have already agreed to get engaged after the New Year.”

He softened his tone and tried to reason with them.

"You and Chen Yun grew up together, you know each other well, your families are well-matched, she's reliable and gentle, you won't suffer in the future, isn't that perfect? ​​What's there to hesitate about?"

Sheng Tingzhou smiled gently.

"If Grandpa really wants to marry, then let him marry. Anyway, Grandma has been gone for so many years, she should understand by now. If the old man wants to find someone to keep him company, who can stop him? As the younger generation, can we stop him?"

Sheng Zhengfeng's face darkened.

"What nonsense are you spouting, kid? What right do you have to interfere in your elders' affairs?"

"I'm telling the truth."

Sheng Tingzhou remained calm.

“It’s my grandfather’s business if he wants to remarry, and I respect that. But my marriage is a different matter. Don’t use him as an excuse to pressure me.”

"Do whatever you want, just don't drag me into it."

He shrugged, his movements nonchalant.

"I'll let you handle everything else—the company, the family, the business—I'll take care of it all. But marriage? That's my life, no way. I won't agree to it."

Sheng Zhengfeng slammed his hand on the table, the solid wood surface making a loud "bang".

The teacup trembled, spilling water all over the table.

"Marriage is not a game! Do you think this is dating?"