Chapter Eighteen: Cuckoo in the Nest

Qiao Yuan suddenly turned his gaze

The line was pulled back from the void and landed on Uncle Chen's old face, which was full of worry. The bloodlust and gloom in his eyes had not yet faded, but the corners of his lips had already been pulled into an extremely cold arc.

"Sato Ichiro? His dog dares to make me, Qiao Yuan, wary? Liang Kuan's life should have been taken long ago. He deserved to die, who cares whose side he's on!"

Uncle Chen opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just sighed and swallowed the words of advice he wanted to say.

Qiao Yuan paused, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, piercing through the thin mist and striking Uncle Chen: "That Chen Kan... how's the investigation going?"

Uncle Chen composed himself and said in a low voice, "I asked my old friend Boss Wen to inquire at Chen Minhao's residence. Chen Minhao personally confirmed that Chen Kan is indeed the son of his elder brother Chen Minjie. He has been raised abroad all these years and has all the necessary documents and identities. On the surface... there are no flaws."

He changed the subject, lowering his voice even further, with the caution typical of a seasoned veteran: "But don't worry, Master Qiao, the investigation is still ongoing. Chen Minjie's departure was sudden back then, and many things were shrouded in mystery. Whether Chen Kan is a man or a ghost, the truth will eventually come out."

Qiao Yuan nodded. The street scene outside the car window rushed past in the morning mist, gray and hazy, just like his mood at that moment.

The car smoothly drove into the grand gate of the Qiao residence, rolled over the bluestone road, and finally stopped in front of the main building.

The car door was opened, and Qiao Yuan stepped out. The strong smell of gunpowder and the faint scent of blood on his body were immediately enveloped and diluted by the fragrance of the carefully cultivated flowers and plants in the courtyard, but they could not dispel the chill and exhaustion in his bones.

Without pausing, he walked straight into the brightly lit hall. However, before he even stepped across the threshold, a slightly shrill voice pierced the tranquility that the mansion should have been in the early morning.

"...This gauze curtain is too old-fashioned, it gives off a gloomy vibe! Change it right now! I need that kind of moon-white Suzhou-style soft gauze, do you hear me?"

Cheng Qing was reclining on a rosewood chaise lounge, her nail-painted fingers pointing impatiently. Her newly made brocade cheongsam shimmered too brightly under the lamplight. "And this chandelier, the crystal is all dusty, I can't polish it to a shine. Replace it with a new one! One of those imported from France..."

Several servants stood there with their heads down, holding the newly taken-down gauze curtains, looking somewhat helpless.

Standing to the side, when Zhang Ma saw Qiao Yuan's tall figure appear at the door, she looked at him as if he were her savior and immediately rushed over to greet him.

"Master Qiao, you're finally back!" Zhang Ma lowered her voice, her tone full of helplessness and complaint. "Miss Cheng... she ordered this and that to be changed early this morning, saying that the furnishings in the house are old and don't suit her taste. This gauze curtain was made of material personally selected by Madam... by Miss Lin back then, and it's only been used for a few years, it's still in good condition, and that chandelier..."

Zhang Ma didn't finish her sentence, but the meaning couldn't be clearer. Cheng Qing's behavior made it clear that she considered herself the mistress of the house, imperiously trying to erase all traces of Lin Jintang.

Qiao Yuan's gaze passed over Zhang Ma and landed on Cheng Qing in the center of the living room.

Cheng Qing seemed to have just noticed his return, and her face immediately lit up with a sweet smile. She swayed as she stood up: "Master Qiao, you're back! Look at this house, it's so lifeless. I'm having them tidy it up and give you a fresh start..."

Qiao Yuan remained silent. His face was expressionless, and the damp chill of the morning mist seemed to solidify between his brows.

He simply stared at Cheng Qing's exquisitely made-up face, which now seemed particularly glaring, and listened to her coquettish voice. The charcoal fire that had been burning all the way in his chest was not extinguished by the warmth of the courtyard, but rather felt as if a ladle of oil had been poured on it. With a "boom," a scorching wave rushed straight to the top of his head.

"Who gave you permission to touch anything in this house?" Qiao Yuan's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a whip tempered with ice shards. He took a sudden step forward, and the chilling aura he had just brought from the bloody battlefield poured out without reservation, causing the temperature in the living room to drop sharply.

The servants were so frightened they fell silent, not daring to even lift their heads. Zhang Ma instinctively took a half-step back.

Cheng Qing's sweet smile froze instantly, all color draining from her face. She had never seen Qiao Yuan look at her with such a terrifying gaze, a look that seemed to want to devour her alive. A tremendous fear gripped her, making her body go cold and her fingertips tremble.

"Master Qiao...I...I just wanted to..." she stammered, trying to explain, her voice trembling uncontrollably.

Cheng Qing was terrified by the bloodthirstiness in his words; the immense humiliation and fear overwhelmed her instantly. Tears streamed down her face as she covered her face, letting out a piercing sob, and turned to run upstairs, her carefully styled hair becoming disheveled.

Just then, soft footsteps came from the entrance hall.

Lin Tang is back.

She heard all of Qiao Yuan's angry words, her face remained expressionless, only her eyelashes drooped, concealing all her emotions. She paused slightly, then continued walking inside as if nothing had happened.

She didn't even glance at the main character of this farce in the center of the living room, and walked straight to the stairs with unhurried steps, her skirt swaying slightly, carrying a hint of cool fragrance.

Ah Chen followed half a step behind Lin Tang, like a silent shadow. As he brushed past Qiao Yuan, he whispered, "Madam went to the Hongkou site today. She's going to build a factory there."

Before the anger on Qiao Yuan's face could completely dissipate, it was abruptly stopped, leaving only stiffness and a hint of astonishment at being interrupted. He almost subconsciously turned his head, his gaze following Lin Tang's cold and resolute back.

“Jintang!” he blurted out.

Lin Tang stopped halfway down the stairs.

Cheng Qing was still standing at the top of the stairs, sobbing with her face covered, her shoulders heaving, looking utterly pitiful.

But at this moment, where was her image in Qiao Yuan's eyes?

His entire attention was firmly captured by the figure on the stairs.

Cheng Qing became a completely forgotten background figure, standing alone in place. Her face was streaked with tears, and the fear and grievance in her eyes, washed away by tears, quickly faded away, replaced by a cold, poisonous look of being completely ignored and abandoned.

Qiao Yuan chased after him and called out, "Jin...Tang...?"

Lin Tang stopped halfway up the stairs without turning back, but slightly turned her head, revealing her cool-featured jawline. "Is there something you need, Mr. Qiao?"

"That piece of land in Hongkou," he began, his voice accusing like quenched iron filings, grating on one's eardrums, "why spend so much money to buy it?"

“Mr. Qiao is a busy man, he doesn’t even bother to check how much money goes into the company account or how it leaves,” she said, a faint, cold smile playing on her lips, carrying a hint of barely perceptible mockery. “And now you’re concerned about a real estate investment?”

Qiao Yuan shrugged and sighed after a long while: "That piece of land in Hongkou is adjacent to the Japanese concession. The Japanese have had their eyes on it for a long time. You're going to touch that hot potato!"

Lin Tang finally turned to look at him, but after a long silence, she only said, "Qiao Yuan, you really seem like a stranger to me. Where is that upright and indomitable man you used to be? Now you're so afraid of the Japanese, fearing them so much? I earned the money in this company, so naturally I can decide how to spend it. I bought this land, and all the paperwork is in order. Besides, when did the Japanese get to dictate this Chinese land?"

“Ah Tang… I’m just afraid that because of your momentary impulse, Jiangcheng will… ruin yourself.” His voice suddenly rose, filled with an almost uncontrollable anxiety. “That mad dog Sato is just looking for an excuse to cause trouble! Do you think he cares about a land deed? He’ll only smell blood, then pounce on it and tear the Crescent Moon Gang, you and me, to shreds!”

Lin Tang looked at him quietly, her gaze like a still pool in late autumn, calm yet chilling, revealing all his anger and fear.

“Master Qiao,” she began, her voice clear and cold, without a trace of emotion, “are you afraid that Sato will take action, or are you afraid that I, Lin Tang, will jeopardize the little bit of 'peace' you've painstakingly built and compromised to achieve?” The mocking curve of her lips deepened. “When has Jiangcheng ever lacked new graves? Ever since you went to snatch food from someone else's bowl with your bare hands, ever since my unborn child turned into a pool of blood, has this grave been missing one that I, Lin Jintang, have personally added?”

She slightly raised her chin, her composed demeanor, accustomed to her position of authority and management, now transformed into an unyielding and resolute air. "I've bought the land in Hongkou. A contract in black and white, payment in cash—it's now my property, Lin Jintang's property. The Japanese want to seize it? Fine, let them come, bring their guns! As for the 'new grave' that Master Qiao is worried about, rest assured. I, Lin Tang, know my limits and will never jeopardize the 'big picture' you've painstakingly maintained. At worst, you can cede the land to me during our divorce."

But Lin Tang was even faster. Just before his fingertips touched her sleeve, she turned around deftly and walked upstairs without looking back.

As she stepped onto the last step, her figure about to disappear around the corner, she paused almost imperceptibly, but without turning back, leaving behind only a light yet weightless sentence that crashed down heavily with the cool morning air:

"Oh, by the way, if Mr. Qiao is really worried about the money spent on the land purchase and there's a deficit in the accounts, I'll try to make up for it before the end-of-month accounting. I won't make things difficult for you. As for this hot potato... since I dared to reach into the fire to snatch chestnuts, whether it's hot or painful, whether I live or die, is none of your concern, Mr. Qiao."

As soon as she finished speaking, she vanished. At the corner of the stairs, only the dust floating in the morning light and the faint, cool fragrance emanating from her lingered stubbornly at Qiao Yuan's nose, refusing to dissipate for a long time.

The living room was deathly silent. The servants were already huddled in a corner, too terrified to utter a sound.