Yang Qingheng tried to force a natural smile: "No, it's just a small matter, it's nothing."
Tang Bainian's eyes darkened, and he nodded. He opened the car door for Yang Qingheng, but did not go home with her. "I think I left my phone in the car. You go back first, and I'll look for it."
"Okay, come back quickly." Yang Qingheng had been running around all day, and her hair was covered in dust. She felt uncomfortable all over, so she just took out her key, opened the door, and went inside.
Tang Bainian pursed his lips, opened the car door and sat back in the passenger seat, taking out the phone he had just said was lost from the drawer: "Secretary Qian."
"Deputy Director Tang, what are your instructions?" Secretary Qian tucked his phone into the crook of his neck and slammed the office door shut with both hands.
"Check what happened at Madam's company this afternoon," Tang Bainian said.
"Okay, please wait for me for half an hour."
The lobby of the Qiao Family Villa.
Pan Changshu presented a stack of portraits with both hands, a fawning smile on his lips: "Cousin, the matter has been completed. Please take a look..."
"Not bad." Qiao Xihe disdainfully pinched one of the cards with two fingers, examined it carefully, and a gloating look appeared in her eyes.
The only reason Yang Qingheng can still fight her now is because of her marriage and the fact that the Tang family elders can use their connections to protect her. She wants to see how she can fight her now that her reputation is completely ruined and she has lost her status as the Tang family's daughter-in-law.
A country bumpkin probably doesn't even know what aesthetics are, so he's nothing to be afraid of.
"Cousin, what about the police station and my family matters..." Pan Changshu rubbed his hands together and tentatively began to speak.
"Does the police station dare to touch my people?" Qiao Xihe scoffed, then glanced at him. "The cooperation is easy to discuss. I'll arrange for Song Hengjue to come out, and you can talk to him yourselves."
After all, it was her territory, so the man should at least give her some face.
Pan Changshu thought of the time he met Yang Qingheng at Boxiang that day, opened his mouth, and finally smiled ingratiatingly: "Then I'll have to trouble you, cousin."
It's not a proper relationship between a man and a woman, just bed partners. It's not even certain whether the news will reach Song Hengjue's ears.
Pan Changshu realized that his previous idea was unnecessary. He slapped his forehead, thought the matter was settled, and decided not to fawn over Qiao Xihe anymore. He said goodbye and left.
…………
Yang Qingheng had just finished a hot shower and came out of the bathroom, her body steaming. She reached out and opened the French doors of the balcony, only to be startled by the person outside: "What are you doing here so late at night?"
"Excuse me," Tang Bainian said, holding half a scarlet eyelash between his fingers. His lowered eyes, which lacked their usual gentleness in the dead of night, looked rather dark. He asked casually, "I'm counting on you for Mom's birthday party. If there's anything I can do to help with your company, please let me know."
"You're bringing this up again. I've been living in your house for free for so long, it's only right that I do something for you. There's nothing going on at my company, so don't worry." Yang Qingheng smiled gently, her expression so warm, but Tang Bainian inexplicably felt that she was so distant from him.
It felt like something was about to slip through his fingers.
He pursed his lips, grabbed Yang Qingheng's forearm, and impulsively said, "Yang Qingheng, if the person asking you this today is..."
He wondered if Song Hengjue were the one asking her this question today, would she still be so secretive? Would she also feel that asking Song Hengjue for help was a hassle?
But he knew what asking that question meant. Yang Qingheng wasn't stupid; if he showed even the slightest thought beyond friendship, she would definitely terminate the cooperative relationship prematurely.
Tang Bainian silently released his hand, swallowing the rest of his words.
"What?" Yang Qingheng looked up in confusion.
Tang Bainian shook his head: "No, I just wanted to ask if you mind if I smoke on the balcony."
"Smoke if you want, it's not like you're smoking in my room," Yang Qingheng chuckled, this man's manners were truly ingrained. "But didn't you not used to smoke?"
"No, someone gave it to me. I was curious about what it tasted like, so I only tried it twice. I won't smoke it again." Tang Bainian extinguished the scarlet cigarette and threw it into the trash can next to him like a hot potato.
But he realized that the woman's attention was not on him at all. She went to the closet and got him a quilt to take to the next room.
With Mu Xiaoxiao not around, the two of them didn't need to pretend and slept separately.
Organizing a birthday banquet sounds simple, but it's actually quite tedious, time-consuming, and labor-intensive.
She was busy confirming which relatives to invite, preparing invitations and delivering them to their homes, and setting up the banquet hall. From small things like desserts and forks to large-scale venue inspections, she was so busy that she didn't have time to manage much of the company's affairs for a week.
Fortunately, Zhong Yan and Sun Rong were both very capable and made all the arrangements perfectly, so she didn't have to deal with any trouble.
On the day of the birthday banquet, Yang Qingheng went to the house where Tang's parents lived early in the morning. Before she even entered the house, she heard a noisy noise coming from inside. She paused for a moment, then pushed open the door and went in: "Mom and Dad."
"Qingheng is here, have a seat." Mu Huihe took her hand, her face looking even rosier than usual, probably because she was happy.
Yang Qingheng nodded to the middle-aged man beside her: "Uncle."
Her uncle glanced at her indifferently, without responding, and instead said to Mu Huihe, "I heard that this year's birthday banquet wasn't hosted by Bainian, but was handed over to you, his daughter-in-law?"
“Bai Nian is busy. Qing Heng and Bai Nian are husband and wife, so it doesn’t matter who handles this matter,” Mu Huihe said to her younger brother, patting Yang Qing Heng’s hand.
Old man.
Yang Qingheng rolled her eyes inwardly. She understood perfectly well what the old man meant; he looked down on her because she came from the countryside.
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