Chapter 40 Lotus Seed Tea "Lan Jia, I will never let you go without money..."
"On the afternoon of April 16th, a tragic traffic accident occurred in the middle section of Jiangwan Road. A large truck illegally changed lanes and collided with a vehicle coming from behind, resulting in three deaths and one injury for the occupants of the sedan. The deceased have been identified as the president and his wife of the Pine Multinational Group and their driver. The injured person has been sent to the hospital for emergency treatment. The accident is currently under further investigation..."
"Affected by the unexpected death of its co-CEO, Pine's stock price plummeted at the opening today. By the morning close, the stock price had fallen by 2.14%, wiping out nearly 10 billion in market value. Several financial institutions quickly released reports expressing concern about Pine Group's future prospects and downgraded its stock ratings."
"Affected by the bad news, Pine Group's stock price continued to fall, marking the largest single-day drop in recent years. According to market news and securities trading data, several investment institutions and companies that previously had little connection have been frequently increasing their holdings of Pine shares recently, and their actions are highly consistent, suggesting that they may have formed a joint acquisition camp."
"The defendant in the drunk driving case that resulted in the deaths of three people jumped to his death before the trial began, and the trial was terminated..."
The television screen suddenly went black, and the news report abruptly stopped.
Meng Cenjun gripped the remote control in her hand, looked around, and her gaze met that of the maid who had just returned. She felt inexplicably a little annoyed.
I've repeatedly told her not to leave her alone in the room, but she still broke the rule.
Feeling guilty, Chen Ma kept her head down. When she went out, she saw that the young lady was still asleep, so she was delayed a little longer on the way. When she saw Meng Cenjun arrive, she didn't dare to say a word. She placed the several insulated rice containers that the Yi family had just delivered on the small table, closed the door, and went out.
During this special period, even the air in the ward was fragile. Meng Cenjun endured it and decided not to have an attack.
He sat down by the hospital bed and softly called out, "Lan Jia."
Lan Jia was also inexplicably angry. She pulled the blanket over her head, turned her back, and ignored him.
A moment later, faint sobs could be heard from under the covers.
Afraid that she would feel stifled, Meng Cenjun reached out and used some force to pull down the membrane, revealing half of her face, which was flushed red.
Lan Jia's tears still flowed uncontrollably, soaking her pillow. She wiped them away haphazardly with the back of her hand, and after a while of panting, she stubbornly said, "Even if I don't read the reports, those messages will still try their best to get into my ears."
During her hospital stay, all sorts of news were flying around like snowflakes. The hospital was crowded and noisy, and as long as she went out for a short walk, she would know that everyone was talking about the same thing.
As the incident continues to unfold, the wedding of the century from twenty years ago has once again dominated entertainment headlines. People are lamenting the tragic end of what was once a perfect couple. Some have boldly speculated that the car accident wasn't an accident, but rather involved some unspeakable secrets of the wealthy family. After all, a major event occurred before the wedding, but due to behind-the-scenes manipulation, these speculations were quickly suppressed.
After saying that, Lan Jia fell silent again, sullenly angry.
Everyone treated her as a newly orphaned orphan, a pitiful victim, trying every means to keep her in the dark, not even daring to speak loudly. Little did they know that she was also a party involved in the accident, the only survivor, and that she had the right to know the truth and to watch the perpetrators receive the trial they deserved!
But now, she can only be imprisoned in this cold hospital room, never seeing the light of day.
Meng Cenjun looked around; indeed, the walls were white, devoid of any color. She was ill, and the bleakness of her surroundings prevented her from having even a single flower. Lan Jia couldn't tolerate pollen.
Upon receiving the news, he rushed back from the United States overnight, but the journey was long, and he was still too late. Lan Jia had already come out of the operating room, her head wrapped in thick bandages, her hair shaved, and her body covered in injuries. Through the glass, he glanced at her hastily, not even waiting for her to wake up from her coma, as he had to rush to work with Old Madam Yi to devise remedial measures and make numerous efforts to secure funding for the company. The Yi family had supported him for ten years, and now was the time when they needed his help; he couldn't possibly shirk his responsibility.
But now that he was actually in front of her, his tense nerves relaxed, and he felt a wave of powerless sorrow.
She was so young, yet he left her all alone.
He couldn't stay at the hospital with her, and things were going wrong on his end. The building was about to collapse, not with a sudden crash, but more cruelly, layer by layer, obliterating her. He was anxious all day long, yet powerless to do anything, like a dull knife grinding his flesh, steel nails drilling into his bones. He didn't know when he would die, only that the pain was getting worse and worse, and he could still smell the blood.
He can't do anything right.
Meng Cenjun reached out and touched her head, speaking with difficulty, "Lan Jia, I'm sorry." He hated his own incompetence.
Lan Jia silently wiped away her tears before turning to look at him. After examining him closely for a while, she felt like crying again, "Brother, you have a huge blister on the corner of your mouth."
She had never seen him look so haggard.
"It's alright," he comforted her gently.
Children are sensitive and can detect subtle signs of emotional changes.
"Is our family going to be ruined?"
No, it won't.
"Then why are your eyes red..."
"I haven't been sleeping well these past few days, and I've developed blood vessels in my eyes."
How could Lan Jia not understand?
She held his hand, tears welling in her eyes, and asked, "Brother, will we be penniless in the future?"
No, it won't.
He paused, then tightened his voice, as if he had made up his mind.
"Lan Jia, I will never let you go without money."
She pouted, having cried, her face as red as a newborn kitten.
What she wanted most wasn't money, but a complete family!
For a long time afterward, Lan Jia felt deeply guilty and regretted having such an ominous thought that day.
If she could turn back time, she would rather spend the rest of her life taking piano lessons she hated than let the devil take advantage of her vulnerability and cause a car accident to destroy her home because of one act of avoidance.
However, Meng Cenjun was unaware of her guilt. He only knew that she had suffered severe physical and emotional trauma and he couldn't afford to add to her pain by causing anything else. Given the Yi family's crisis, he had to shoulder this responsibility for her sake, no matter what.
After feeding her dinner and finally getting her to sleep, Meng Cenjun wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, gently closed the door, and left.
It was pouring rain outside, and it wasn't even the beginning of summer yet. As I walked, a chill crept up my ankles.
Ten years later, Meng Cenjun stood outside the gate of the Meng family mansion once again.
After ringing the bell, it took a long time for someone to appear. They came over with a large black umbrella, and only when they lifted the brim of the umbrella could they see Meng Cenjun in the rain.
"Young Master?"
It was the Meng family's old servant who came out.
"I have something I want to see...Grandpa." After so many years, those two words were still so difficult to pronounce, carrying too many unpleasant memories. Just putting them on the tip of my tongue made me feel nauseous. But I held back, after all, he needed my help.
"This..." the maid said, hesitantly. "Master fell ill a couple of days ago and said he wouldn't see any guests."
Did they anticipate his arrival and deliberately find a reason to turn him away?
In the rain, Meng Cenjun's face was cold and pale.
Just as he was pondering a solution, he heard voices coming from the corridor: "Old Zhang, you're getting more and more senile. Is the young master a guest? Why aren't you opening the door?"
Another person hurried over with an umbrella. It was Aunt Jiang, the housekeeper. Ten years had passed, and her temples had turned gray again. She smiled when she saw him and said, "Have you been waiting long? Come in quickly."
Meng Cenjun nodded and followed her through a general's gate, through a garden path filled with greenery, and then through a second gate. In the courtyard was a grand and elegant hall with four water features. They passed by the side and walked further in, and it took them quite a while to reach the main building.
When he first set foot here with his mother as a child, he felt that this road was endless. Now, at twenty years old, he still feels that the winding road is endless and wears down one's patience.
After entering through another door, Aunt Jiang led us to the living room to sit down. The sofa was made of rosewood, and even with cushions, it was still rock hard. It was a century-old antique, getting harder with age. I bumped my forehead on the armrest when I was a child, so I still hate it to this day.
Meng Cenjun looked around. The furnishings were not much different from before, still dazzling with gold and jade. However, over the years, the intricately carved and gilded ornaments seemed to have dimmed, and most of the furniture was made of precious wood with a dark luster. Sitting here, he felt as if he had entered a gray and gloomy cave.
Aunt Jiang went upstairs to check on the old man, and soon a maid brought him a towel. Having waited in the rain for so long, his shirt was damp and he was covered in soot. He dried the water droplets from his hair, and then someone brought him a cup of freshly brewed lotus seed tea. This was probably at Aunt Jiang's request, as she noticed a blister on his lip and wanted to help cool him down.
The tea simmered, and he took a sip. The lotus seed core was still attached, and the bitterness lingered on his tongue, reaching deep into his heart.
I sat there for a quarter of an hour, and the porcelain cup with its icy patterns in my hand had gone cold, but no one came.
But since we've decided to come here, all we can do is wait.
Meng Cenjun pondered how to get back the rest of his father's inheritance. When he left the Meng family, he used the excuse that he was too young, and the old man was only willing to give him a small portion, with the rest to be paid after he came of age. Now that things had dragged on, he realized that the old man had no intention of giving him anything at all, and he hadn't seen a single penny of the dividends he was entitled to over the years.
He had never experienced the hardship of money since birth and did not understand the importance of accumulating wealth. But now that the Yi family is in crisis, no matter how embarrassing it is, he has to learn to be meticulous about every penny.
After sitting for a while, instead of the old man, an uninvited guest arrived.
"Xiao Cen." A very magnetic voice came from afar.
Meng Cenjun looked up, her gaze following the dark yellow rosewood staircase upwards, and saw a woman standing at the end.
Their eyes met, and she, wrapped in a grape-purple shawl, slowly stepped down a few paces, leaned against the railing at the corner, and started talking to him.
"It's been so many years, you've grown so much." She held a cigarette between two fingers, smiling as she looked at him. "You look more and more like your father."
Meng Cenjun searched her memory for this person, stood up, and respectfully greeted, "Third Aunt."
However, he then seized the opportunity to ask, "Is Grandpa's illness any better?"
After a moment's thought, she understood the purpose of his trip.
Third Aunt Mengxia flicked the ash from her cigarette into the small celadon-glazed porcelain cup in her hand and kindly advised, "You've come at the wrong time. He probably doesn't have time to see you right now."
He wondered to himself, "Could it be that the old man is really sick?"
But he couldn't have come all this way for nothing.
Before they could think of a solution, they heard a loud crashing sound coming from upstairs.
The sharp sound of shattering porcelain, mixed with a few shouts of arguing and cursing, reached his ears from afar.
Author's Note: The rain the day my brother went to the Meng family to ask for money was just as heavy as the rain the day Yiping went to her father to ask for money. [laughing and crying emoji]
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