Chapter 62: Golden Bell Cover

When Chen Wan returned to the Chen residence, it wasn’t Song Qingmiao who noticed first.

"A Wan, look at you, rolling up in a new car. Impressive!" Liao Liu from the second branch glanced at him with charming eyes, playing a tile on the mahjong table.

Chen Wan looked at her but said nothing.

Song Qingmiao, absorbed in the game, finally glanced up, her eyes smiling and eyebrows dancing, "BB, you’re home!"

It had been a long time since Chen Wan last saw her, and he felt an involuntary pang in his chest, his feelings were complicated.

Regarding the matter of Meng Yuanxiong, Song Qingmiao never felt she had done anything wrong. Currently, it was the peak of the power struggle within Rongxin, and each branch was exerting all their efforts in overt and covert battles. What’s the harm in her finding allies outside?

They had argued and grown cold over the phone these past few days, and now Song Qingmiao was being so affectionate towards him again, leaving Chen Wan momentarily disoriented.

Moreover, Song Qingmiao hadn’t been on the Chen family’s mahjong table for a long time. The second and third branches had joined forces to keep her at bay, hoping this eternally youthful beauty would stay locked away in the small, dilapidated Buddhist hall on the fourth floor, never to step into the main hall again.

Now, because of Chen Wan, she could once again secure a place at the mahjong table, which made people seethe.

So, Song Qingmiao was sure her fortunes were turning.

Chen Bingxin didn’t come downstairs until everyone was seated.

The uncle from the main branch gestured, "Come, A Wan, it’s been a long time since you’ve been back, take a seat by your father."

Chen Wan replied coolly, "I can sit here."

Song Qingmiao shot him a pointed glance, but Chen Wan lowered his head and sat down, pretending not to see it.

The nephew from the third branch laughed, "A Wan’s the golden boy in the crown prince’s circle now, a great hero. Who has time to come back for meals these days?"

Chen Bingxin’s clouded eyes scrutinized Chen Wan. He had heard rumors for a while that Chen Wan had latched onto Zhao Shengge’s big ship, but he didn’t believe this misfit from childhood could pull it off.

Until, at some point, outsiders began calling Chen Wan "Little Chen Boss."

"Not at all," Chen Wan said coldly, "I’m not familiar with Mr. Zhao, it’s all thanks to Zhuo Zhixuan."

"A Wan, you’re being too modest."

"I heard you also went to Ting Island."

"That counts as a heroic escort mission."

Chen Wan said, "I was just following a group—"

"Indeed," Song Qingmiao interrupted him, with a hint of triumph, "Last time A Wan accompanied me to the Tianhou Temple to worship Mazu, Mr. Zhao even came over to say hello, we chatted for quite a while. Mr. Zhao’s so handsome, not intimidating at all, and he’s really nice to A Wan."

Chen Wan froze, his gaze turning icy, and the last shred of warmth he felt for her disappeared.

Chen Bingxin, assuming the posture of the head of the family, tapped his chopsticks and said, "Let’s eat first."

The dinner table was as lively as ever, from Rongxin’s stock price to the marriage of the eldest daughter of the third branch.

The people at the bottom of the well acted like they’d hitched a ride on a luxury cruise, indulging in some nonsensical daydreams.

Chen Wan’s eyes darkened, and the evil thoughts and violent tendencies that had been suppressed deep in his heart began to stir again.

Everyone wanted to suck a bowl of blood from Zhao Shengge through him, so everyone should die.

This house feels like a prison, burdened with painful memories. No matter how many years Chen Wan has been away or how well he has cultivated himself outside, once he returns here, he becomes that devil who, with an expressionless face, stabs others with scissors.

The walls are hollowed out and hung with several Buddha statues, some gold, some jade, and some sandalwood, as if each one sees through his twisted, tormented soul, making the atmosphere suffocating. Chen Wan's hand trembles slightly, and he puts it in his pocket.

He doesn’t find the medicine box, but his phone suddenly vibrates. Chen Wan opens it.

"Picture"

"It fell at my place."

His tense nerves suddenly relax, and his heart feels steadied, as if cradled by a pair of hands. Whether it's the people, the Buddhas, or any lurking spirits, ghosts, or demons in this dark mansion, none of them can harm him in the slightest.

Chen Wan feels as if he’s been granted a protective shield, and his hand no longer trembles.

He opens the picture and carefully examines it. It's his cufflinks, likely torn off during that heated night.

Chen Wan feels his ears grow warm, and he says, "Can I pick you up today? And bring them to me."

Zhao Shengge responds off-topic: "The material is quite ordinary."

"..." Chen Wan is slightly puzzled. Although these cufflinks aren't extremely expensive, they are a classic design from a somewhat famous brand. After a moment’s thought, it dawns on him, and he says, "Next time I'll wear ruby ones."

Zhao Shengge falls silent.

Chen Wan sends another image: "Cat cat rich.jpg"

"..."

"A Wan’s so busy with his business he can’t put his phone down."

Chen Wan puts away his phone, listening to the wives from different branches trade veiled barbs or talk about Zhao Shengge, spinning some far-fetched fantasies.

During this, Song Qingmiao even serves him some food, but Chen Wan doesn't eat it. The warmth of the phone in his palm brings him calm.

A void that had been empty for years was now filled.

The harmonious dinner ends, and Chen Bingxin commands Chen Wan, "Come with me to the study."

Rongxin is now in decline, riddled with nepotism, power struggles, and a façade of glamour masking inner weakness.

The arrival of the Minglong ship is timely.

Chen Bingxin has no other skills, but he still has Song Qingmiao in his hands. Using Song Qingmiao to manipulate and control Chen Wan is enough.

It's just a matter of bringing up old issues again—Song Qingmiao's past involvement in gambling, infidelity, and other "dark histories."

A wave of intense anger surges through Chen Wan.

Song Qingmiao may be naive and foolish, but weren’t these so-called 'dark histories' also crafted by their hands? It's too easy for men to push a woman, especially a beautiful one, into the abyss and turn her into a plaything, without lifting a finger.

Song Qingmiao has her faults, but she also has her pitiful side. The most despicable and deserving of death is the tyrannical Chen Bingxin, these unshakable patriarchal forces, towering like mountains.

Chen Wan raises his eyes and calmly asks, "What do you want me to do?"

Chen Bingxin is irked by his detached and indifferent demeanor: "What do you mean, what do I want you to do? You should think about what you can do for the family. Chen Wan, I raised you for over twenty years, and this is your attitude?"

Chen Wan finds it laughable. He hasn’t even been part of the Chen family for that long—three years in Xiaolan Mountain and a year and a half in the doghouse.

But he doesn't close the door completely, only maneuvering, "Then you must think too highly of me. People outside whisper a few words, and you take it as truth? Not to mention that Zhuo Zhixuan doesn't hold power in the Zhuo family, even the current Zhuo family can't say much in front of Zhao Shengge."

Chen Bingxin didn’t expect Chen Wan to have a deep relationship with Zhao Shengge. For someone like him, just establishing a connection was already a big deal.

"In a few days, there will be an event in the high-tech zone. Bao Ying will go with your eldest brother. At that time, you can introduce her."

Chen Wan’s gaze turned icy.

Chen Bingxin, as remarkable as ever, hasn’t changed his ways over the years. He used to sell off his wife, and now he’s doing the same with his daughter.

Chen Bingxin’s intentions were crystal clear: "Take her around to meet more people. Of course, the main target is still Zhao Shengge."

The eldest son, Chen Yu, has never managed to break into that circle. Now, he’s heard that those wealthy young men still show some respect to Chen Wan.

Chen Bao Ying, the second daughter of the third wife, is the most beautiful of Chen Bingxin’s daughters. She just graduated from Australia this year, and Chen Bingxin holds her in high regard.

"And the project you’re handling with Zhao Shengge, I see that the materials sector aligns well with the new subsidiary your eldest brother has taken over. You shouldn’t let the profits go to someone else’s pocket."

Even a minor connection with Zhao Shengge is like striking gold.

Chen Wan was shocked at how naive, almost delusional, people could become in their old age: "Who is Zhao Shengge? What makes you think I can meddle in his affairs?"

"As for others," Chen Wan said, though his relationship with Chen Bao Ying was cold, he loathed such matchmaking, "they’re all business associates. There’s no personal connection. The Shen family, the Jiang family, the Tan family, which one can I speak to?"

"Chen Wan, what’s with this evasion? You’re shirking your responsibility as an elder brother. If your sister marries well, it’ll be a huge boost for you and the family."

Chen Wan stared at him coldly and remained silent.

The aging Chen Bingxin felt an inexplicable shiver down his spine. He noticed an eerie calm in the eyes of this son who had always been passive and quiet.

Chen Bingxin, who had ruled with an iron fist for half his life, couldn’t stand such a challenge to his authority. He completely darkened his face: "Chen Wan, you’ve grown wings and want to fly. But your mother’s still here. Where do you think you’re going? She has been here since she was not even twenty. Every aspect of her life is in my hands. If you truly care about her, stop defying me. Quit playing your two-faced games with me. Otherwise, if her and your past is exposed, not only will Zhao Shengge cut ties with you, but you’ll be finished in Hai City."

Chen Wan remained calm and indifferent throughout. After a moment of silence, he nodded and said, "Alright, then I want shares. Give me the ones you were planning to transfer to Chen Yu."

"I can’t help with Chen Bao Ying’s matter. As for Chen Yu," he paused, baiting Chen Bingxin, "that depends on his luck."

Chen Bingxin narrowed his eyes, his cloudy gaze sweeping over him.

Chen Wan openly allowed him to scrutinize: "You’ve allocated shares to each branch. If you want me to work for you, you should give some benefits."

Chen Bingxin scolded: "Your demands are too exorbitant."

Chen Wan turned his wristwatch: "If you give me nothing, how can I do the job?"

Chen Bingxin was frustrated that none of his sons were capable of taking on major responsibilities. Rong Xin was not what it used to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t have turned his attention to Chen Wan: "I can give you two points first, the rest depends on your performance."

Chen Wan neither agreed nor disagreed. Chen Bingxin said: "Don’t always think of playing tricks with me, Chen Wan. Your tactics are what I used to play. No matter how much you hate me, we are still family. As long as you are in Hai City, you will never escape being a Chen."

Chen Wan didn’t hide his utilitarianism and didn’t waste words with him: "When will the shares be transferred?"

Chen Bingxin was choked and said coldly: "You and your mother are really money-minded."

Chen Wan asked again: "When?"

"You!"

Chen Wan was getting impatient: "First the money, then the work. After so many years in business, don’t you understand this principle?"

Chen Bingxin angrily said: "Ungrateful son!"

Chen Wan ignored him and turned to leave.

Downstairs, Song Qingmiao was still lost in her drunken haze at the card table. Chen Wan looked at her still slender, almost youthful back, and after a moment of silence, he didn’t go over to say goodbye.

But he had already said goodbye to her in his heart.

When Chen Wan was very young, he had hoped that Song Qingmiao would stand by his side, even just once, at that dinner table always filled with mockery, scheming, and cold stares.

But not even once.

This time, it crossed his line.

Fortunately, he had long decided not to grieve for this person anymore.

Chen Wan walked out to the sound of bridge games. There was no sun today, and it was very dark outside, gloomy and overcast. He tripped over a rope and saw an old dog chain. He had seen it last time during the Ghost Festival, unsure if it was the servants’ oversight or a subtle warning.

Chen Wan’s temple ached. He lit a cigarette, sat in the car, lost in thought, and when he felt it was hard to breathe, he grabbed his medicine box and took a few sedatives.

Actually, since he started pursuing Zhao Shengge, his condition had gotten much better, and Monica had gradually been reducing his dosage for withdrawal.

But he didn’t want to lose his composure in front of Zhao Shengge, so he took a few more pills.

After Zhao Shengge and Shen Zongnian finished their meeting, Zhao Shengge said they wouldn’t have dinner together and picked up his phone to listen to a voice message again.

When Chen Wan called Zhao Shengge’s name, there was an unconscious, special meaning to it, a very plain tone, without any hint of coquetry, but Zhao Shengge’s heart would gradually fill up with it.

"..." Shen Zongnian glanced at him and said, wait a moment, turning the computer towards him, "The thing you asked me about last time, there's no follow-up."

Zhao Shengge finally put down his phone.

Shen Zongnian: "It can't be said to be a violation, but it's more like the party taking over building something out of thin air. If you dig deeper, it's just a shell."