After the Tong family changed hands, all the assets left to Liu Qiusi by Tong Baichuan had shrunk to almost nothing. The stocks had become worthless, and the villa had been auctioned by the bank. Although she had 300 million in ST funds, it was essentially valueless, and the other Tong family members had scattered during the disaster and could not care for her.
Moreover, she was accustomed to lavish spending, making it impossible for her to be frugal. The few remaining assets left by Tong Baichuan had surely been squandered long ago, indicating that Liu Qiusi had not had an easy time in these eight years.
From Di Xiyuan’s impatient tone, it was clear she often sought him out for money, acting as a mother-in-law who shamelessly begged for financial support. If Liu Qiusi had any kindness towards her, it had been repaid eight years ago, making Liu Qiusi’s current misery irrelevant to her.
She straightened her shirt and stood up to pick up her coat but was pulled back by him. “Where are you going?” he asked, his previous anger still lingering.
Giving him a dismissive look, she replied coolly, “Our cooperation doesn’t include accompanying you to meet your mother-in-law.”
His thick eyebrows furrowed, and although he gently brushed her hair behind her ear, Ou Xueman stared in astonishment. He smiled and asked, “Do you know that woman?”
She distanced herself from him to calm the flutter he had caused, saying, “Since joining this company, I’ve heard about her—your wife, nicknamed the ‘Ninja Turtle’ by the outside world, who rarely appears in public, while your mother-in-law almost sees you every day when you’re in Hong Kong.”
Hearing this, Di Xiyuan’s brow rippled, wanting to pull Ou Xueman back, but she twisted her waist and dodged. Her face turned cold and ruthless. “I’ll say it again, I’m not interested in married, philandering men. I hope you won’t provoke me.” She put on her coat, transforming her appearance from sexy and languid to sharp and professional. “Since you’re meeting a guest, I’ll excuse myself.”
“No need,” he lowered his eyes to a point of light on the floor, shadows of his eyelashes casting on his pale face, hiding a trace of hurt in his translucent eyes. “I’ll send her away quickly.”
A silence spread between them until a rhythmic knock broke the stillness.
“Come in,” he commanded, returning to his cold, authoritative demeanor.
The woman who entered made Ou Xueman gasp. Sallow skin, high cheekbones, sunken eye sockets, dry and dark lips, gray-white hair – was this really Liu Qiusi? She looked like someone on the brink of death, completely different from the spirited woman of eight years ago.
“Xiyuan, hehe,” Liu Qiusi’s thin face twisted into a trembling smile. “I came… to see you… just to see.” She first noted the messy room, then paused at the sight of Ou Xueman. The darkness in her sunken eyes flashed with disgust before shifting away. “I’ve been investigating… still investigating…”
Ou Xueman’s eyebrows furrowed. Investigating?
What was she investigating? Liu Qiusi wondered if Di Xiyuan had something for her to find out. However, with his abilities, what could he need her to uncover? She fortified her defenses against him.
Di Xiyuan leaned against the office desk, arms crossed, his handsome face cold in the sunlight. “I only want results. Where is she?” His voice was icy.
“I… I… I’ve really tried… I haven’t seen Tong Yifeng this year, so I can’t ask…” Under Di Xiyuan’s chilling gaze, Liu Qiusi spoke quickly.
Ou Xueman was shocked. Tong Yifeng was part of their calculations, and Di Xiyuan seemed to want something from him. Who was the “she” he was referring to?
“Alright, you can go now.”
Di Xiyuan wrote a check and tossed it to Liu Qiusi. When she failed to catch it and it fell, she eagerly picked it up, repeatedly nodding and thanking him, almost like a submissive dog.
In the spacious office, only the two remained. Ou Xueman looked at him coldly, knowing eight years ago that he was calculating and skilled in strategy. Eight years later, he still exploited others’ weaknesses to achieve his goals.
Feeling her gaze, he turned back to look at her.
The coldness momentarily retreated, revealing a trace of sorrow. “Perhaps you don’t approve of my methods, but I must find that person through her.”
Ou Xueman looked at the setting sun outside the window and said softly, “You should know that she is a drug addict.”
After several deep breaths, he slowly said, “You must have heard about my grudge with the Tong family.”
She thought to herself that it was more than hearsay; she had personally experienced it. Recalling everything from eight years ago, she felt old wounds aching.
For some reason, he suddenly became heavy. “Eight years ago, I…” But he was interrupted by Ou Xueman.
“This is your private matter, yet you want to tell an outsider like me. Most people, when confiding a secret, hope for mutual exchange. I will say this upfront: I have no secrets to share, and I don’t want to know yours.” Her tone was resolute and indifferent.
Di Xihuang felt the sharpness in her eyes, cutting across his heart. He knew the imminent pain would be unbearable, gritting his teeth to ignore the pain, but it was like acid, corroding his nerves bit by bit.
At this moment, Ou Wen pushed the door open without knocking—seemingly his habit—and exclaimed, “My God, was there a typhoon here?”
To him, she was just an outsider, a woman he had recently met. But when she looked at him with an almost contemptuous gaze, he felt an impulse to make her understand the real him. He had never shared the details of events from eight years ago with Ou Wen, but today, her glance compelled him to confide.
He wanted her to know the truth about his marriage, his past absurdity, and his current feelings. He was eager for her understanding, yet she repeatedly pushed him away, rejecting all his attempts to get close and his desire for honesty.
He glanced at her, silently questioning her merciless rejection. Was it merely because he was a married man?
A slightly desolate smile touched his lips, but he questioned why he cared so much about her. With his status, women would typically flock to him. Why worry about someone who ignored him? Hadn’t he lived freely before meeting her?
He could just return to sampling the “three thousand waters.” However, deep down, a voice revealed the sentiment he had always overlooked: from the three thousand waters, he would only take one scoop.
Owen’s tone, slightly pleading, made her waver. As he prepared to leave the office, she looked up and softly said, “Happy birthday!” Her voice, gentle as a breeze, stopped him and soothed his earlier hurt.
Perhaps she didn’t realize she had never spoken softly to him before, always indifferent and cold. Now, this soft blessing sweetened his previously bitter heart.
“But I don’t have a gift,” she returned to her indifferent tone, but the sweetness had already softened him, bringing a slight smile to his lips.
Noticing Di Xihuang’s change, Owen patted his shoulder, “Alright, shall we eat now?” He turned back to wave at Ou Xueman, sighing, “What a pair of enemies.”
“Owen, what are you talking about? Who’s his enemy?” Ou Xueman asked, her voice deepening.
Realizing he had annoyed her, Owen played dumb, “Nothing. I’ll go call Tianli; you two go ahead.” He quickly escaped.
Di Xihuang turned back, his obsidian-like eyes glowing softly. His deliberately heavy voice was forced yet tender, “Let’s go, enemy.”
Tolerating him for his birthday, Ou Xueman snorted and stomped out in her high heels.
In the underground parking lot, their footsteps echoed, sometimes hurried, sometimes slow, like two quarreling children.
Finally, Ou Xueman couldn’t bear it, “I’ll give you two choices: either you walk in front of me, or I’ll walk in front of you.”
Di Xihuang’s brows furrowed, “Why?”