The room was too quiet, both their breaths mingling recklessly in the silence. Because Wen Tingli stood facing the window, she could clearly see Qiao Xingchu’s face reflected in the glass—his expression showed both embarrassment and irritation.

“Tingli!”

Wen Tingli refused to turn around. With things having been said this far, there was no point continuing the conversation.

Qiao Xingchu raised a hand as if to touch her, but his pride pulled it back. He looked at her sadly. “Must you twist my meaning like this?”

Wen Tingli still said nothing—no matter how Qiao Xingchu tried to dress up his intentions, in the end it was both her and Bai Liyun who’d be hurt by them.

Right now, her heart was filled only with disappointment.

She didn’t know how long the standoff lasted before Qiao Xingchu let out a self-mocking, bitter laugh. “Fine. I won’t force you.”

He turned on his heel and strode out, his steps large and heavy.

Wen Tingli heard him go down the stairs and never once turned back, and only once the sound had faded completely did she throw herself onto the bed and bury her face in the covers. Strangely, her eyes were dry—she didn’t even feel the urge to cry.

Before long, footsteps thundered up the stairs—Wen Desheng, hurrying up. Entering the room and seeing his daughter’s dejected state, he sat himself down on a nearby stool. “Regretting it now?”

Clearly he’d been eavesdropping downstairs on his daughter and Qiao Xingchu’s conversation the whole time, and made no effort to hide it from her now.

Wen Tingli turned and glared furiously at her father.

Wen Desheng only clapped his hands to himself. “Good thing you don’t regret it! I was honestly afraid you’d lose your head for a moment and agree to his plan. This Qiao Xingchu, what can I even say. The Qiao family’s that overbearing, and the Bai family surely isn’t a pushover either—once this marriage happens, how could a divorce ever come so easily? If you really waited for him, you’d only waste year after year for nothing, and in the end, best case, you’d end up his muddled little concubine, and your whole life would be ruined! Better to cut it off now. There’s a saying—what is it—’time reveals a person’s true heart.’ However good things seem day to day, it’s only in a crisis that you see someone’s true nature. Don’t be discouraged, my good girl. With your looks, why would you ever worry about finding a good man in the future?”

Wen Tingli, already vexed, found this endless talk of “men, men” utterly tiresome.

“Get out! Can’t you just let me be alone for a while?”

Wen Desheng still had a whole belly of things left to say, but he only waved his hands. “Alright, alright, I’ll go back to my room. Dad didn’t sleep all night either. Don’t oversleep—I only got you a half-day off from school.”

Once Wen Desheng left, Wen Tingli opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. What troubled her most right now wasn’t the breakup with Qiao Xingchu, but her worry over her own future.

Back then, her mother had emptied out most of the family’s savings to send her to Xiude Girls’ Middle School, hearing that the students there were all daughters of the wealthy and powerful—in her mother’s limited understanding, marrying a wealthy man of good character was the best path available to a woman in this society, and studying at Xiude meant her daughter would have the chance to meet young men from good families.

In truth, the lane where Wen Tingli lived was full of couples like her parents, trapped in this cramped little world, bickering daily over trivial matters. Growing up in such an environment, Wen Tingli had long understood the meaning of “poverty makes for a hundred sorrows in marriage.”

So after entering school, she hadn’t devoted herself to her studies, instead putting most of her effort into developing her talents and befriending classmates from well-off families.

Her efforts hadn’t been wasted—she’d successfully gotten to know the wealthy young master Qiao Xingchu. But so what? A great household had its own calculations—even if her mother had never been a prostitute, they’d never have agreed to let her marry in.

The more Wen Tingli thought about it, the clearer her head became. She simply got out of bed and started rummaging through her school bag.

With graduation coming in August, if she didn’t go on to university, with her education she’d only be able to find work as a typist at some trading company, earning just a few silver dollars a month—barely enough to support herself alone. If she wanted a decent position in society, she’d need to get into college first, at the very least.

She only regretted not putting more effort into her studies before—especially after meeting Qiao Xingchu, when she’d grown even more complacent. Thinking back on it now, what a colossal joke it had all been! To think she’d been foolish enough to pin her whole future on another person.

She spent a long while flipping through the newspaper before finally finding this year’s admission guidelines for Shanghai’s major schools, and sighed the moment she looked them over—every school with any real reputation had strict, demanding entrance requirements.

At noon, Xiao Taozi came looking for her sister, and the moment she entered the room and saw Wen Tingli bent over her desk studying hard, she let out a surprised “Ah!” She ran in and stood on tiptoe, looking left and right at the desk, and seeing it really was books, gave another surprised “Ah!”

Wen Tingli couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Zhou Sao, standing at the door, also marveled aloud, “Miss, has the sun risen in the west today?”

Wen Tingli pulled Xiao Taozi onto her lap and said, feigning annoyance, “What, can’t I study hard once in a while?”

Xiao Taozi sat in Wen Tingli’s lap for a while, but soon grew restless, poking at the textbook one moment, grabbing hold of her sister’s hand the next.

Wen Tingli ignored her entirely, frowning in concentration over her studies, when she suddenly heard raised voices downstairs—Wen Desheng’s voice, and quite a heated argument at that.

Wen Tingli thought to herself that her father had been asleep upstairs all morning—who could he possibly be arguing with now? Surely not Qiu Dapeng? She quickly had Zhou Sao take Xiao Taozi back to the room, then stormed furiously downstairs, only to find it wasn’t the Qiu father and son after all, but their landlord, Liu Liangcai.

A cup of tea still steamed on the table; Liu Liangcai sat with his legs crossed in a chair by the counter.

Her father looked deeply aggrieved. “Mr. Liu, when I rented this place it was specifically to run a Western clothing shop—it’s written in black and white in the contract. How can you just say you won’t rent it anymore? There’s so much stock in the shop, where am I supposed to move everything overnight?”

“Don’t get worked up, Brother Wen.” Liu Liangcai took a leisurely sip of tea.

Wen Tingli approached with a smile. “What’s this, Uncle Liu, you won’t rent us the place anymore?”

“Eh, Tingli’s not at school this morning?” Liu Liangcai switched to a smiling face. “Uncle Liu has no choice in the matter either. Blame my wife’s family—her brother suddenly quit his job back home and came to stay with us with his wife and kids, and now they’re all crammed into our house. My wife wants to take back this place and let them live here, and maybe let her brother start some small business. I was dead set against it originally, but she nagged me about it every single day.”

But the lease contract specified a three-year term, and breaking it early would mean a hefty penalty. Liu Liangcai was famously stingy—even if he really did want to take care of his brother-in-law’s family, he’d surely drag it out until the lease naturally expired rather than pay a penalty.

Wen Tingli said, feigning surprise, “The rent here is eighty silver dollars a year—breaking the lease alone would cost you twenty. Uncle Liu, if you’re not troubled by that loss, I feel bad on your behalf. You’re an old family friend of ours—everything can be discussed. Why not let us stay until the lease is up? That way you won’t have to pay the penalty, and we can slowly look for a suitable new place. You know how it is in business—moving is the worst thing that can happen. If we uproot suddenly, we’re bound to lose half our regular customers. But if we have time to arrange things properly, we can let our customers know where our new shop is.”

Wen Desheng’s expression eased—one of the smartest decisions he and his late wife had made these past few years was sending their daughter to school. Words like these would soften even a stone’s heart. But Liu Liangcai waved a hand and said, “What can I do, saddled with such an unlucky brother-in-law. Fine, I’ll eat the loss. Since we’re old friends, I’ll give you three days’ grace. After three days, you absolutely must move out.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a thick wad of silver dollars from inside his coat. “I’ve already brought the penalty money with me—twenty silver dollars in all. Brother Wen, count it and see if it’s right.”

The whole situation was bizarre in the extreme.

Father and daughter stared at each other in bewilderment long after Liu Liangcai had left.

“Has Mr. Liu lost his mind?” Wen Tingli said suspiciously. “He’s losing money on every side with this arrangement.”

Wen Desheng’s face darkened. “Don’t believe a word of that nonsense. Since when has he ever been this generous with his wife’s family? Someone must have their eye on our shop and offered him a high price to rent it out instead—otherwise he’d never eat the loss like this.”

Troubled, he stuffed the bag of silver dollars into his pocket. “He’s already forfeited the penalty—if we insist on staying anyway, Liu Liangcai might just call in the police. You and Xiao Taozi eat first—Dad needs to go find us a new place.”

Wen Tingli called after her father’s retreating back, “A classmate at school mentioned the other day that her family has a shop for rent—I’ll ask her about it this afternoon.”

Wen Desheng rubbed his hands together outside, laughing. “Good, good, good, my daughter’s schooling is really paying off—your connections are broader than your father’s now. Ask your classmate carefully—as long as it’s not too out of the way, we can negotiate on price.”

That afternoon at school, Wen Tingli was surprised to learn Qiao Baoxin hadn’t come to class all day. Fortunately, since Qiao Baoxin was the granddaughter of school trustee Qiao Peiying, no one would question her absence.

During class, Wen Tingli was unusually diligent, eyes fixed intently on the teacher, afraid of missing a single word.

After class, she went to find the classmate who’d mentioned the shop for rent—a girl named Jiang Xiaoqiu, whose family ran a publishing house, though Jiang Xiaoqiu’s father had long been living separately with a mistress in a small townhouse elsewhere, a fact all the classmates knew.

The moment Wen Tingli asked, Jiang Xiaoqiu said happily, “Perfect timing—our tenant just up and left without any warning, didn’t even give us notice. You know how it is, my father hasn’t been supporting our household expenses much lately either, and my mother was just worrying about it yesterday. If your family can rent it right away, that’d be wonderful.”

Wen Tingli asked eagerly, “Where’s the property located?”

After school, the Jiang family’s driver came in an old, worn car to pick up Jiang Xiaoqiu, who pulled Wen Tingli along to ride with her. The property had been part of Mrs. Jiang’s dowry, located near Parker Road.

Once inside, Wen Tingli looked the place over from top to bottom—everything about it was better than their current home, only the annual rent was fully fifty silver dollars more than what they currently paid, hardly a bargain. She called the shop to discuss it, and it happened that Wen Desheng had just gotten back.

He’d also looked at several places that afternoon, but each was either unsuitable for a Western clothing shop or poorly located. Hearing his daughter’s description, he said quickly over the phone, “I know that area. Ask Mrs. Jiang—if I sign a long-term lease for several years and pay it all at once, could the rent come down a bit more?”

Jiang Xiaoqiu called her mother, who said over the phone that if the Wen family signed a long-term lease, the rent could come down another ten dollars a year.

Everyone was pleased with this. The two girls took the car back to the “Desheng” Western Clothing Shop to hand over the deposit and draft the contract, but strangely, Wen Desheng wasn’t at the shop, and the door was locked.

Wen Tingli went behind the counter herself, took fifty silver dollars from the drawer, and handed it to Jiang Xiaoqiu, who sat down and wrote out a receipt with her signature. Once the exchange was made, the property was formally secured.

A great weight lifted off Wen Tingli’s heart. She specially asked Zhou Sao to prepare a few extra dishes, and invited Jiang Xiaoqiu and the family driver to stay for dinner. After the meal the two girls chatted a while longer before Jiang Xiaoqiu took her leave.

Another hour passed before Wen Desheng finally returned.

Wen Tingli was reviewing her lessons behind the counter when she noticed, to her surprise, that her father’s expression was even worse than it had been that morning. Assuming he was simply anxious about the property, she quickly pulled out the receipt. “Dad, don’t worry anymore—Mrs. Jiang agreed to rent us the place.”

Wen Desheng managed a strained smile. “That’s good, then.”

But right after, he sank down beside her with a sigh. “Tingli, Dad has a feeling something’s not right about this whole business.”

As it turned out, Wen Desheng, having heard the property was settled that afternoon, had gone happily to Shunji Fabric Shop, telling them the Western clothing shop was moving to a new location and asking them to send the previously ordered fabric to the new address instead.

Unexpectedly, Shunji’s owner, Chen, suddenly announced the fabric prices were going up—when he calculated it out, the price per bolt had more than tripled. Wen Desheng couldn’t help but argue with him, but just then another Western clothing shop owner happened to bring his staff to pick up an order, and Chen Shun gave them the same old price as always. Wen Desheng confronted Chen Shun about what this meant, and Chen Shun said that if Wen Desheng continued sourcing fabric from their shop, this would be the price from now on.

With that, Chen Shun retreated to the back and refused to show his face again no matter how much of a scene Wen Desheng made. Finally, an old employee at Shunji, unable to stand by any longer, quietly pulled Wen Desheng aside and asked whether he’d recently offended someone important.

Hearing this, Wen Tingli’s eyes widened in surprise. “The employee really said that?”

“If we source materials at Chen Shun’s new prices, it won’t be long before our shop goes bankrupt. Shunji has always done honest business—Dad really can’t understand why Old Chen would suddenly make things difficult for us.”

Just then, the Western-style telephone on the wall rang—it was Jiang Xiaoqiu calling.

Jiang Xiaoqiu said haltingly on the other end, “I’m sorry, I only found out when I got home—that property… my mother already rented it to someone else.”

“But Auntie agreed just before dinner! She even said she’d knock ten dollars off the rent. Everything was settled—how could it suddenly—”

“My mother said she only thought of us as children, and never took our conversation seriously to begin with. Tingli, please don’t be angry, this was my carelessness—I’ll return the fifty dollars to you tomorrow.”

Wen Tingli was about to say more, but a thought flashed through her mind and she swallowed the words back.

“Alright, I understand. No, no, don’t say that, it’s fine… see you tomorrow, then.”

She hung up the phone, dejected.

Wen Desheng’s face darkened further. “What do you mean, Mrs. Jiang backed out too?”

Wen Tingli paced back and forth across the room a few times, then suddenly said, “Doesn’t this all seem a bit too coincidental? Mr. Liu suddenly wanting the place back, our old trusted supplier Shunji suddenly raising prices, Mrs. Jiang agreeing on the rent and then backing out at the last minute. Are you sure you haven’t offended someone lately… some drunken incident you might have forgotten about?”

“Oh, come on.” Wen Desheng stamped his foot. “I’ve only had one drink these past few months. Besides, Shunji is an established local fabric shop—if someone really wanted to make trouble for me, who would have the power to make even Shunji fall in line?”

Wen Tingli looked thoroughly puzzled. “Let’s do this—tomorrow I’ll sound out Jiang Xiaoqiu at school first. If she doesn’t know the reason, I’ll go with her to ask Mrs. Jiang directly.”

“Don’t push too hard—it’d be bad if you offended your little classmate.” Wen Desheng couldn’t hide the anxiety in his eyes. “Tomorrow Dad will take that old Shunji employee out for drinks—he’s an old hand there, he might know something. And more importantly, right now we need to find a suitable place as soon as possible. Dad will go out and ask around with some more friends. You all should get to sleep.”

The next day, the moment Jiang Xiaoqiu saw Wen Tingli, she took out the fifty silver dollars from the day before and returned it, saying awkwardly, “Right after we hung up yesterday, a friend of my mother’s came by—turned out that friend wanted to open a shop too, and there was nothing to be done, since she and my mother go way back, my mother just couldn’t refuse her… You wanted to come by after school? These next few days aren’t really convenient—my mother’s caught a bit of a cold, we just had the doctor over this morning. Tingli, I’m sorry, let’s have you over another time.”

No matter how Wen Tingli tried to pry information out of her, she couldn’t get a single useful clue, and Jiang Xiaoqiu ran off after saying this, avoiding Wen Tingli for the rest of the day.

With this, Wen Tingli was nearly certain there was more to this than met the eye, but she genuinely couldn’t think of anyone her family might have offended recently. What was strangest of all was how thoroughly this person seemed to know every detail of her family’s situation.

Preoccupied with investigating the matter, she was the first one out of school when classes let out, and had barely stepped outside when she spotted a familiar car, with a slick, oily-haired young man sitting in it, dressed in a brand-new white Western suit, his hair combed shiny black as polished leather shoes.

“Wen Tingli.” The young man jumped brashly out of the car.

Wen Tingli looked at Qiu Lingyun with disgust. Ever since she’d gotten together with Qiao Xingchu, she hadn’t seen this pest in quite a while. But now that she and Qiao Xingchu had broken up, here Qiu Lingyun was again.

It seemed she and her father had guessed right—it really had been Qiu Dapeng who’d tipped off Mrs. Qiao!

What a shameless pair of father and son!

“Well, if it isn’t the eldest young master of the Qiu family,” Wen Tingli said pleasantly. “How’s your father been lately?”

Qiu Lingyun paused mid-step—he’d suffered plenty at Wen Tingli’s hands before, knowing full well that behind that innocent, sweet exterior lay a sharp, capable wit. Being played for a fool by a girl so many times wasn’t exactly flattering for a man. But he simply couldn’t bring himself to give up that pretty face of hers—he’d seen plenty of beauties, big and small, but none quite as vivid and lively as Wen Tingli.

He eyed her, itching with interest. “Why don’t you come to our house and see for yourself how my father’s doing? I know you like Federal Café’s ice cream—they just delivered a whole tub to our house this afternoon. It’s so hot today, come over and I’ll let you eat your fill.”

“Federal’s ice cream is nothing—these days I only like Aider’s sorbet. Too bad it’s so expensive, ordinary people probably can’t afford it.”

Qiu Lingyun couldn’t stand hearing anyone imply he wasn’t rich enough, and immediately said, “Wait right there, I’ll go buy out their entire stock of sorbet for you right now.”

Conveniently, there was a lavishly decorated Aider’s shop right across from Xiude Middle School. Qiu Lingyun parked his car off to the side and dashed across the street to buy the treats.

Wen Tingli watched Qiu Lingyun’s retreating figure coldly. This man had been pestering her for far too long—unless she agreed to be his girlfriend, no matter what boyfriend she had in the future, this father-and-son pair would surely use her mother’s tragic past against her again and again.

Poor as her mother had suffered back then, to have her memory sullied again and again by such petty scoundrels even after death—she truly couldn’t swallow this outrage! She kicked hard at the tire of Qiu Lingyun’s car, but the tire didn’t budge an inch.

She pulled a paper cutter from her school bag, considering where best to strike. Best to flatten all four tires, and see how Qiu Lingyun would manage to drive over and pester her then.

Checking that no one was around, Wen Tingli immediately set her plan into motion. She’d just managed to flatten one tire when, out of nowhere, a black car pulled up silently.

Wen Tingli quickly hid the paper cutter and pretended to be crouching down to tie her shoelace.

The car brushed past Wen Tingli, then suddenly slowed and reversed back.

Wen Tingli, already guilty as charged, couldn’t help but glance up—there seemed to be a man sitting inside the car. It was getting dark, so she couldn’t make out his features clearly, but she could sense he was studying her.

Then the man in the car said, “Let’s go.”

It really was a young man’s voice, seeming to carry a note of amusement—it seemed he’d seen her entire little prank play out.

Wen Tingli feigned composure and straightened up; the car had already driven off. She was still trying to place where she’d heard that voice before when Qiu Lingyun swaggered back with a food box held high.

“Wen Tingli, tell me honestly, haven’t I been good to you? Just say the word, and I’ll buy you every pastry in Shanghai.”

Wen Tingli didn’t even glance at him, turning and walking toward the other side of the street.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter with you?”

He hurried after her with an ingratiating smile. “Did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, don’t go.”

Wen Tingli had already vanished in a flash. Qiu Lingyun tried to give chase, but hindered by the ice cream box in his hands, he was forced to jump into his car first—only to find, no matter how hard he pressed the gas, the car simply wouldn’t move. Getting out to look, he found all four tires flat.

Qiu Lingyun nearly fell over with rage. “Wen Tingli, you’d better not run if you’ve got the guts!”

Wen Tingli spat back from ahead, “You’d better stop pestering me if you’ve got the guts! Otherwise there’s more good stuff waiting for you next time.”

By the time she’d finished speaking, she’d already jumped onto the tram. Once she’d grabbed the railing and steadied herself, she made a face at Qiu Lingyun through the window.

Qiu Lingyun watched, torn between resentment and infatuation, wanting to jump onto the tram after her too, but hating that Wen Tingli always seemed to plan every step ahead—right now his car was stuck on the side of the road. He could only say bitterly, “Don’t think you’re too good to accept help—I actually came to help you today.”

Something stirred in Wen Tingli’s mind—could all these recent troubles at home really be connected to the Qiu family? She feigned indifference. “What kind of help could you possibly offer me? Probably more lies to fool me with.”

“Think carefully about what your family’s been dealing with lately. I’ve got nothing better to do than make up lies for you.”

“If it’s really about my family’s business, do you dare say it to my father’s face? All you know how to do is pester me—what kind of man is that?”

“Fine, I’ll go to your house tonight—hey, Wen Tingli, are you listening? You’d better be home waiting for me.”

Back home, Zhou Sao was still busy in the kitchen, while Wen Desheng had already been back a good while.

The shop still hadn’t opened today. When Wen Tingli came in, Wen Desheng was holding Xiao Taozi while working the abacus behind the counter. Seeing her father’s face full of worry, Wen Tingli knew the day hadn’t gone well. Asking further, she learned her father had wasted an entire round of drinks without getting anything useful out of the Shunji employee—only a vague sense that whoever was behind this had considerable clout, enough that even Shunji had to show them deference.

Not only that, but the search for a new property had hit dead ends everywhere too—either the rent was outrageously high, or the landlord suddenly backed out right at the moment of paying the deposit. In short, an entire day wasted for nothing.

Wen Tingli quickly relayed what Jiang Xiaoqiu had said that morning, as well as her encounter with Qiu Lingyun at the school gate just now.

Wen Desheng exploded on the spot. “That little punk still dares to come find you! You’re saying—this has something to do with Qiu Dapeng? That can’t be right—Qiu Dapeng may be better off than me, but at the end of the day he’s just a comprador at a small trading firm. How could he possibly have the pull to control Shunji?”

Wen Tingli set down her school bag, annoyed. “Whatever the case, they’ve got thick enough skin—if they really dare show up tonight, we’ll just ask them straight to their faces.”

She thought back carefully over that night at the Qiao house, seeing Qiu Dapeng, and immediately decided to call Qiao Baoxin—maybe Baoxin would know something. She’d just picked up the receiver when she hung it back up again.

Qiao Baoxin surely already knew her brother and Wen Tingli had broken up—calling now would mean Qiao Xingchu finding out about all this, and that wouldn’t do at all. Instead, she called the other two friends who’d gone to the Qiao house that night, asking them to inquire with Qiao Baoxin about what had happened that evening.

The Qiu father and son arrived even earlier than expected. Just past eight o’clock, father and son showed up at the door with gifts in tow—dozens of boxes of fine fabric and pastries, along with several sets of newly made gleaming gold jewelry.

The whole display looked less like a social visit and more like a marriage proposal.

Qiu Dapeng was considerably heavier-built than his son, dressed in a light gray checkered Western suit, the fabric straining against his bulk, his hair combed back in the same slicked Western style as his son’s. The moment he entered, he called out, “Big Brother.”

Wen Desheng stared straight at Qiu Dapeng. “Big Brother? I can’t bear to hear that from you.”

“What kind of talk is that? Your brother’s thought of you as Big Brother his whole life.”

He made a great show of having the gift boxes arranged neatly, waved for the driver to step outside, personally shut the front door, then turned to his son. “What are you standing there for? Go greet Uncle Wen properly.”

Qiu Lingyun stepped forward with a smirk and bowed. “Hello, Uncle Wen.”

Wen Desheng replied with a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Such distinguished guests, gracing our humble doorstep. It’s been so long since you two came around—don’t tell me you, Mr. Qiu, have finally found your conscience and come to personally teach your son the meaning of ‘carrying thorns to beg forgiveness’?”

The fat on Qiu Dapeng’s face gave a tremble. “I don’t quite follow what Big Brother means by that.”

Wen Desheng shot up in fury. “Won’t own up to what you’ve done? Young Master Qiao came by yesterday, and he told me himself that you told his mother everything about A’Rou’s past!”

This was merely a bluff meant to draw Qiu Dapeng out. Qiu Dapeng, half-believing it, but unable to actually bring Qiao Xingchu in to testify against him, finally sighed. “Big Brother, we’ve known each other for years—don’t you know my character by now? Your brother would never bring up the past on his own. That day, if Mrs. Qiao hadn’t pressed me for it, I never would have let it slip.”

“Mrs. Qiao asked you herself?”

“Of course she did.” Qiu Dapeng looked thoroughly wronged. “She’d heard her son was seeing Tingli, and had already been secretly investigating Tingli for a while. As it happens, our trading firm’s owner is distantly related to the Qiao family too, and Mrs. Qiao found out our two families have always been close, so she specially sent an invitation for me to come to the Qiao house. Your brother, not understanding the situation, heard Mrs. Qiao bring up ‘A’Rou’ herself and assumed she already knew all about the Wen family’s background, and got talked into revealing everything without realizing it.”

Upstairs, Wen Tingli listened with mounting fury and rushed down. “You’re lying!”

“I already asked Qiao Baoxin just now—she said the Qiao family never sent any invitation to anyone in the Qiu family. You went crawling to your employer like a toad, begging to be brought along to the Qiao house, and that night more than one person saw you fawning over Mrs. Qiao yourself, including me.”

“Nothing more to say?” Wen Desheng snatched up a wooden cudgel he’d hidden behind his chair and charged forward. “You bastard Qiu, how could you do this to Tingli! Look at how A’Rou and I treated you back then—do you have any conscience left at all?”

Seeing things turn dangerous, Qiu Dapeng scrambled off his chair. Qiu Lingyun rushed forward to restrain Wen Desheng. “Uncle Wen, let’s talk this out… you don’t understand how formidable Mrs. Qiao is. Even if my father hadn’t said anything, they’d have found out sooner or later anyway.”

“That’s her business to investigate—your father betraying his sworn brother and sister-in-law with a guilty conscience is a completely different matter! Let go of me, or I’ll thrash you too!”

Qiu Dapeng had already fled to the doorframe, holding onto it. “Big Brother, do you really want to make a scene the whole neighborhood hears? Tingli isn’t even married yet—if people find out her mother was a prostitute, from now on…”

Wen Tingli held her father’s arm and sneered coldly at Qiu Dapeng. “Go ahead and shout it from the streets if you like—let’s see whether more people look down on our Wen family, or on you, you scheming little snake!”

Qiu Dapeng’s expression shifted several times before he switched to a placating tone. “You’re a child I watched grow up, how could I bear to harm you? That night, Uncle Qiu was simply cowed by Mrs. Qiao—afterward I regretted it endlessly. Don’t worry, from now on no one will ever pry another word out of me. And besides, the Qiao family’s far too overbearing—not exactly a good match to begin with. Better for Tingli to get out now than fall into a pit of fire later. Look, Big Brother, just look at how the Qiao family’s been making trouble for you these past few days—doesn’t that prove your brother’s right?”

Wen Desheng scoffed. “You’re saying the Qiao family’s been secretly sabotaging us these past few days?”

“Seems Big Brother still doesn’t know. Your brother had to work hard to pry even this much out of our employer. The Qiao family’s in an uproar—Young Master Qiao refuses point-blank to marry the Bai family’s eldest daughter, insists on going to Hong Kong alone instead. Old Master Qiao even pulled out a pistol trying to force his son to submit. Right now the young master’s locked up in the study—can’t even leave the room, they say.”

Wen Tingli was struck with shock.

“You’ve all probably heard—the eldest branch of the Qiao family is in dire straits right now. Master Qiao would never allow his son to defy his own father. Whether Young Master Qiao likes it or not, this marriage is happening. Old Master Qiao and Mrs. Qiao probably know their son still hasn’t given up on Tingli, and are doing everything they can to drive you all out of Shanghai.”

Wen Desheng grew more alarmed the more he listened. So that was it! Can’t rent a place, can’t turn a profit on the clothing shop—it wouldn’t be long before he couldn’t survive in Shanghai at all.

Thinking this, he still said aloud, “Don’t talk nonsense. Tingli’s already broken up with Qiao Xingchu—what reason would the Qiao family have to keep bothering us?”

“What good does breaking up do? Can it stop his son from still pining after Tingli in his heart? As long as the two of them are both in Shanghai, who knows when trouble might flare up again. The Qiao family probably feels they’ll only be at ease once Tingli leaves Shanghai for good. Don’t believe me? Wait a few days until you’re pushed to the brink, and the Qiao family will show up right on cue, offering you a settlement to leave Shanghai for somewhere else.”

Wen Desheng rolled up his sleeves. “No need to wait for them—I’ll go to the Qiao house myself and settle this face to face right now!”

Qiu Dapeng grabbed hold of Wen Desheng. “It’s no use—they won’t believe Big Brother’s promises. Young Master Qiao hasn’t given up on Tingli, so what good are one-sided promises from the Wen family? You have no choice but to leave. Your brother just feels for you, that’s all…”

He glanced around the room. “Big Brother and Sister-in-law worked so hard to build up this Western clothing shop—your brother’s come today to tell you a good way out: one that keeps the shop safe, and ensures the Qiao family never troubles you again.”

Wen Tingli already knew exactly what scheme Qiu Dapeng had up his sleeve, and feigned raising her eyebrows. “Oh? What good way?”

Qiu Lingyun couldn’t help but chime in. “Heh heh, the best way is for you to marry me right away.”

“Big Brother.” Qiu Dapeng put on an ingratiating smile. “Lingyun’s devoted to Tingli, heart and soul, and both kids are grown now—once Tingli marries Lingyun, Young Master Qiao will finally give up for good, and the Qiao family won’t have anything to worry about either. Tingli, our Qiu family may not be as wealthy as the Qiao family, but we won’t want for anything either. Lingyun says if you’re willing to marry him, after the wedding you can keep studying if you like, or stay home as lady of the house if you like—look, Uncle Qiu even brought the betrothal gifts.”

Before he could finish, Wen Desheng swung the cudgel at him. “Enough of your performance, you scoundrel! You think I can’t guess it was you behind Old Liu’s little scheme too! And I was wondering how anyone found out so quickly that our landlord was Liu Liangcai! How anyone figured out so fast that we source our fabric from Shunji—you’ve been dead set on ruining things between Tingli and Qiao Xingchu, half for your son’s sake, and half because you can’t stand to see me better off than you. Afraid that if we married into the Qiao family, we’d finally outrank you! A’Rou saw through your narrow-mindedness while she was alive—don’t you dare run, you animal, today I’ll get justice for A’Rou and Tingli both!”

Qiu Dapeng’s face instantly turned vicious. Before Wen Desheng could get around behind him, he spun and grappled with Wen Desheng in a brawl.

“Don’t you get high and mighty with me—a whore’s daughter, and you still expect her to marry into some fine family. My son not looking down on your daughter is generous enough as it is, and here you are acting like we’re not good enough for you.”

“Stop it, stop fighting!” Wen Tingli cried, both anxious and furious. “Just you wait!”

She rushed out to call for help—they’d arranged beforehand with a few of her father’s friends that if a fight broke out, several uncles would come running to help.

By the time Wen Tingli returned with people in tow, Qiu Dapeng had already gained the upper hand, pinning Wen Desheng’s neck down with a look of triumph. “All these years I never could understand what A’Rou saw in you, and now your daughter turns her nose up at my son too. Feh—like mother, like daughter, thinking they’re too good for us.”

Several strong men rushed in and yanked Qiu Dapeng off. Qiu Dapeng, not expecting Wen Desheng to have backup waiting, scrambled to free himself while shouting at his son, “What are you standing there for? Go get the driver and A’Biao to help!”

Qiu Lingyun quickly brought over several men, one burly fellow carrying an iron whip. Qiu Dapeng said triumphantly, “Wen Desheng, since you refuse to know your place, let’s just see who teaches whom a lesson tonight!”

Just then, the telephone on the wall rang. Wen Tingli had no time to answer it, but suddenly thought it might be Qiao Baoxin calling, and picked it up in a fluster—only to hear a young man’s voice on the other end.

“Put Qiu Dapeng on the phone.”

He didn’t ask whether this was the Wen residence, nor who was answering—as if he’d already assumed Wen Tingli would hand the receiver straight to Qiu Dapeng, and that Qiu Dapeng would come take the call.

“Who is this?” Wen Tingli asked, panting, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“My surname is Meng. Tell him to come to the phone.”

By now the Qiu side had regained the upper hand—Qiu Dapeng had grabbed Wen Desheng’s collar and landed several vicious punches, striking hard and true, and within moments Wen Desheng’s head was covered in blood. Wen Tingli, dizzy with panic, shouted sharply, “Stop it! Stop it now! It’s a call for you!”

“For me?”

“He said his surname is Meng.”

Qiu Dapeng’s body gave an almost imperceptible shudder.

Wen Tingli seized the moment of his distraction to rush forward and shove him hard. “Get off!”

Caught off guard, Qiu Dapeng stumbled and fell in a heap—but strangely, instead of flying into a rage, he scrambled up off the floor at once to answer the phone.

The moment he picked up the receiver, his spine seemed to snap and bend at once. “Mr., Mr. Meng?”

What followed was Qiu Dapeng nodding and bowing endlessly at the empty air in front of him, as if the person on the other end of the line stood right before him.

“Yes, yes, yes. Understood. I’ll apologize to Miss Wen and Mr. Wen right away—you’re right, I’m scum, I’ll get my people and get out this instant.”