“The car’s here!”
Qian Rong shouted.
Instantly, everyone’s eyes locked onto the Maybach.
“Is that Qian Jinglan and them?” someone nearby asked.
“Are you blind? That’s a Maybach, worth over ten million. Do you think Qian Jinglan could afford a car that posh?” Cao Chunmei snapped.
Qian Duoduo chimed in, “This Maybach’s the top-spec version. In Suhang, only billionaires can afford it.”
“But it’s heading towards our house. If it’s not Qian Jinglan, then who is it?”
“Probably someone visiting the old man. Don’t forget, plenty of his students are billionaires.”
“Yeah, makes sense.”
“Bowen and Weidong are with the old man, not here. Rong’er, come with me to greet the VIP.”
Cao Chunmei finished speaking and strode towards the Maybach with Qian Rong in tow.
Zhu Xuemiao watched this, a flicker of displeasure in her eyes, muttering, “She drags her feet over any little task, but she’s quick to cosy up to the powerful.”
“Duoduo, let’s go say hello too.”
“Anyone who can afford a car like that’s a big shot—making a connection’s always worth it.”
Zhu Xuemiao led Qian Duoduo over as well.
The Maybach slowed to a stop at the Qian family gate.
Qian Jinglan’s gaze drifted through the window to the old Qian residence, her eyes welling up.
“Never thought I’d be back after more than twenty years.”
Ye Qiu handed her a tissue, comforting her, “Mum, coming home’s a happy thing—don’t cry. There’s people outside.”
Qian Jinglan glanced at Cao Chunmei, Zhu Xuemiao, and the others, quickly wiped her tears, and said, “Qiu’er, these are your uncle and second uncle’s families. Be polite to them later.”
“I know.”
Inwardly, Ye Qiu thought, politeness goes both ways. Respect me an inch, I’ll respect you a foot. If you’re rude, sorry, but I’ll have to sort you out.
“Let’s get out!”
…
As the Maybach stopped, Qian Rong widened her eyes, eager to see who was inside.
But she couldn’t see a thing.
The car’s windows were made of special material—those inside could see out, but outsiders couldn’t see in. Top-notch privacy.
And yet, the door didn’t open.
Qian Rong grumbled, “Mum, who’s in there? Such airs—we’re all out here to greet them, and they won’t even open the door.”
“Shut it!”
Cao Chunmei glared at Qian Rong, scolding, “The bigger the airs, the bigger the name. Don’t you get something that simple?”
“Anyone in a car like this is no small fry.”
“Remember, be warm to them later.”
“Got it!” Qian Rong replied.
Just then, with a soft “click,” the door slowly opened.
“They’re coming out!”
Cao Chunmei quickly tidied her hair, put on a smile, and stepped forward, ready to be the first to shake hands once they emerged.
But when the door fully opened, her smile froze.
“How’s it you?!”
Cao Chunmei yelped.
She’d never dreamt Qian Jinglan would step out of a top-spec Maybach.
“Sister-in-law, we meet again,” Qian Jinglan smiled as she got out.
Qian Rong’s face went slack when she saw her.
How could it be them?
No way!
Zhu Xuemiao was stunned too, the moment she saw Qian Jinglan.
It wasn’t just that Qian Jinglan emerged from a car worth millions—it was her appearance.
Jet-black hair, glossy and full.
Not a wrinkle on her face.
Ruddy, glowing skin.
Though dressed simply, she looked in her thirties—a far cry from the picture Cao Chunmei and Qian Rong had painted.
“Second sister-in-law, long time no see,” Qian Jinglan said with a smile, approaching Zhu Xuemiao. “You’re as lovely as ever.”
“You’re too kind, Jinglan! If we’re talking lovely, it’s you—twenty years away, and you’ve not changed a bit, still so youthful.”
Zhu Xuemiao glanced at Cao Chunmei, then added, “Jinglan, you wouldn’t believe it, but I was just asking sister-in-law and Rong’er about you.”
“They said your hair’s all white, your wrinkles rougher than tree bark, like an eighty- or ninety-year-old village woman, cooped up with your son in a five-square-metre loo. Hearing that broke my heart.”
Zhu Xuemiao even squeezed out a couple of tears.
Cao Chunmei’s face burned as if slapped, anger boiling inside as she cursed inwardly, “Zhu Xuemiao, you stirring cow—shameless!”
Qian Rong snapped, “Auntie, can you stop spouting rubbish?”
“Did I say they lived in a loo? I said their place was tiny, like a dog’s kennel.”
“And Mum said she looked sixty or seventy, not eighty or ninety…”
“Shut up!” Cao Chunmei barked, itching to slap Qian Rong.
What a dimwit.
If you don’t explain, no one digs deeper. Explain, and you’ve just owned it.
“Embarrassing!” Cao Chunmei hissed at Qian Rong.
Zhu Xuemiao, loving the chaos, fanned the flames, “Rong’er’s right—I forgot. Sister-in-law did say sixty or seventy.”
“Don’t blame me, Rong’er.”
“I’m getting on—memory’s not what it was.”
Hmph!
Qian Rong snorted.
Qian Duoduo stepped up, smiling at Qian Jinglan, “Auntie, hi! I’m Qian Duoduo—my dad’s Qian Weidong.”
“So you’re Duoduo! Polite and handsome—bet you’ve got girls lining up.”
Qian Jinglan sighed, “When I left, your mum wasn’t even pregnant. Blink of an eye, and you’re this big.”
“Auntie, I heard my cousin came back with you—where’s he at?”
Qian Duoduo asked, his right hand behind his back, quietly clenching into a fist.
He was itching for it.
“Your cousin’s in the car on a call. He’s not much older than you—reckon you’ll get on…”
Before Qian Jinglan finished, Qian Duoduo marched towards the car, shouting, “Cousin, your little bro’s here to welcome you!”
Fist tight, the closer he got, the more excited he grew.
“Cousin, don’t blame me—blame your bad luck.”
Reaching the door, ready to swing, a face he knew all too well appeared.
“Hello, little cousin!”
Bloody hell—
Qian Duoduo bolted like he’d seen a ghost.
