Back at Liyuan, Lu Qing was playing chess with Ninth Uncle. The white pieces were being thoroughly eaten, while the black pieces had the upper hand in every way.
Mr. Jiu took a sip of Pu’er tea and said smugly:
"Kid, just admit defeat."
"Ninth Uncle, if I win this round, I want to bring Miaomiao home."
Mr. Jiu scoffed, "Bold words, win this round and let me see."
Lu Qing held the white piece with his long, distinct fingers, carrying a hint of warmth as he placed it at the corner of the chessboard. The whole game instantly came alive.
"Ninth Uncle, shall we keep playing?"
Mr. Jiu sneered and chuckled twice, "As it turns out, you calculated everything ahead of time. You kid, you’ve got quite the strategy."
"You’re too kind, so... can I bring Miaomiao home?"
Mr. Jiu looked at Lu Qing with slight disdain, "Fine, fine, take her away. I’m sick of seeing you here every day, such an eyesore."
Qin Miaomiao stood at the doorway, watching the two banter. Before she realized it, a smile had risen on her lips, and warmth rippled in her chest.
All the cruel and dark memories of the past were finally being put down. From now on, she was no longer the vengeful Su Jin; she was Qin Miaomiao, surrounded by people who love her.
In the tranquility of time, she resolved to cherish the days ahead.
"Little Jin’er, why are you standing in the doorway? Come over and play a round with Ninth Uncle."
Qin Miaomiao walked over and stood behind Mr. Jiu, massaging his shoulders with one hand, speaking softly:
"I can’t play chess, but I can give you a good shoulder massage and leg therapy."
"Is your hand healed?"
"Not yet, but I still have one hand, don’t I?"
Mr. Jiu patted her hand and smiled faintly, "No need. I don’t bully someone who’s injured. Fine, today, you’ll go home with that kid. But, let me be clear—out there, you only get to bully others. If anyone dares to bully you, they’re messing with me. Got it?"
Qin Miaomiao rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly, murmuring, "Got it, Ninth Uncle is the best, I love Ninth Uncle the most."
Lu Qing stood up, grabbed her by the collar, and pulled her into his arms. His brows furrowed as he looked at her with utter dissatisfaction, "Hugging another man in front of me? You think I’m dead?"
Mr. Jiu also stood up, adjusting his sleeves with a cold sneer:
"My Little Jin’er is close to me; you dare to meddle, kid? Are you tired of living?"
Lu Qing scoffed, "What, want to fight about it? Bring it on! Who’s afraid of who?"
Well, this time, she couldn’t stop them even if she wanted to—and she didn’t. Let them have at it!
The two fought for 300 rounds. In the end, Mr. Jiu won with a narrow advantage, this time managing to keep it relatively restrained and not go overboard.
Mr. Jiu wore a gleeful expression, "Kid, you lost."
Even though his ribs hurt a bit, how could that kid be so tough? It hurt! No way, for the sake of face, he had to hold it together in front of Little Jin’er, absolutely couldn’t let it show!
"Got the guts to go another round?"
This old guy actually has such good moves? What a misstep—he shouldn’t have underestimated him earlier.
Mr. Jiu snorted, "Want a comeback? Dream on. The sky’s already dark; scram, hurry up."
Another round would definitely end in loss. His ribs hurt so badly—this rascal, he’ll deal with him next time!
Watching the two walk out the door, Mr. Jiu suddenly couldn’t hold on anymore. He clutched his aching chest and contemplated whether he should gather a few experts next time to deal with him.
"Steward, bring me a bottle of herbal wine."
"Mr. Jiu, are you injured?"
"Nonsense! How could I be injured? I’m... repelling mosquitoes."