Si Mingjing stopping? Yeah, right.
She just wished her strides were longer, her running faster.
Mo Yinhe’s expression tightened; he lifted his foot and was about to follow.
Just then, a few cars slowly drove in from outside the courtyard, blocking Mo Yinhe’s way.
Inside one of the cars sat a young man exuding aristocratic grace, poised and elegant all over, about twenty-six or seven years old. Spotting Mo Yinhe, he rolled down his window: "Crown Prince, I guessed you hadn’t left yet, so I took a detour to catch up..."
The man’s sentence was halfway out when it abruptly cut off; he focused, sniffed the air, and suddenly his spirit jolted, his eyes sharp and deep: "What’s that smell?"
The air was saturated with an intense perfume, but the man could still vaguely pick out a familiar scent beneath it.
"Nothing." Mo Yinhe stopped mid-step.
He stood outside the car, narrowed his eyes, drummed his slender fingers on the car door, staring in the direction where Si Mingjing had run off, his gaze growing ever more enigmatic.
"No, I smelled her scent."
The man tried to open the door to get out, but Mo Yinhe didn’t give him the chance. He shoved the man, and as soon as there was room, he swept his long legs into the car. The door slammed shut with a snap, and he rolled the window up too, sealing the car tight.
He said, "That’s just the scent my little brat left behind."
The man wasn’t so easy to fool. His eyes narrowed: "Your little brat’s only five, and already going into heat?"
Mo Yinhe replied, "Drank too much goat milk, matured early. Now he’s bold enough to use my name to propose marriage, causing an uproar all over the city, that little brat."
The man knew about this, too, and couldn’t help gloating over Mo Yinhe’s misfortune.
Mo Yinhe crossed his long legs casually, his tall body relaxing back, looking helpless: "Drive."
After the car started moving, Mo Yinhe gazed thoughtfully in the direction of the small building. His eyes were deep and lingering, his well-boned hand rhythmically tapping on his thigh—who knew what he was thinking.
Inside the small building.
Si Mingjing tugged at the corner of her lips, having survived the ordeal.
Looks like she wouldn’t always get tripped up by that man. Third time’s the charm—good omen!
Even the random dress she’d picked out made her look especially tall and captivating, both beautiful and striking.
After Old Madam Ye went to see her in the small building, she nodded in satisfaction, praising Si Mingjing’s looks, insisting she’d look good in anything.
Afterwards, Old Madam Ye used her connections to get the guest list for Si Mingjing’s recognition banquet at their home.
Among them were the three academicians from the Traditional Medicine Research Institute who’d visited the Ye Family last night.
Si Mingjing’s lips curved in a subtle smile. She already had an idea—looked like the Song Family wanted to reclaim their prestige professionally, huh?
Where did all this confidence come from?
Not worried at all that after setting the stage, they’d just be handing her the perfect show?
Si Mingjing found an excuse to leave the Ye Family first. She was worried Mo Yinhe would come back, so she told Old Madam Ye: "Ma’am, Grandpa Su called for me, I need to go to the Su Family. You and Xiaobai come back this evening to back me up, all right?"
The old lady, knowing she was close with the Su Family, agreed easily.
After leaving the Ye Family estate, Si Mingjing didn’t go to the Su Family. Instead, she went straight to the Song Family.
Song Tengfei had his wife Fang Jing organize the recognition banquet. Fang Jing was all about appearances; even if she didn’t want to, she’d throw a flawless event, leaving no room for criticism. She was clever with details, generous with spending; even the busy servants praised her as a model stepmother.
Song Tengfei was very pleased, more and more convinced his gentle and virtuous current wife was a far better partner than his ex, Si Yao.