Translator: 549690339
The Secretary-General visited more frequently than Ren Jiawei, and this time, Ren Jiawei had made a point of bringing him along.
He had thought that getting the book from Bai Lian would be a matter of a simple request.
Not to mention that they were offering a sum that far exceeded the books value, just the Ren Family’s reputation alone left him baffled as to why Bai Lian refused almost without consideration.
“Of course, I’m absolutely petty. The fact that you’re still standing here breathing,” Bai Lian halted in her tracks, tossing her earphones aside, giving him a glance, “is already the limit of my patience, so you’d better act the part in front of my grandfather.”
The Secretary-General, used to currying favor and bullying those below him, spared the Ji Family a glance only because of Ren Qian’s high regard.
Yet, he hadn’t expected Bai Lian, whom he had dismissed, to not give him the slightest amount of face.
At this moment, the smile froze on his lips.
In the main hall, Ji Heng wore reading glasses.
He held a handkerchief in his left hand and between his right thumb and forefinger was a newly acquired smoking pipe.
Bai Lian recognized it, the smoking pipe that Ji Shaojun had picked out for him at a department store on their trip to Beicheng.
Ji Heng pushed up his glasses with his handkerchief-holding hand and looked at the people in the courtyard, “Has Alian returned? Come and look at the embroidered pattern I’ve done for you.”
He sensed something was off among the group, but he chose not to mention He simply addressed Bai Lian with an easygoing manner.
“Grandfather,” Bai Lian didn’t return to her room but placed her bookbag on the stone table in the courtyard and embraced Ji Hengs shoulders, “why are you still embroidering today…”
He took a puff of his pipe, the light smoke drifting away.
The Secretary-General, smelling the low-quality tobacco, frowned subtly without showing it.
Through the haze of smoke, Bai Lian, slightly turning her head, sneered arrogantly at the Secretary-General, mouthing silently— [Don’t cause trouble]
The Secretary-General subdued the chill in his eyes and, upon looking up at Ren Jiawei, expressed great confusion, “President Ren, you see, she—” In Xiangcheng, who didn’t give a wide berth to the Ren Family?
Even the recently prominent Chen Family wouldn’t dare to be so bold with him.
“Oh, President Ren,” Shen Qing quickly intervened, a bit afraid that Ren Jiawei would take her anger out on him, “Alian is just acting like a child. Don’t pay her any mind. About that book, right? I’ll talk to her again tonight…” Ren Jiawei ignored Shen Qing.
She looked thoughtfully at Bai Lian, politely greeting Ji Heng with indifference, “Happy birthday. I have another meeting and must be going now.”
Ji Heng took a puff of his pipe and simply responded with a “Hmm.”
After Ji Heng and Bai Lian went inside, she gave the Secretary-General a glance, “Alright, if it’s not for sale, it’s not for sale. I have another meeting to attend.’
She took out her cellphone to reply to a message while walking toward the exit.
Ren Jiawei worked in fashion, the complete opposite of Ji Heng.
The clash between trend and tradition; the two couldn’t stand each other. She firmly believed that every trend and development had its place in time, whereas it was time for Ji Heng to change his old-fashioned ways.
Ji Heng, however, persisted, and since Ren Jiawei couldn’t persuade him, she let it be.
“Alright.” The Secretary-General nodded.
He saw Ren Jiawei out.
Ren Jiawei meandered her way to her car parked on Purest Street, and then
she made a call to Ren Qian.
“Is this what you call obedient?” she asked after driving a bit and parking the car on the roadside, laughing, “Are you trying to fool me?”
“What happened?” Ren Qian had just stepped out of a meeting, his tone surprised.
He set aside the notebook that was beside him.
“l just went to the Ji Family to buy that book from your well-mannered niece you mentioned…” Ren Jiawei spoke as she held the phone in one hand and rested the other on the steering wheel, with the shadows of passing trees enveloping her.
Ren Wanxuan was destined for the path of academics, and the business she had established still lacked a suitable successor.
Having heard from Ji Shaorong that his niece wasn’t doing very well in her studies, she had started to contemplate grooming her niece.
But Ren Wanxuan’s description of Bai Lian had given Ren Jiawei some second thoughts.
Thinking Bai Lian to be of Shen Qings ilk, Ren Jiawei had begun with a sense of reservation.
Ren Jiawei thought about the clothes Bai Lian wore, made by Ji Heng.
This niece seemed to have an innate rebelliousness, similar to but also distinct from Ji Heng.
“She didn’t give it to you?” Ren Qian was also surprised.
“She’s not like Shen Qing, but preferable to old Ji t s obstinacy,” Ren Jiawei remarked, then added, “l have another meeting. I’ll hang up now.”
She ended the call.
On the other end of the phone, Ren Qian was accustomed to Ren Jiawei’s brisk attitude.
He called the Secretary-General.
To inquire about the matter.
“It’s more than just not giving,” the Secretary-General, having just left, walked through the alley. He couldn’t be bothered to mention Bai Lian’s demeanor; with her level of manners not even amounting to one-tenth of Ren Wanxuan’s, “She’s like two different people..”