Zhan Yijun shuddered violently and immediately shook her head. "It was the waiter's carelessness..."
She turned to Pei Songhan with a pleading look.
Pei Songhan had no choice but to stand up. "Siyu, today was just an accident."
He Siyu's temple twitched, his expression darkening further.
Oh, so she called it a misunderstanding, and he called it an accident. How perfectly synchronized their half-hearted excuses were.
Pei Songhan noticed He Siyu's worsening scowl and stiffened slightly. What was his problem?
Zhan Yijun, terrified, hurriedly defended herself, "It really was the waiter's mistake! If Third Young Master doesn’t believe me, I can have the surveillance footage pulled—"
He Siyu sneered. "Cut the nonsense. You control the cameras in your own home—of course you can arrange the footage however you like. Zhan Yijun, you dare play tricks right under my nose?"
Cold sweat dripped down Zhan Yijun’s back. "I—I really didn’t—"
"That champagne tower didn’t topple earlier, didn’t topple later, but the moment Nan Sangning walked by, it just happened to collapse?"
He Siyu’s gaze turned icy. That massive metal frame, all those glass goblets—if Pei Songhan hadn’t pulled Nan Sangning away, she’d probably be in the ICU right now!
Zhan Yijun’s face paled.
She never imagined He Siyu would stand up for Nan Sangning.
They didn’t even seem close.
Pei Songhan was also taken aback. So He Siyu had come here for Nan Sangning?
He Siyu casually grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack and smashed it onto the marble table. Shards of glass and crimson wine splattered everywhere before settling back onto the surface.
The white-and-black veined marble was now drenched in scarlet, littered with glittering fragments.
Zhan Yijun trembled, stumbling several steps back in fright.
He Siyu’s voice was frigid. "Pick it all up with your bare hands, and I’ll let this go."
Her pupils shrank, her face draining of color as she turned desperately to Pei Songhan. "Songhan-ge..."
Pei Songhan approached He Siyu, hesitating. "Siyu, Miss Nan wasn’t actually hurt today. It was a close call, but nothing happened."
He Siyu’s cold eyes remained fixed on Zhan Yijun, his tone indifferent. "You should be grateful that tower didn’t land on her. Otherwise, I’d make you swallow every last shard today."
Pei Songhan frowned slightly, realizing there was no talking him out of it now.
He and He Siyu had grown up together—he knew his temper. Though he’d mellowed over the years, that didn’t mean he’d truly changed.
Cross him, and he’d never show mercy.
Tears rolled down Zhan Yijun’s cheeks. Seeing Pei Songhan stay silent, she could only inch forward, trembling.
She began picking up the glass shards with her bare hands.
He Siyu’s voice was sharp. "Faster. Clean it all up. Not a single fragment left."
Shaking, she painstakingly gathered every wine-soaked shard, ignoring the cuts slicing into her fingers. She feared any delay would make He Siyu force her to swallow them.
Ten minutes later, the table was spotless. Zhan Yijun cradled a pile of glass in her palms, her hands bleeding where the shards had sliced her, the blood mingling with the wine in a grotesque mess.
He Siyu glanced at it, then turned and walked away.
Pei Songhan followed.
Zhan Yijun, shaking with rage, hurled the glass to the ground with a scream.
"Siyu."
Pei Songhan caught up to him outside the villa.
He Siyu paused, looking back.
"Zhan Yijun was in the wrong today. I’ll inform her parents—they’ll discipline her properly," Pei Songhan said.
He Siyu’s tone was careless. "Fine. Consider it settled."
Pei Songhan nodded. "Good."
As He Siyu turned to leave, he suddenly stopped again. "Have you set a wedding date?"
"What?"
Pei Songhan blinked, thrown by the abrupt question. He Siyu had never shown interest in his marriage.
"...December third," he answered.
"Oh."
He Siyu left without another word.
Pei Songhan stood there, baffled.
Why had he defended Nan Sangning so fiercely today?
---
After returning home, Nan Sangning took another shower. Though unharmed, her clothes had been splashed with champagne, leaving her skin sticky and uncomfortable.
Finally refreshed, she stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair before collapsing onto the bed.
Her phone screen lit up with notifications—twenty messages from Ji Yan.
[Guess what I just heard?! Zhan Yijun’s hands were shredded picking up glass shards! Covered in blood!]
[No way that’s a coincidence. Right after you nearly got crushed, she ends up injured? Someone got revenge for you, didn’t they?!]
[Was it Pei Songhan?! He got hit the worst today. Even if he’s related to her, he’s probably sick of her antics!]
Sangning stared at the rapidly flooding screen, silent.
Ji Yan, unsatisfied with the lack of response, called immediately.
Sangning answered.
"Did you see my texts?!" Ji Yan’s voice was electric with excitement. "She totally got what she deserved! Pei Songhan must’ve taught her a lesson!"
"It wasn’t him," Sangning said.
"Huh?"
"Probably not."
Knowing Pei Songhan, he wouldn’t resort to such brutality.
"Then who?" Ji Yan sounded lost.
Sangning fell quiet.
Aside from He Siyu, she couldn’t think of anyone else.
Today’s "accident" was obviously Zhan Yijun’s doing. But on her own turf, she’d have covered her tracks thoroughly.
The Nan family lacked the influence to challenge the Zhans—more importantly, they wouldn’t stand up for her. So she’d resolved to let it go for now.
In this world, sometimes you had to swallow injustices. But she had patience. One day, she’d make Zhan Yijun pay tenfold.
Yet she hadn’t expected him to intervene.
Sangning hung up, rolling onto her side with a frown.
Debts of gratitude were the hardest to repay.
She’d deal with it later.
Exhausted by the day’s chaos, she buried herself under the blankets. Sleep first.
---
At Huiyao, He Siyu sat in his office chair, glowering at his phone.
Not a single message.
Fine. She was something else.
After snapping at him earlier, she clearly didn’t give a damn about him.
He scoffed. Did she really think he’d keep indulging her?
Tossing the phone aside, he strode out without another glance.
---
The incident at the Zhans’ wine tasting faded quietly. Since Pei Songhan was the main victim, and the Nan family wasn’t deeply involved, no waves were made.
The Nans continued collaborating with the Zhans on their film projects without disruption.
Nan Sangning had also begun to immerse herself in her busy coursework. She was feeling a bit anxious—if she didn’t quickly grasp these business rules and secure her position within the Nan Group, it would be difficult for her to intervene in matters concerning the family assets.
On Wednesday, after class, Nan Sangning walked to the school gate to wait for Uncle Zhang’s car, clutching an English vocabulary book in her hand as she recited words.
After delving into business courses, she realized how crucial English was, so she decided to start memorizing vocabulary during her daily commute from then on.
“Abandon, abandon, abandon.”
She glanced at the definition: 【Give up】.
Frowning, she thought, The first word, and it’s already this unlucky.
A car pulled up in front of her, and without looking up, she reached for the door handle.
The moment she opened it, she belatedly realized something felt different today.
When she lifted her head, she saw He Siyu sitting inside.
His tone was indifferent. “Grandmother misses you. She’s invited you for dinner.”