Qin Jiran watched and couldn’t help feeling happy, but this happiness didn’t last long before it was ruined by someone.
Qin Zhenyi made another phone call, and Jiang Xiaobin answered it just like before, while Qin Jiran listened by his side.
"Mr. Qin, are you looking for Brother Qin? Brother Qin is currently filming. I’ll make sure to tell him you’re looking for him!" Jiang Xiaobin’s voice was no longer cold; instead, he spoke cheerfully, giving off a warm vibe that, in reality, was nothing but perfunctory.
"Put him on the phone, immediately!" Having received such a response several times, Qin Zhenyi finally lost his patience. He couldn’t believe that a mere assistant dared to treat him this way—it must be Qin Jiran’s instruction, which he couldn’t tolerate even more. No matter what, Qin Jiran was his son; how could he be so rude to him!
Qin Zhenyi’s voice was loud, and Jiang Xiaobin deliberately turned the phone toward Qin Jiran, so Jiran heard everything very clearly.
Jiang Xiaobin looked at Qin Jiran questioningly, waiting for his response—whether to continue brushing it off or to answer the call. Qin Zhenyi was obviously losing patience, and it was uncertain what would happen if Jiran didn’t pick up.
At this moment, Jiang Xiaobin couldn’t help but sigh; the members of the Qin family were indeed annoying. Old Master Qin had finally stopped making calls, but now the second Mr. Qin was at it again, leading him to wonder if the members of the Qin family had coordinated this timing.
Qin Jiran answered by taking the phone and then spoke in an extremely indifferent voice, "This is Qin Jiran, what do you want?"
Though it should have been a question, when spoken by Qin Jiran, it carried no inflection and sounded more like a statement, which came across especially cold to the listener.
Jiang Xiaobin shrank his neck a little bit at the side. Brother Qin’s personality had always been somewhat cold, rarely speaking except when acting. But lately, he had become more approachable, and the cold aura surrounding him had softened—clearly the doing of President Su.
But even in his past coldness, he was never as icy as he was today, as if devoid of all emotion, his repulsion unmistakeable.
Alas, what should have been a father and son relationship had deteriorated to this point. One couldn’t help but lament the capriciousness of fate. However, it was all Qin Zhenyi’s fault; a father who shirked his responsibilities and threw his own son into an orphanage, not caring for twenty-eight years, such a heartless father truly had no right to be one. How could one blame Qin Jiran for his cold-heartedness?
"I thought you would call me ’father.’" The voice was equally cold but carried an uncontrollable anger and a sense of condescension.
Qin Jiran wanted to laugh—’father’? This term had disappeared from his vocabulary since he came of age, and now he reserved the title solely for Father Su, the man who deserved to be called ’father,’ not the man on the other end of the phone who had abandoned him!
"I thought we didn’t know each other." In fact, they had only met once and had barely spoken; to say they didn’t know each other was indeed the truth.
"You think by denying it, I cease to be your father? Or do you think the Su family is enough of a backbone for you, allowing you to disregard the Qin family?" Qin Zhenyi was very angry, his words becoming sharp. Being told by his own son that they were strangers was a humiliation only he could understand.
But as the saying goes, you reap what you sow, no matter how humiliating, it was all his own doing! It’s just that Qin Zhenyi would obviously not see it that way. To people of their status, who held themselves in high regard, everyone thought their views were the correct ones, paying no real attention to others’ opinions—in other words, being self-righteous.