NB Chapter34

My departure from the living room was nothing more than an attempt to escape that suffocating atmosphere, but Ah Hai’s single comment made me feel as if the entire world were a landscape of oppression.

However, I had no intention of arguing endlessly with him.

First, I don’t like losing my temper for no reason, and besides, Ah Hai treats me well. Second, my taste in clothing is indeed mediocre; I’m best suited for undercover work, but the moment I’m in my own clothes, I just blend into the crowd; completely unremarkable, impossible to pick out. If you really had to identify me, I’d probably be the worst-dressed person there. Third, Ah Hai never bickers with anyone; no one has ever seen him lose his temper.

His temperament is as stable as a green stone at the bottom of a stream resting in the water for a decade as if it were a single day, quietly observing the hurried passing of fish and vines.

A person’s character is shaped, more or less, by their environment. A positive example would be Li Yi; though he comes from a single-parent home, his mother is optimistic and kind, allowing the two siblings to develop a poised and confident personality. The three of them live in harmony, and Li Yi has even cultivated a touch of dash and indulgence. As for a negative example, there’s a glaring one: Zhang Mingsheng. This man’s original family was a den of sinister winds, and his elders were as twisted as villains in a horror film. No matter how adorable a child might begin as, if raised at that old man’s knee, it was almost inevitable they would grow up warped into something unrecognizable.

Ah Hai is different. The first time I met him, he already had this air of watching the clouds roll by. He has been by Zhang Mingsheng’s side for many years, yet he has never rejected Zhang Mingsheng’s demands due to his own personality, nor has he been tainted by Zhang Mingsheng’s twisted aura and become cold-blooded or heartless. He and Ah Shan are like elite employees hired by Zhang Mingsheng for a ton of gold; they don’t have to do laundry, sweep floors, or balance the books; they are only responsible for playing the role of loyal servants who keep their heads down and act without question. In their spare time, the master and servants go their separate ways, never interfering with one another.

Just like now, he dutifully pushed me into the garden for a stroll. Since there was a breeze outside, he even thoughtfully draped a coat over my shoulders.

In the past, the family’s flowers and shrubs were tended to by the old butler. He favored elegant blooms and sturdy trees, meticulously cultivating many precious varieties. Now that we had moved to the Red Residence, Zhang Mingsheng had sent people to help the butler transplant whatever could be moved, but the grounds here were smaller and the garden conditions more limited; it simply wasn’t as lush as before. After the move, the weather gradually turned cold, and the butler’s joints began to ache, so he took a leave of absence, saying he would wait until spring to plant new flowers.

He said it with such composure that it gave me something to look forward to.

But now, facing this desolate garden, I couldn’t even think of an opening for small talk. There are many techniques for interrogating suspects; the most important being to push from the periphery toward the center, layer by layer, without alerting the target. Having been away from the interrogation room for so many years, my brain had grown rusty; I didn’t even know where to begin to fish for information from Ah Hai.

After braving the wind for about three minutes, my palms began to grow cold. Fearing the cold and unwilling to endure it for nothing, I finally spoke up. “Is Song Yixing very close to your boss? I don’t think I’ve seen him around much.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a pang of regret; it was far too direct. Although Ah Hai and I had developed a tacit understanding over the years and he generally didn’t report our day-to-day conversations to Zhang Mingsheng, he would still track me down the moment I tried to slip away.

I trusted him, yet I couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous, instinctively wrapping his coat tighter around myself.

What if Ah Hai suddenly had a change of heart and became entirely devoted to his master?

“They have always known each other, but they’ve been in contact more frequently over the last two years,” Ah Hai replied with his usual calm, making my anxiety seem misplaced. He paused, then added, “Sir doesn’t like people from the business world disturbing the peace at home. It’s normal that you haven’t met him, Madam.”

The Song and Zhang families have always collaborated, though it was always the older generation calling the shots. These past few years, Zhang Yaonian’s health has been failing while Zhang Mingsheng’s star has been on the rise, so it’s only natural that their interactions have increased. If he wants to seize power, he must reach a consensus with the Song family; playing nice with Song Yixing is perfectly normal.

It seems there really isn’t anything about Song Yixing that warrants special concern.

I have a good impression of him, partly because he was so quirky as a child and partly because he saved Keke. Compared to Zhan Weiqing, he’s as clean as a sheet of printer paper and as pure and kind as a golden retriever befriending a thief. Come to think of it, he seemed to be the first real friend Zhang Mingsheng had made in years.

Friends with a ten-year age gap, a cross-generational kind of friendship.

Zhang Mingsheng’s social standing is truly that pathetic.

When that name drifted through my mind, I suddenly sensed something was off. I hadn’t seen Zhan Weiqing’s irritating face much lately. It’s rare for him not to be hovering in my line of sight, and surprisingly, I found myself somewhat unaccustomed to it.

Some people look sinister at first glance; they put on an act in front of you and make you feel nauseous. But once they disappear, you become fearful; afraid of what venomous little schemes they might be concocting behind your back.

My attitude toward Zhan Weiqing has always been written plainly on my face, so I didn’t need to be cautious about asking after him. I leaned back, squinted my eyes, and asked lazily, “What has Zhan Weiqing been up to lately? I haven’t seen him in a while. Did he offend someone with his reporting and get kidnapped?”

“A new casino opened in Macau recently. I heard Young Master Zhan went to show his support and hasn’t returned to Hong Kong yet.”

“A casino?” I suddenly snapped my eyes open, tilted my head, and looked up at Ah Hai. “Why would he be supporting a casino? Is it owned by the Zhan family?”

Ah Hai’s eyes were as calm as amber.

Seeing him like this, I knew I had guessed wrong, so I ventured another question, cautious and tentative, “…Don’t tell me, Zhan Weiqing likes to gamble?”

Ah Hai nodded, his confirmation as solid as a nail in a board, “Young Master Zhan is a compulsive gambler.”

I couldn’t help but frown as I turned my head back, my mind already meticulously churning over this detail.

Once a gambling addict hits the table, they get so hyperactive that their eyes turn red; the addiction is stronger than smoking. I’ve often thought that even if you cut off their heads to use as chips, those bloodshot eyes would still follow the dice across the table until the very last second.

I genuinely couldn’t imagine Zhan Weiqing with his eyes reddened, staring intently at a deck of cards.

Truly, you can’t judge a book by its cover.

“Is he any good? Does he have luck?” I asked again.

Ah Hai’s implication was crystal clear, “At the gambling table, even good luck can’t hold out against several days and nights of exhaustion.”

“Isn’t he afraid of being pinned to the table and having his fingers chopped off? Does the Zhan family just let him carry on like that?”

The Zhan family was also a large one; large mainly because the patriarch’s wife had passed away years earlier, and he hadn’t remained idle since, keeping many mistresses and fathering an unholy number of illegitimate children. Zhan Weiqing was the only illegitimate son the family officially acknowledged—because he was the child of the late Mrs. Zhan’s cousin.

However, I’d always suspected that many of those illegitimate kids might not even be the old man’s biological children. He was well up there in years and prone to overindulgence; how could his swimmers possibly be that resilient?

Even Zhang Mingsheng shared this theory of mine.

“No one in the Zhan family knows.”

“Then where does he get the money for his stake?”

“Sir has lent him some.”

“How much is ‘some’?”

Ah Hai finally looked troubled. He couldn’t say, or perhaps he didn’t dare to. He likely feared I would react like a typical housewife by blaming my husband for playing the big shot and lending out money even when he shouldn’t.

He was overthinking it. I would have been more than happy to see the Zhang family go bankrupt tomorrow. Having spent the first half of my life as a law-abiding citizen, it hadn’t occurred to me that gambling could be such a marvelous catalyst for ruin.

However, judging by Ah Hai’s hesitation, the amount Zhang Mingsheng lent Zhan Weiqing must be staggering.

He certainly was willing to go all out for his “savior.”

My mood grew heavy.

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