Chapter 3 A Place Fit for Raising Children

Xing Jue left.

Si Yao approached, arms crossed. “Did you understand now?”

“Understand what?” Wen Sui’s teeth were chattering—she was clearly frightened.

Si Yao sighed softly.

When Xing Jue turned cold, the aura of his entire being shifted; it was indeed intimidating.

But even so, kindness should follow. In the gentlest voice, Si Yao spoke the coldest words: “Xing Jue has no heart. If you get entangled with him, knowing when to stop is already a gain. The worst mistake is to indulge in the delusion of spending a lifetime together.”

In her mind, Si Yao reviewed Wen Sui’s background, picking out her family, weaknesses, flaws, and greed, laying them out one by one before her. Coupled with the enticements and threats of wealth and power, Wen Sui—startled by Xing Jue’s sudden ruthlessness—seemed ready to concede.

Yet, before she could fully give in, she hesitated, sobbing, and asked if Xing Jue had always been this way.

Si Yao paused for a few seconds.

In truth, that wasn’t the case.

When Xing Jue was younger… he was still very well-behaved.

“Yes, he’s always been like this, even since birth.”

Wen Sui didn’t believe her.

Si Yao, tired from a late night, grew a bit impatient at this lack of progress.

Of all people to get involved with, why pick someone so pure? Clean, yes, but three minutes under his gentle and refined exterior couldn’t deceive anyone for long. In the end, those who fell for it would only end up hurting themselves, playing out the tired drama of “thinking oneself special.”

Si Yao no longer wasted words with her and called for someone to escort her out.

At the corner, a figure lighting a cigarette blocked her path.

The curling smoke obscured Xing Jue’s features, but could not conceal the chill in his voice. “I’ve always been this way since birth?”

Midnight had already passed. The entire Xing family was waiting—this was his courtyard. For the host to be absent was unfitting. Si Yao considered this and replied perfunctorily, “Perhaps so.”

“And what about Xing Ke? What is he like?”

The serenity and gentleness in Si Yao’s eyes seemed like a mask, unchanging for years.

Except for when she was tormented—that was when a flush would rise, eyes growing moist.

And now, after his question, her calm features curved into a smile, revealing a rare vividness—so striking it tempted one to bite, so dazzling it bordered on vexing.

Before Si Yao could reply, Xing Jue flicked away his half-finished cigarette and turned to walk toward the inner courtyard.

The monthly family banquet was divided into two tables, one for men, one for women. No matter how tired she was, Si Yao had to remain vigilant—among the wealthy, reunions were rare, and always fraught with incident.

Especially when the women gathered; a single misstep, and one would become the target.

She had barely sat down before being called up again.

“What kind of steak is this? I asked for medium-rare. At this point, you might as well have served me a brick.”

Si Yao called for the housekeeper to bring a replacement.

Tan Fei’s tone was still laced with sarcasm. “Sister Yao, are you targeting me on purpose?”

“Why would I?”

“Why not? After all, everyone knows that at twenty-two, you climbed into Xing Ke’s bed, and now I am his fiancée!”

Someone nearby tugged at Tan Fei, motioning her to say less and not to embarrass herself in front of the men.

“What’s the problem? If they hear, they hear. Are the facts forbidden?”

Si Yao had entered the Xing family at age eight. Those who knew her background all called her pitiful—save for Tan Fei, who had finally, through much effort, become Xing Ke’s fiancée.

Si Yao spoke calmly, “I just checked—the order you submitted wasn’t for medium-rare, but for well-done.”

She brought up her phone backup, showed it to everyone at the table, and said gently, “See for yourself, Tan Fei—well-done, strong teeth.”

Tan Fei’s face flushed as she forced out, “Changing the subject, are we?”

“Didn’t the subject start with steak?” Si Yao smiled serenely, took the plate the servant was about to remove, and slid it back toward Tan Fei. “Since you ordered it, you should eat it. Grandfather abhors waste—have some more.”

The matter was settled.

After the meal, Tan Fei leaned in. “What are you so smug about? No one says it, but everyone knows your days of glory are numbered.”

Si Yao’s eyes curved. “Oh?”

“A’Ni changed her surname yesterday. Now she’s eligible to marry Xing Jue.”

Si Yao’s hand stiffened slightly. She rubbed her fingers, saying nothing.

After the meal, she was summoned to the study on the second floor.

The old master stood, while Xing Jue lounged in a chair beside him, legs crossed, playing with an unlit cigarette and his phone.

It was rather disrespectful. The old master was the current head of the Xing family; no one dared act so nonchalant before him—except Xing Jue.

Si Yao closed the door. “Grandfather.”

The old master turned. “When do you two plan to have a child?”

“A child?” Xing Jue interjected carelessly.

“You’ve been engaged for seven years—what child do you think I mean?” the old master snapped.

—Click, click.

The sound of a lighter. Xing Jue lit his cigarette, his tone gentle. “Grandfather, I’m only twenty-five this year.”

Si Yao’s hand unconsciously tightened.

The old master looked at her. “It’s been so many years, why still no child? Is it that you can’t conceive, or haven’t taken care of yourself?”

“I…”

Xing Jue interrupted, “It’s because I don’t want one.”

“And why not?”

“I’m still young, and we’re only engaged. What would it mean to have a child now?” Xing Jue stood, cigarette in hand. “If you really want a child, I can go out and get you one, bring them back to raise.”

“Adopt?” The old master frowned.

Xing Jue glanced at Si Yao, who had visibly relaxed, and replied indifferently, “You can think of it that way.”

The implication being, a child with someone else.

Si Yao bowed her head. It wasn’t long before the old master gave his answer.

“That’s acceptable. Yao Yao’s temperament is well-suited to raising a child.”