Chapter Fifteen: Turning Down Kindness

Xiao Cheng gazed at Zhuo Qinglian across the table, and perhaps because the memory was so distant, he found himself at a loss for words. If there was anyone in this world who truly cared about him, besides his grandmother and his four sisters-in-law, it was the woman before him.

In the past, there had been a considerable age gap between them, and he’d always instinctively regarded Zhuo Qinglian as an elder sister. It was undeniable: every man, at some point in his youth, harbors a fondness for elder women, and he was no exception. So even in his previous life, despite all the misdeeds he committed, he never wronged Zhuo Qinglian.

Now, however, he was actually a year older than Zhuo Qinglian—a subtle shift that made the once seven-years-older woman appear, in his eyes, suddenly as a girl.

Zhuo Qinglian was alluring, radiant with the energy of youth.

She swayed her waist, casting Xiao Cheng a glance brimming with charm, then slowly settled herself on his lap.

Though Xiao Cheng possessed an unwavering mind, he was still a normal man—perhaps even more so than most, especially with the lingering effects of the CML2 drug. At that moment, he could no longer restrain himself.

He gently wrapped his arms around Zhuo Qinglian’s supple waist, drawing a peal of laughter from her.

“Am I beautiful, sister?” Zhuo Qinglian’s laughter was like silver bells; at this moment, she was far from the formidable matriarch of the underworld, and more like a gentle young wife coquettishly seeking affection in her husband's embrace.

Today, Zhuo Qinglian felt a little surprised. Xiao Cheng, usually restless, was unusually silent. Sitting on his lap didn’t feel the same as before; before, it was as if a big sister was teasing a little boy, but now...

The feeling was complicated. She felt like a kitten curling up in her master’s arms.

Zhuo Qinglian’s body softened; she knew it was time to stop, lest she lose control herself. Though she desired him, she couldn’t allow herself to give in.

Seven years ago, she hadn’t known Xiao Cheng practiced the art of preserving his vital essence, so she had taken his virginity, causing his cultivation to dissipate—the true energy he had painstakingly cultivated for years vanished in an instant. The experience haunted her with guilt, and she never allowed herself to cross that line with Xiao Cheng again.

Xiao Cheng, already absorbed in the moment, suddenly felt her slip from his embrace like a snake.

He realized Zhuo Qinglian’s skills in the art of flexibility had improved.

He was slightly disappointed, but not surprised; it wasn’t the first time. Every time Zhuo Qinglian pushed him to the brink, she would abruptly stop, then—

“This will ruin your cultivation!” she said apologetically, then continued, “Xiao Rou is quite skilled; I’ll call her over!”

This was Zhuo Qinglian’s ingenious solution: it wouldn’t destroy Xiao Cheng’s cultivation, nor leave him frustrated. If Xiao Cheng had cooperated in his previous life, perhaps he would have advanced long ago; but back then, no one could restrain him, and he cared nothing for such things.

Hearing Zhuo Qinglian’s words, Xiao Cheng felt a touch of gratitude. It had happened often in his previous life, but he used to think she was meddling; only now did he understand the depth of her concern.

He shook his head in refusal. “I’m no longer practicing the preservation art; it’s not necessary.”

He knew Zhuo Qinglian wouldn’t believe him, but he instinctively told her the truth. A woman willing to do so much for him deserved his honesty.

Zhuo Qinglian rolled her eyes at him with a seductive flourish. How could she believe him? She wasn’t a cultivator herself, but she knew enough to realize that such a fundamental technique couldn’t be changed on a whim.

She persisted, wanting Xiao Rou to help Xiao Cheng relieve his passion, but Xiao Cheng kept shaking his head.

Her motives were clear: she wanted to help him, to spare him from seeking other women—not for their sake, but to prevent him from repeatedly losing his cultivation.

Since Xiao Cheng refused, there was nothing more she could do.

“I’ll wait for you,” Zhuo Qinglian said softly, disappointed.

The meaning was clear enough: she would wait until he reached the stage of refinement, and then everything would be possible.

Their relationship was complex, but not about love—perhaps mutual need, perhaps mutual reliance. Whether in Zhuo Qinglian’s heart as the queen of the underworld, or in Xiao Cheng’s mind as a notorious playboy, love was nothing but a lie.

Xiao Cheng didn’t press her to believe him; he wasn’t someone who thought only with his desires. After this episode, his mood was dulled.

Zhuo Qinglian wanted to say more, but noticed Xiao Cheng gently helping her into her clothes, his gaze tender. Suddenly, something deep within her was stirred.

“Should I do it myself?” Zhuo Qinglian gathered her courage to speak. Even she couldn’t believe she’d offered such a thing.

Xiao Cheng smiled, showing gleaming teeth, clearly understanding what she meant, but shook his head and declined her ‘kindness.’

...

At midnight, Xiao Cheng drove his deep yellow Lamborghini, pushing it to its limits.

Zhuo Qinglian had wanted him to stay, but he had no interest. As for the CML2 pills, once he saw Zhuo Qinglian, he knew their source—they had always come from him. He only instructed her never to give such drugs to others. If not for him, Fang Yujia would have ingested them tonight. Whether such things happened in his previous life, and who resolved them, didn’t matter to him.

The third boss of the Qinglian Gang watched him leave, not daring to utter a word, bowing humbly. Xiao Cheng didn’t bother to guess what the old man thought—it was simply not his concern.

Upon returning home, he found his sister-in-law still awake, sitting calmly on the sofa, distractedly watching TV with the remote in hand.

Fang Yujia wore pure white pajamas, loose enough to conceal her delicate figure, leaving only her bare feet visible. Yet even so, it made one wonder about the beauty hidden beneath.

Her expression was indifferent, her beautiful eyes tinged with coldness and a trace of disappointment.

She was a frail woman, managing Hu Xiao Pharmaceuticals with difficulty, and now her brother-in-law had sabotaged her partnership with the Qiao family, shattering her hopes. She felt helpless, uncertain what to do—was Hu Xiao Pharmaceuticals destined to be ruined by her hands?

Even though she was a top student from Huaqing University, faced with such internal and external crises, she had no solution.

At this moment, Fang Yujia was stripped of her usual strong-willed demeanor at the company; exhausted, she leaned back on the sofa languidly.

Xiao Cheng looked at his alluring sister-in-law resting on the sofa, feeling a strange emotion. He shook his head, knowing it was the influence of the CML2 drug, and forcibly suppressed his chaotic thoughts.

“You’re back. Dinner’s in the kitchen—help yourself if you’re hungry,” Fang Yujia said coldly, long accustomed to her brother-in-law’s antics and paying no mind to today’s events.

She promptly noticed a faint lipstick mark on Xiao Cheng’s neck, frowned, and added, “Go take a shower.”

Hearing her words, Xiao Cheng realized that his sister-in-law, who always insisted on early sleep, had been waiting for him, and had even prepared his favorite braised pork.

A warmth and happiness welled up inside him—a feeling he hadn’t experienced for years.

He noticed her disappointment, and understood why, having learned everything from the third boss tonight—he guessed what troubled her.

It was all due to the company’s problems. Remembering what his fourth uncle had done, Xiao Cheng had already made up his mind: such betrayal would not be tolerated.

“Yuer, don’t worry about the company. Leave it to me!” Xiao Cheng said, then headed for the bathroom.

Fang Yujia was stunned by his words. She had never expected anything from Xiao Cheng, but that sentence was something she’d never heard before.

When had her brother-in-law ever cared about the family, or about anyone else? Hearing Xiao Cheng speak so confidently, she doubted his abilities, but her mood suddenly improved—it was at least a step forward.

Xiao Cheng promised to take care of the company, and he had his ways. What was difficult for others was trivial to him; his greatest strength was simplifying complicated matters.

He entered the bathroom and stared at his youthful face in the mirror, momentarily stunned to see a clear lipstick mark on his neck. Clearly Qinglian’s handiwork—women, always scheming.

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