Sang Lu reluctantly endured a bit more small talk in the living room.
She finally got a brief reprieve when Old Sang headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner, allowing her tense nerves to relax momentarily.
But before she could catch her breath, Lin Yueyin pulled her into another room.
"Lulu, be honest with me—did you come home suddenly today because something happened? Did you and Feng Yan have a fight?"
"…?" Sang Lu froze.
Lin Yueyin could tell her daughter was acting strangely.
Normally cheerful around everyone, today she seemed ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
Sang Lu had always been even-tempered, so this abrupt shift couldn’t be without reason.
After some thought, Lin Yueyin concluded it must be marital troubles—that Sang Lu had been slighted in the Feng household.
Sang Lu: "No, Feng Yan and I get along just fine."
Especially these past couple of days—they’d made noticeable progress.
Lin Yueyin remained skeptical. "Really?"
"Really~" Sang Lu smiled, dispelling her mother’s concerns. "Besides, even if I wanted to argue with him, it’s not like we could."
At this, Lin Yueyin’s expression suddenly turned serious.
Her tone lowered as she changed the subject:
"Speaking of which, Lulu, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you."
"Will Feng Yan’s mutism ever improve?"
…
Will Feng Yan’s mutism ever improve?
In that brief, prophetic dream, Sang Lu had searched for clues.
From what she knew, Feng Yan hadn’t been born mute.
It was sudden—psychogenic mutism.
In the dream, fragments about his condition were scarce.
She couldn’t discern the cause of his illness.
Nor did she know whether he ever spoke again.
Sang Lu fell into thought.
Mutism…
Meant there was no organic damage to his speech organs.
He simply chose silence, refusing to speak under psychological influences.
With proper treatment, addressing the subconscious anxieties and conflicts, full recovery was entirely possible.
Sang Lu pressed her lips together. "He… could recover."
Lin Yueyin exhaled in relief.
"Good, good. As long as there’s hope."
When the two stepped out of the room, the others in the living room were watching TV and snacking on sunflower seeds.
On screen, a financial program was airing—an annual ranking of top publicly listed companies and their CEOs.
Feng Corporation was among the leaders.
Sang Lu’s gaze drifted toward the screen.
A familiar figure flashed by.
Feng Yan’s tall frame was impeccably tailored in a sharp suit, accentuating his near-perfect proportions.
His features were striking—deep-set eyes, a straight nose, a wristwatch gleaming against his pale skin.
The footage appeared to be an unofficial press shot; he walked ahead of a group of assistants, exuding an intimidating aura.
This was the first time Sang Lu had seen Feng Yan in his role as CEO.
The same face, yet colder than the one she saw at home.
She couldn’t help but stare.
Zhuang's Father chuckled.
"Now I know why Sang Lu can’t get a boyfriend."
Elder aunt took the bait. "Why?"
"Her standards are too high," Zhuang's Father declared. "Look at her—eyes glued to those big-shot CEOs on TV. Of course she’d overlook ordinary men."
"Sang Lu, no offense, but young people shouldn’t aim too high. Be practical. Take our Xiaoxiao—her boyfriend’s already doing well, making over a million a year—"
He glanced dismissively at the TV. "—Honestly, not much worse than those tycoons on screen."
Elder aunt gasped. "Wow, Xiaoxiao’s boyfriend earns that much?"
Zhuang's Father puffed up. "Of course."
The back-and-forth was so performative it amused Sang Lu.
She was about to tease them when Lin Yueyin cut in sharply—
"Don’t pretend to know what you don’t. The difference is massive."
Zhuang's Father turned. "?"
Lin Yueyin gave him a look. "Executives at listed companies earn way more than a million a year, let alone CEOs."
"Tch—" Zhuang's Father scoffed. "And you’d know?"
Lin Yueyin: "That’s why I said you’re pretending. A quick search would tell you."
She’d actually done the research.
When she learned her daughter was betrothed to a Feng, she’d looked up Feng Corporation.
While official details were scarce, gossip articles speculating about the family’s wealth were plentiful.
The numbers were staggering.
"That’s not the point," Zhuang's Father backtracked, trying to save face. "The point is, no matter how much they earn, it’s irrelevant to us. You think men like that would ever fancy your daughter? I’m just saying she shouldn’t aim beyond her reach—"
"Don’t bother ‘educating’ her for me," Lin Yueyin interrupted. "Besides, my daughter is sweet, filial, kind, and beautiful. She’s worthy of the best men out there."
Zhuang's Father knew he was outmatched.
Grumbling, he grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
"Fine, I’ll shut up. Can’t win an argument with women."
Lin Yueyin, unlike her mild-mannered husband, never let anyone have the last word.
She coolly delivered the final blow:
"Good. Keep it that way."
Zhuang's Father gaped. "!!"
After a stunned silence, he sighed in defeat and stayed quiet.
Sang Lu bit back a laugh.
Classic Lin Yueyin!
She’d shut Zhuang's Father down in just a few words.
After the brief clash, the living room atmosphere turned awkward.
The previously chatty group now spoke sparingly, half-heartedly watching TV.
Bored, Sang Lu got up and headed to the kitchen.
Time to help her dad prep dinner.
Inside, Sang Changfeng was frying small fish.
"Dad, make extra."
"Oh? Craving them after so long?" He grinned proudly. "Not to brag, but even restaurants can’t beat my cooking."
"Obviously~" Sang Lu played along. "That’s why I want more—to bring some back for Feng Yan. Let him taste your skills too."
"…" Sang Changfeng paused, then feigned offense. "You little rascal. Here I thought you missed my cooking."
Sang Lu grinned. "I do! Everything you make is amazing~"
Sang Changfeng laughed. "Yeah, yeah. All talk, this one."
"Takes after you, Old Sang," she shot back.
Jokes aside, Sang Changfeng pulled out all the remaining fish from the fridge.
…
At dinner, Sang Lu ate quickly and excused herself early.
She had no desire to run into her cousin Zhuang Xiao.
Just remembering their last awkward encounter at the barbecue joint made her cringe.
All those sickly sweet remarks had her toes curling.
Before leaving, she pulled Lin Yueyin aside and sternly reminded her to keep an eye on Old Sang—make sure he didn’t slip up.
Lin Yueyin gave her a reassuring look.
Stepping out of the apartment building, she spotted the chauffeur by the tree-lined path.
He hurried to open the car door for her.
Standing respectfully by the door with hands at her sides.
"Madam, please get in the car."
"Shh!" Sang Lu pulled her hat lower, "Keep your voice down!"
In a flash, she slipped into the vehicle.
The driver: "?"
The car started moving.
At that moment, a Mercedes-Benz approached from the opposite lane.
Zhuang Xiao's eyes widened abruptly at the sight of the gleaming emblem and the sleek, fluid lines of the luxury car.
"My god, a top-tier luxury car? Since when does our neighborhood have cars like this?"
From the passenger seat, Zhuang's Mother followed her gaze.
Puzzled, she asked, "What kind of car is that? I've never seen that emblem before. Is it better than a Mercedes?"
"Way... way better."
Zhuang Xiao was still reeling from the shock.
That emblem only ever appeared in high-end magazines.
Her eyes stayed glued, trying to catch a glimpse of who might be inside the other car.
As the two vehicles passed each other—
"Ah—!"
Zhuang's Mother gasped.
"Sang Lu!? That person in the car... it looked like Sang Lu!"
Zhuang Xiao was stunned. "What?"
No way.
Sang Lu could afford a car like that?
She only had that beat-up electric scooter.
Zhuang Xiao strained her eyes for a better look.
But all she could make out now was a faint silhouette.
The woman inside wore a hat, her naturally wavy hair partially obscuring her face.
After a few seconds of silence,
Zhuang Xiao still found her mother's guess absurd.
"It couldn’t be Sang Lu. You must’ve mistaken her because of your poor eyesight."
