He Siyu's narrow phoenix eyes lifted slightly as he drawled in a deep voice, "I'm a man of pure and simple mind, always too trusting of others."
Gu Xingchen, sitting beside him, choked on his wine and coughed violently into his hand.
Sang Ning: "..."
She could see it now—this man was not only domineering but also shameless.
Sang Ning forced a smile. "Indeed, Mr. He is a man of sincerity."
He Siyu neither confirmed nor denied it, merely curling his lips. "So, where did you learn your treasure appraisal skills?"
Sang Ning made up an excuse on the spot. "I once met a wandering monk in the mountains and took him as my master. He lived near my home for a few years, and I often brought him rice and flour. In return, he taught me many things."
"A monk?"
"He traveled far and wide. He left last year, and I don’t know where he is now."
The grandmother who had raised Sang Ning had passed away earlier this year. It was because of her impending death that she had posted Sang Ning’s information in the newspaper, hoping to help her find her birth parents.
As for the story about the mountains, she could spin it however she liked.
There wasn’t much credibility to such a tale, and most people wouldn’t believe it. But it didn’t matter—they had no way to verify it anyway.
Ji Yan chimed in, nodding. "Yes, yes, I can vouch for her. She didn’t even have WeChat before, so there’s no way she could’ve kept in touch with that monk."
He Siyu’s gaze darkened as he studied Sang Ning’s clear, guileless eyes.
He didn’t press further, leaving it unclear whether he believed her or not.
He Siyu’s phone vibrated. He picked it up and answered, "Grandmother."
A voice on the other end asked, "How did it go? Did you win the bid for that pipa?"
"I did."
"Don’t just buy anything—what if it’s a fake? Did you have it authenticated?"
He Siyu glanced at Sang Ning, his tone lazy. "Don’t worry, Grandmother. I had an expert appraise it."
Sang Ning blinked in surprise. Expert? Her?
"Mm. I’ll bring it to you soon."
After hanging up, He Siyu turned to Sang Ning. "Thank you for your help today, Miss Nan."
Relieved that he was finally leaving, Sang Ning exhaled slightly.
She smiled. "No need for thanks. It was nothing."
"In return, I’d like to offer you a piece of advice."
Sang Ning blinked, her gaze unusually earnest.
Coming from someone as influential as He Siyu, even an offhand remark could be worth a fortune.
Meeting her sincere eyes, he lowered his voice. "Your smile is fake."
"..."
With a smirk, like a child who’d just pulled off a prank, he turned and walked away.
Sang Ning finally snapped out of her daze, frowning as she watched his retreating figure.
The banquet came to an end.
Sang Ning and Ji Yan walked out of the venue together.
"Let’s keep in touch on WeChat. I’ll invite you out next time," Ji Yan said, having won a pair of jade ruyi scepters that day—she owed Sang Ning a proper thank-you.
"Sure."
Ji Yan climbed into a Maserati, waving at Sang Ning before driving off.
Uncle Zhang had already brought the car around. Just as Sang Ning was about to get in, she heard an argument behind her.
"Siya, you’d rather believe that bitch Nan Sang Ning than me?!" Chen Zheng demanded angrily.
Nan Siya, her eyes red, shook off his hand. "Then explain why you keep defending Zhan Yijun! You’re clearly hiding something!"
"Siya, stop being unreasonable!"
Nan Siya’s eyes widened. "You think I’m being unreasonable?"
"Yes! You’re always paranoid about something, and it’s exhausting! I’ve had enough! I arranged all this for you today, and now you’re blaming me?!"
"You’ve been looking down on me, haven’t you? Then just break up with me!"
Tears spilled from Nan Siya’s eyes as she sobbed pitifully.
Chen Zheng softened at the sight and pulled her into his arms. "Siya, don’t be like this. It hurts me to see you cry."
"Wuwu… you don’t love me anymore."
"How could that be? Siya, don’t worry—I’d never break up with you. If you want it, I’d give you my life!"
"Brother Zheng!" Nan Siya hugged him, moved to tears.
Sang Ning stood there expressionlessly, watching their performance.
She found it fascinating how they could go from a heated argument to reconciliation in under three minutes.
Nan Siya finally noticed Sang Ning’s presence. Wiping her tears, she glared at her. "What are you looking at? Still trying to drive a wedge between us?"
Sang Ning: "..."
"I’m going home. Are you coming?"
They had arrived in the same car, and she was only waiting out of courtesy.
Chen Zheng gently held Nan Siya. "Don’t worry, Siya. I’ll take you home."
Nan Siya sneered at Sang Ning. "Go back by yourself. Brother Zheng will take me. Nan Sang Ning, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You’re just jealous and trying to ruin our relationship! Well, let me tell you—Brother Zheng only loves me!"
Sang Ning: "..."
Nan Siya continued her tirade. "No matter how hard you try, no one will ever love you! Not Mom and Dad, and certainly not Brother Zheng!"
Sang Ning: "..."
Why would I want the love of such trash?
Chen Zheng, emboldened by Nan Siya’s words, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and declared to Sang Ning, "No matter what, the only Nan family daughter I’ll marry is Siya."
Sang Ning smiled. "You two really are a perfect match."
Chen Zheng and Nan Siya: ???
"Both of you have a flair for drama and…" Sang Ning spoke slowly, "an inexplicable sense of confidence."
Nan Siya froze for a second before exploding. "Nan Sang Ning, what the hell do you mean—"
But Sang Ning had already had enough. She pulled the car door open and got in. "Drive."
Uncle Zhang hit the gas, speeding away.
The He Family Old Mansion stood deep within Wisteria Lane—a modest Western-style house. Old Madam He was sentimental and refused to move, so her children and grandchildren had no choice but to visit her often.
The wrought-iron gate creaked open as the butler ushered in a Bentley under the night sky.
"Young Master He has returned."
He Siyu stepped out, carrying a leather case, and headed straight upstairs.
Old Madam He sat on the sofa reading a book. The moment she heard his unhurried footsteps, she knew it was him.
"Grandmother, I’ve brought the pipa for you."
He Siyu placed the case on the table and opened it.
Old Madam He set her book aside and lifted the pipa, admiring it. "It’s even more beautiful in person than in the pictures."
"How much did you spend on it?"
He Siyu lounged back on the sofa. "A hundred million."
Old Madam He’s eyes widened. "You spendthrift!"
"Grandmother, I bought it especially for you—consider it a belated birthday gift." His tone was nonchalant.
Old Madam He scowled. "I suppose I should be grateful for your rare display of filial piety."
Old Madam He couldn't help caressing the pipa with fondness. "If it's genuine, then the money would be well spent. But you must be absolutely certain—what if it turns out to be a counterfeit? Wouldn't that make us fools? Have you had an expert verify it?"
"Mhm."
He Siyu replied lazily, "If you're still worried, Grandma, why not invite someone to personally appraise it for you again?"
