Chapter 70: You only got them by crying?

Zhou Yinhe had a pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his hands resting on the back of the sofa.

"What are you talking about? I was startled as soon as I got back."

Second Lady Zhou gave Zhou Yinhe an embarrassed smile and explained, "Xiao Wu, yesterday you had people send over all that lipstick and such—I came to Feng Qi Yuan to thank you, not expecting you to be out."

Zhou Yinhe curled his lips in a light smile and said, "Auntie, don't stand on ceremony."

When someone does something bad, they really feel guilty; the butler lowered his head to avoid his gaze, and the elder sister-in-law gently smiled as she drank tea.

Only his mother spoke with righteous confidence; Zhou Yinhe wouldn't give the butler a hard time, and directly asked his own mother, "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Nothing much, just small talk, saying you've become sensible now." Ning Qing turned her face away from him, and pleasant words just flowed out.

"Is that so?" Zhou Yinhe sat up straight and looked at the butler, who gave a light cough: "I'll go check on the chef preparing lunch."

Zhou Yinhe watched his hurriedly retreating profile, snorted a laugh, didn't press further, sat on the sofa picking up a fruit plate and spearing fruit to eat, while eating he said, "You called me back in such a hurry—what's the matter?"

Ning Qing gave the eldest daughter-in-law a glance, and Shang Zhiyu then said to Zhou Yinhe, "Yesterday, when you went to pick those things for Miss Wen, are they the same as what you gave us?"

Zhou Yinhe grunted, his sunglasses shielding his eyes, his face showing no emotion, and Shang Zhiyu continued, "Not bad; our mall has quite a few brand stores—you can learn more about them."

Shang Zhiyu didn't expect him to reply, merely laying groundwork for what came next: "You and Miss Wen—are you together?"

Recalling last night's scene, Zhou Yinhe couldn't help but curl the corner of his mouth into a smile; Ning Qing saw that and rolled her eyes.

Hopeless!

But Ning Qing also knew she couldn't control it, so she handed over the sandalwood box placed aside to Zhou Yinhe, saying in a cold voice, "This was prepared for you by your grandfather when you were born; he said to give it to your future wife—your older brothers and sisters all have one."

Zhou Yinhe opened it, took a glance, then closed it, pursing his lips and said, "Thank you."

Ning Qing couldn't be bothered to look at him, but Second Lady Zhou curiously asked, "Xiao Wu, why do you keep wearing sunglasses?"

Zhou Yinhe hesitated, biting his lip a little awkwardly, and offhandedly said, "It's nothing, I got a sty, my eye's swollen, it'll be fine in a few days."

Ning Qing eyed him suspiciously, feeling he was odd no matter how she looked.

"Take them off so Mom can have a look—how could you get a sty?" she said, reaching to snatch Zhou Yinhe's sunglasses; he stood up to dodge, but just then a servant came over carrying freshly cut fruit, they bumped into each other, the sunglasses fell straight off, revealing Zhou Yinhe's obviously tear‑swollen eyes, and he had cried quite hard.

"You…" Ning Qing stared at her son's eyes, dazed for a long while, then suddenly said, "You couldn't have won them back just by crying, could you?"

Shang Zhiyu and Second Lady Zhou burst into a puff of laughter at the words, then, fearing Zhou Yinhe might be annoyed, lowered their heads to chuckle quietly, but the fragmented laughter still reached Zhou Yinhe's ears.

Zhou Yinhe gritted his teeth, turned and walked off, while Ning Qing shouted from behind, "You're not staying for lunch at home? Your elder and second brothers will be back soon."

He quickened his pace without answering, soon reaching the courtyard, only to meet Zhou Congyu head‑on in the parking area.

Seeing his second brother frown while sizing him up, Zhou Yinhe regretted having just walked off without bringing his sunglasses.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Zhou Congyu asked, then realized and exclaimed in shock, "You cried until they swelled?"

"No." Zhou Yinhe gritted his teeth and said, "I have a sty!"

He brushed past Zhou Congyu to leave, but Zhou Congyu grabbed him and examined his eyes closely, saying seriously, "This is clearly from crying, isn't it?"

"You think I'd cry?" Zhou Yinhe refused to admit it, and Zhou Congyu lightly exposed him: "Why wouldn't you cry? Didn't you cry plenty as a kid?"

As a child, whenever something didn't go his way he would cry; he'd make his little friends bully others, then when his parents and older siblings exposed him he'd cry too; back then the old doted on this little grandson the most, making them apologize to Zhou Yinhe before he'd stop—he was stubborn and still could cry.

Zhou Yinhe flared up in embarrassment and anger: "Why bring up childhood stuff? Didn't you cry as a kid?"

Zhou Congyu gave an "oh": "You also cried often three years ago."

With a swoosh, an arrow pierced Zhou Yinhe's heart; he laughed in anger, shoved Zhou Congyu's hand aside and strode big‑steps toward his car, while Zhou Congyu called from behind, "Why did you give me those things? I don't even need them."

"I gave them to you for your future wife!" Zhou Yinhe tossed off the line, got in the car, started it and drove off; Zhou Congyu stood where he was, watching his car speed out of Feng Qi Yuan at breakneck pace, unable to stop laughing.

Feng Qi Yuan was heavily guarded for some reason, with checkpoint after checkpoint; only after the car passed the final gate did Zhou Yinhe pull over to the side of the road, take out his phone to call Wen Ling— the call‑in‑progress tone sounded—and, frowning, he restarted the engine and headed for Lang Po Wan.

Wen Ling hadn't slept long when the phone woke her; she groggily glanced at the caller ID—it was an unfamiliar Sijiucheng number.

As soon as she answered, the caller greeted, "Miss Cousin, I'm the butler of the Qin family."

Wen Ling blinked, her half‑closed eyes opening, and she said softly, "Hello, what's up?"

"Miss Cousin, Old Master's birthday is tomorrow; I want to invite you on his behalf." The butler glanced at the Old Master, whose ears were all perked up, then spoke into the phone gently: "Although Old Master is angry about what you did before, he dotes on you the most, so don't hold a grudge against him."

Wen Ling smiled and asked, "Does Grandfather know you're inviting me?"

Upon hearing that, the Old Master frantically waved at the butler, who could only reply, "I don't know."

"Well then I'll go—isn't that a bit risky? What if Grandfather gets angry?" Wen Ling sat up, swept her hair behind her, her eyes holding deep meaning, and said softly, "Besides, a few days ago my younger cousin and younger cousin came together to find me, warning me not to go to the Qin household; I'm afraid that if I did, things would turn ugly."

Hearing that, the Old Master furrowed his brows, the butler gave him a troubled look, then Wen Ling continued, "I'll prepare a gift and have someone send it to Grandfather; as for me, I'll just not disturb him."

Wen Ling hung up, the Old Master's face darkened, he narrowed his eyes, mouth twisted straight, gave a cold snort to the butler, and said, "Qin Yuyang gets out of school—pick him up and bring him here."

The butler sighed, lowering his voice to advise, "The young master is young and easily swayed; you shouldn't be angry with him."

"Our Qin family, top to bottom, is upright and honest—we don't know whose genes we inherited, but playing tricks has come back to bite me!" The Old Master flung down the remark and stormed off in anger.

As for who that remark was about, the Old Master didn't say it outright, but the butler, having been by his side for decades, naturally understood.