Chapter 225: Cold Eyes at the High Gate

After the not-so-pleasant blind date at Beihai Park ended, the two families, each with their own thoughts, closed their doors and commented separately.

In the Lou family's small Western-style villa hidden among the green trees, the atmosphere was quiet to the point of being stagnant. Lou Xiaoe took off her coat, handed it to the servant waiting nearby, her face expressionless, and walked straight to the living room.

Lou Zhenhua lowered the newspaper in his hand, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and spoke in a gentle tone that brooked no argument: "Xiaoe, you're back? Did you see the person? How do you feel?"

He was slim in build, wearing a finely textured dark Zhongshan suit; although he no longer held his position, the dignified bearing cultivated over years of privilege remained.

Lou's mother also rose from the sofa, wearing an elegant cheongsam with a cashmere shawl over it; her features resembled Lou Xiaoe's to some extent, but bore more of the poise and worry left by the years. She said nothing, but her eyes were full of inquiry.

Lou Xiaoe walked to the edge of the sofa and sat down, picked up the hot tea the servant had just brewed, took a small sip, then lifted her eyelids, her tone flat as if commenting on an unrelated object: "I saw him. Xu Damao." She paused, seeming to search for the right words, then pursed her lips with obvious disdain: "He's… horse-faced, looks like no good person. His speech is oily and slick, his eyes dart about, he has no proper bearing."

Her words were blunt and left no room for mercy. In the education and circles she had been exposed to since childhood, what was valued was refinement and grace, a calm and restrained demeanor.

Xu Damao's deliberate performance that could not hide his shrewdness seemed, in her view, utterly unsuitable for polite company, even carrying a hint of the slickness of street ruffians; such a person has no integrity, forgets righteousness for profit.

Lou's mother's brows knit at once, she looked worriedly at her husband. She had already felt some aversion to the Xu family's connection as "former servants," and hearing her daughter say this, her heart turned cold halfway.

Lou Zhenhua's face showed no change; he merely tapped his fingers lightly on the sofa armrest, pondering: "Xu Fugui certainly praised his son as a flower… it seems his words are full of water."

Having weathered the world, he naturally wouldn't listen to only one side, but he must value his daughter's feelings. "What about work? He's a projectionist at the steel rolling mill, right? I heard he's a regular employee."

"Mm, that's what he said." Lou Xiaoe said listlessly, "All he talks about is how the leaders value him, how bright his future is—it sounds fake. Dad, Mom, I think this guy is no good, not steady, unreliable, not a suitable match!"

Lou's mother finally couldn't help but speak: "I think so too. Although our family… we can't just let anyone into the house. Xiaoe is still young, no rush, let's take a slower look." Her words were tactful, but her attitude was clear.

Lou Zhenhua nodded, saying nothing more. While he did value the possible "protective color" that Xu Damao's working-class identity might bring, he valued his daughter's future and happiness even more.

Xu Damao's first impression was so poor that, in his mind, this marriage prospect had already been marked with a big question mark. What he needed to consider was how to politely refuse Xu Fugui without offending this "former person" who might still be useful in some respects.

Meanwhile, in the public housing assigned to the Xu family's cinema, the atmosphere was quite different.

As soon as Xu Damao entered the door, Xu Fugui rushed to meet him, face full of anticipation: "How was it, Damao? Did you see the Lou family's daughter? What's your impression?"

Xu Damao's mother also came over, her eyes eager.

Xu Damao took off his coat, plopped onto the chair, first poured himself a cup of water and drank it, then wiped his mouth; his expression was complex—both displeased at not having secured the match right away and still harboring designs on the Lou family's wealth and status.

"I saw her, a lovely lady." He smacked his lips, "Her appearance… is passable, fair-skinned, like a cultured person. But…" He furrowed his brow, "She's a bit aloof, doesn't like to engage, answers one out of ten questions, putting on the airs of a young lady from a respectable family."

"That's how young ladies from respectable families are!" Xu Fugui immediately cut him off with a "you don't understand" expression, "That's cultivation! Poise! Do you expect me to act like those hysterical girls in the alley, laughing and joking with you? That would be losing face!"

"Exactly, exactly," Xu Damao's mother hurriedly chimed in, "What status does the Lou family have? A little temper from the daughter is normal. The key is their background—before liberation they were known as Lou Half City, could be said to have wealth rivaling a country; although most of it has been donated now, a skinny camel is still bigger than a horse. Damao, have you spoken to her? Do you feel she's interested in you?"

Xu Damao scratched his head somewhat irritably: "I said what I had to, I behaved properly as my father taught, praised what should be praised. But she… she had no reaction at all! I can't even figure out what she really means."

He lacked confidence, that feeling of not being in control made him very uncomfortable. Xu Damao considered himself suave and talented, never expecting to be looked down upon today; he felt resentful, still arrogant, yet the daughter of a capitalist is no longer in charge—now it's the workers who are masters.

"Not refusing outright is a good thing!" Xu Fugui said with an air of knowing, "I know Lou Zhenhua—he's the most cautious. Him letting his daughter come see you shows he's had second thoughts. This can't be rushed; we must take it slow. I'll go talk to him later to sound him out. And you, put some heart into it, find a chance to ask the young lady out again, go see a movie or something, to show your sincerity."

"Still ask her out?" Xu Damao hesitated, "I see her icy demeanor…"

"You don't know shit!" Xu Fugui snapped, "A chaste woman fears a persistent man! The more she puts on airs, the more you must approach! With enough effort, an iron pestle can be ground into a needle! Once the raw rice is cooked into cooked rice, the Lou family, so concerned with face, will still not refuse?" His words carried some streetwise rascality and calculation.

Xu Damao, spurred on by his father's words, felt his reluctance and greed rise again. Yes, the Lou family's estate, Lou Xiaoe's status that brings face when she goes out… it's worth him making another effort. As for Lou Xiaoe herself, she actually matters less now.

"Fine! I'll listen to my father!" Xu Damao gritted his teeth, his face again showing that mix of shrewdness and opportunism, "I'll think of a way."

Two doors, separating two worlds.

The Lou family's considerations carried the caution and resignation of a fallen aristocracy, while the Xu family's scheming was full of the hustle and greed of petty townsfolk.

This seemingly mismatched marriage, in the chill of early spring, quietly planted the seeds of endless future turmoil and entanglement.

And the two young people at the vortex's center—one naive and aloof, the other shrewd and utilitarian—seem to have their fate pushed by an unseen hand toward an unknown direction.