Eldest Senior Sister Became a Sensation After Being Blacklisted Online - Chapter 23

Shen Gu landed on his feet, calculated with his fingers, and shook his head. “The divination isn’t very clear, which means your problem isn’t too serious yet. Should we check again in a few days?”

 

Song Cheng sneered and raised her fist.

 

Shen Gu crouched lower, raising both hands. “I swear, I’m not lying to you.”

 

“You’d better not be. Otherwise, I’ll show you what real trouble looks like.” With that, Song Cheng returned to the living room, meeting Wu Guifang’s worried gaze. She shook her head slightly. “It’s nothing. I just needed to ask him something.”

 

Wu Guifang believed her, but Song Yu didn’t. She had been fine going upstairs, but after less than half an hour, she returned looking exhausted. Something was clearly wrong.

 

To resolve his doubts, he followed Song Cheng upstairs and mustered the courage to ask, “Did he drain your life force?”

 

Song Cheng rolled her eyes and continued walking to her room.

 

Song Yu caught up with her. “Then tell me, what exactly happened? And did you go upstairs to see Liu Zimang today?” A thought struck him, and his eyes widened. “You two…?” He scratched his head. “No, that’s not right. You came downstairs with an old man and a girl. Could it be that you were caught with Liu Zimang by her family?”

 

Song Cheng frowned slightly, turning to look at the gossip-hungry Song Yu. “With your imagination, why are you selling timber? You should be writing novels instead.”

 

“You think I don’t want to? If I went off to write novels, who would sell the timber? Mom and Dad are getting old. I have to shoulder the responsibility for the family,” Song Yu said with a sigh, adopting a martyr-like tone of “If I don’t go to hell, who will?”

 

Song Cheng shook her head speechlessly and continued walking forward. “If you have so much free time, you should focus on selling more timber. I’m fine.”

 

Hearing those last three words, Song Yu’s anxiety finally eased a little. He had been worried that Song Cheng might have suffered irreversible harm from helping his sister earlier.

 

The next day, as Song Cheng stepped outside, she immediately noticed unfamiliar faces in the vicinity. These people pretended to be busy with other tasks, but they were constantly glancing at her out of the corner of their eyes, though they made no other moves.

 

Realizing that Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang were ordinary people with no means of self-defense, she immediately retreated into the house and dragged Shen Gu, who was lounging on the sofa eating fruit, over to her. “If anything seems out of place, call me immediately,” she said, glancing out the window.

 

Hunted by the Chen Family of the Ancient Martial Arts World for over a year, Shen Gu lived in constant fear, hyper-sensitive to every rustle of leaves. At Song Cheng’s subtle glance, he immediately understood. He hastily shoved the remaining fruit into his mouth and swallowed before replying, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

 

Song Cheng wasn’t entirely reassured, but to avoid alarming Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang, she had no choice but to reluctantly trust Shen Gu this once. Before leaving, she shot him another warning look.

 

Leaving the house, she got into her car. As they passed the security gate, she ordered Wang Dong to stop. Leaning out the window, her expression stern, she demanded, “Were you dozing off? Letting so many strangers in? If anything goes missing from my house, will you compensate me?”

 

Sensing her anger, the guard apologized profusely. “I’ll contact security to handle this immediately.”

 

“Don’t even think about slacking off. If I find out you’ve let unauthorized people in again, I’ll file a formal complaint immediately.” With that, Song Cheng straightened up and instructed Wang Dong to continue driving.

 

She owed all this to Song Yu. Ever since he learned how she used the pinyin grid input method, he unilaterally assumed she didn’t know how to use a smartphone. Whenever he had free time, he would sit beside her and play videos—not tutorials on smartphone usage, but explanations of various apps and their functions.

 

Just as her patience was wearing thin, Song Yu’s video recommendations finally shifted to content on rational problem-solving, including the option of filing complaints.

 

Upon arriving at Phoenix Sky Entertainment, Zhu Ke hurried over. “Good morning, Sister Song! Teacher Yang Qiong just went upstairs. She said to come find her in the music room when you arrive.”

 

“Oh, right, the music room was set up temporarily yesterday. I’ll show you the way.” Zhu Ke gestured for her to follow and led her to the music room.

 

As expected of a hastily arranged space, the room contained only a couple of musical instruments and a few unfamiliar gadgets Song Cheng couldn’t identify. Otherwise, it was completely bare.

 

“Sister X said it’s a bit basic, but the soundproofing is decent. Sister Song can really let loose here,” Zhu Ke explained before retreating. Under the scrutiny of the others, she still felt a bit awkward, but remembering Sister X’s words about her every action reflecting on Sister Song’s image, she straightened her back and strode toward the office with feigned composure.

 

Song Cheng barely noticed Zhu Ke’s change. After surveying the nearly forty-square-meter room, she sauntered over to a chair and began to sit down.

 

She was only halfway seated when Yang Qiong’s voice rang out, exasperated: “Can’t you just change your lazy attitude? Why don’t you put some passion and seriousness into your music?”

 

Song Cheng didn’t stop lowering herself into the chair. Leaning back, she replied slowly, “Then you’re going to be disappointed. I have no passion for music. And where did you get the idea I’m not serious?”

 

Yang Qiong pointed at her eyes. “I can see it with both eyes.”

 

“Spare me the theatrics. Let’s get started so I can go home,” Song Cheng said impatiently.

 

Yang Qiong took several deep breaths to calm herself. She shouldn’t have believed Liu Zimang’s words—she’d actually thought Song Cheng might turn over a new leaf.

 

But if Song Cheng really did become serious, she’d lose some of her unique rebellious spirit and wildness.

 

“Knowing your foundation is weak, we’ll focus on the basics for the next few days. I’m not experienced in teaching fundamentals, so let’s stick to our usual method: you watch the videos first, and ask me about anything you don’t understand.” With that, Yang Qiong turned on the projector, found the prepared video, and started playing it.

 

Song Cheng remained lazily reclined in her chair, but her attention was fully focused on the video. Whenever she encountered something unclear, she asked Yang Qiong to replay it. This approach maximized her learning progress.

 

To assess her understanding, Yang Qiong asked several questions, which Song Cheng answered fluently.

 

After the Q&A, Song Cheng stood up and walked over to the electronic keyboard on the table. She lightly touched the keys, and notes instantly rang out.

 

This seems more fun than the flute, she thought, and began experimenting with the notes one by one.

 

Seeing her unusually focused, Yang Qiong quickly printed out a sheet of music. By the time she returned and opened the door, a pleasant melody was already drifting through the air.

 

Is she really just starting to play?

 

Dismissing the irrelevant thought, Yang Qiong listened intently to Song Cheng’s repeated adjustments to the melody. Her body, guided by muscle memory, reached for the chair, but she nearly missed it. Fortunately, her quick reflexes saved her from a fall.

 

In just half an hour, half a melody had been born. As expected, it carried Song Cheng’s signature unrestrained and wild spirit, yet upon closer listening, one could also discern a delicate nuance that subtly soothed the stirred emotions.

 

In that instant, the words “genius” flashed through her mind, and her gaze toward Song Cheng burned with renewed intensity.

 

To compose such a melody in just half an hour was simply unprecedented.

 

Outside, Liu Zimang approached the large window and leaned slightly forward to see Song Cheng walk over to the drum kit. She tapped the drumsticks against the drums, listened to the sound, shook her head, and tossed the sticks back into their original position.

 

As Song Cheng seemed about to leave, Yang Qiong immediately stood up, grabbed the sheet music, and approached her.

 

Song Cheng’s face was etched with resistance, clearly displeased with Yang Qiong’s arrangement. After some persuasion, she reluctantly walked over to the electronic keyboard and began to play.

 

Eager to hear the result, Liu Zimang immediately moved toward the door and quietly opened it.

 

Before she could even take a step inside, a familiar melody filled her ears. Though slightly rough around the edges, it still left her utterly stunned.

 

Yang Qiong had appeared beside her unnoticed, her gaze fixed on Song Cheng. “I told you before,” she said, “she was born for music.”

 

Liu Zimang was momentarily stunned. So it’s possible for someone to excel in so many things, to possess both martial arts and musical talent?

 

But why hadn’t Song Cheng shown this side of herself before? If she had, why would she have been ridiculed by the so-called aristocratic circles?

 

And could the Song Family, aside from their good fortune, truly have nurtured someone like Song Cheng?

 

To Liu Zimang, Song Cheng seemed like someone who shouldn’t be bound by the rules of this world, someone who belonged to a freer sky.

 

This sudden realization made her acutely aware of how little she truly knew about Song Cheng. Beyond knowing where she lived, her exceptional martial arts skills, and her extraordinary musical talent, she knew nothing else.

 

A sense of crisis washed over her. If Song Cheng were to leave one day, she wouldn’t even know where to look for her.

 

No, I must win Song Cheng’s heart.

 

Clenching her fist, Liu Zimang stepped toward Song Cheng as the final note faded, offering her the water bottle. “Do you have any plans after this?”

 

Song Cheng naturally accepted the water, took a sip, and then replied slowly, “Going home.” She tilted her head, looking at Liu Zimang. “Why? Do you have other plans?”

 

Liu Zimang nodded slightly. “I’m attending a banquet tonight and would like you to come with me.”

 

Song Cheng mentally sifted through her memories of the original owner’s impressions of banquets: nothing but mockery, empty flattery, and petty comparisons. She instinctively shook her head. “Sounds boring. I don’t want to go. But if you run into any trouble, just let me know. I’ll have your back.”

 

“Aren’t you worried I might be in danger?” Liu Zimang persisted.

 

Song Cheng frowned slightly, then said, “Send me the address. I’ll keep an eye on the time and head over.”

 

Liu Zimang smiled knowingly. She had initially wanted Song Cheng to get styled with her, but selfishly, she didn’t want others to notice Song Cheng, so she let her go.

 

Song Cheng had learned everything she needed to, and even exceeded expectations. Yang Qiong could find no further reason to keep her and could only watch helplessly as Song Cheng left.

 

Staring at her retreating figure, Yang Qiong shook her head. “What a waste. If she’d just been a bit more diligent, she could have been ready for a solo concert in less than six months.”

 

“Teacher Yang, you can’t rush things,” Liu Zimang said soothingly. “Besides, we have to leave some opportunities for the others too.”

 

Yang Qiong: “……”

 

They’re praising Song Cheng way too much.

 

It was true. If Song Cheng could achieve such results with such a casual approach, she would truly eclipse everyone else if she ever applied herself seriously.

 

Unaware of the high praise she had received, Song Cheng got out of the car and immediately surveyed the area around her house. Only after confirming that the people from earlier that morning were gone did she feel safe enough to enter.

 

As soon as she stepped over the threshold, she heard Wu Guifang and Song Tianfu arguing.

 

“Let whoever wants to go to that banquet go. I’m not going,” Song Tianfu said firmly, his hands in his pockets and his face turned away.

 

Wu Guifang gritted her teeth in frustration. “Do you think I want to go? Those people look down their noses at us. But what choice do we have? If we want to expand our timber business, we have to socialize with them.”

 

“Then why not send our son alone?” Song Tianfu’s tone softened slightly.

 

“Didn’t I tell you? Xiao Yu can’t get away from his work.”

 

“Then why don’t you go alone? I really can’t stand those gatherings.” With that, Song Tianfu got up, ready to slip away.

 

Wu Guifang quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “You’re coming with me.”

 

“Where’s the banquet being held?” Song Cheng asked.

 

Troublesome as it was, she had to go and reclaim her dignity.

 

“Hua Yue Hotel,” Wu Guifang replied mechanically. Regaining her composure, she immediately stepped forward. “You’re going too?”

 

Ding…

 

The notification sound prompted her to check her phone. After reading the address, she put it away and looked up. “Yes, I’ll go with you.”

 

Wu Guifang’s face lit up with delight. “Great! I’ll contact my stylist right away. We’ll dazzle those bitches!”

 

Song Tianfu hurried back, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t I come along too?”

 

With his daughter by his side, what was there to fear? He’d never seen her unleash her full power before—it was bound to be entertaining.

 

Wu Guifang initially refused with a look of disdain, but eventually relented under Song Tianfu’s persistent pleading.

 

The trio arrived at Hua Yue Hotel. Before they even entered the lobby, a cold, mocking voice rang out. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the country bumpkins.” The speaker sized them up and shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. No matter how flashy your clothes are, you can’t hide the poverty in your bones.” She waved her hand dismissively in front of her nose.

 

Song Cheng was about to retort when Liu Zimang’s icy voice cut through the air. “Madam Zhang, I’m surprised you have the energy to attend this banquet. I heard General Zhang is about to add another member to the Zhang Family!”

 

Madam Zhang’s face drained of color. She forced a smile and snapped, “What nonsense! That’s completely untrue.”

 

“If you think I’m lying, Madam Zhang, why don’t you investigate?” Liu Zimang said calmly, approaching Song Cheng with a faint smile. “Uncle, Auntie, good evening.”

 

“Now I understand—you’re protecting your little mistress!” Madam Zhang sneered, her face twisted with disdain. “Well, it’s no surprise. Your circle is notoriously corrupt. As long as there’s profit, you’ll take anyone, male or female.” Her gaze swept over Wu Guifang. “And you, you social butterfly, you’d only attract a country bumpkin like him.”

 

Liu Zimang tightened her grip on her purse, shocked by Madam Zhang’s vulgarity.

 

Song Cheng stepped forward, shielding Liu Zimang behind her. She glared coldly at Madam Zhang. “With such a foul mouth, were you raised on sewage?”

 

Her eyes swept dismissively over Madam Zhang. “Dressed so shabbily—are you here to beg? Wave goodbye to that idea. Your venomous tongue makes you unwelcome anywhere.”

 

“You—!” Madam Zhang trembled with rage, pointing a shaking finger at Song Cheng.

 

The cold glint in Song Cheng’s eyes intensified, a cruel smile curving her lips. “Ziman, check the price for severing a finger. I’ll buy one.”

 

Before the words had even finished leaving her mouth, Madam Zhang fled in terror, as if some vengeful spirit were chasing her.

 

Running too fast, she twisted her ankle and collapsed awkwardly to the ground, drawing the attention of passersby.

 

She slammed her fist against the ground in frustration, then dragged herself to her feet, her face drooping. She raised a trembling finger to point at Song Cheng, but the sheer force of Song Cheng’s presence made her shrink back. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered.

 

Song Cheng casually hummed in acknowledgment and took a few steps forward, then paused, realizing something was amiss. She turned back. “Mom, Dad, I forgot to introduce you. This is…”

 

Wu Guifang finally snapped out of her shock and eagerly finished Song Cheng’s sentence. “I know, she’s Liu Zimang!” She turned excitedly to Liu Zimang, extending her hand. “Hello, I’m Song Cheng’s mother. My surname is Wu.”

 

Reluctantly releasing Liu Zimang’s hand, she gestured to the equally thrilled Song Tianfu beside her. “This is my husband, Song Cheng’s father.”

 

Wu Guifang’s enthusiasm made Liu Zimang slightly flustered. She brushed a strand of hair aside and nodded politely. “Hello, Uncle and Auntie.”

 

“Alright, now that you’ve met, let’s go inside!” Song Cheng said, striding forward again.

 

Noticing Liu Zimang hadn’t followed, she deliberately paused to wait. Liu Zimang calmly walked to her side and naturally looped her arm through Song Cheng’s.

 

Behind them, Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang froze in place, their mouths slightly agape as they exchanged stunned glances. This… their bond is far too intimate, isn’t it?

 

The two women walking ahead remained oblivious to the thoughts of those behind them.

 

As they entered the grand hall, Song Cheng observed men and women in formal gowns and suits, wine glasses in hand, mingling among the crowd. Though smiles graced their faces, the warmth didn’t reach their eyes.

 

A sudden gasp drew everyone’s attention to Song Cheng and Liu Zimang. Some gazed in awe, while others burned with envy.

 

Liu Zimang wore a mermaid-style gown adorned with diamonds. The figure-hugging silhouette perfectly accentuated her exquisite figure, complementing her flawless features. She looked like a princess who had stepped straight out of a painting, leaving both men and women breathless.

 

Standing beside her, Song Cheng wore a traditional Chinese-style long dress paired with the latest sneakers. Her light makeup accentuated her clear, bright eyes, and her commanding presence ensured that even in silence, no one dared to ignore her.

 

Where there are people, there is gossip, especially when two figures steal everyone’s attention the moment they appear. Cold mockery and veiled insults were inevitable.

 

“Isn’t that the country bumpkin from the Song Family? How did she get involved with that vixen?”

 

“Your information is outdated. The Song Family isn’t what it used to be. They’ve bought their way to fame. As for how she hooked up with that vixen? The vixen probably thinks she can milk the Song Family for a fortune.”

 

“Tch, what’s the point of being famous? She’s still selling herself. It’s like she’s regressing with age.”

 

“What would a country bumpkin know about such things? Throw them a piece of glass, and they’d probably mistake it for a pearl!”

 

The remark was met with a burst of laughter, unaware that Song Cheng had overheard every word.

 

“So this is the caliber of people here? Just a bunch of long-tongued gossips?” Song Cheng’s voice was soft but carried clearly to every ear. Ignoring the ugly expressions on the faces of those who had been gossiping so gleefully, she continued, “Humans are truly a peculiar species. When someone’s poor, they’re called paupers. When they’re rich, their origins are scrutinized. Why don’t you trace your own family histories and see how your ancestors made their fortunes?”

 

She raised her hand. “And don’t tell me being born into wealth is some kind of achievement. It’s just cashing in on the good karma accumulated in a past life for a smooth ride in this one. But once that karma runs out,” she clasped her hands together, then abruptly opened them, “it’s all gone.”

 

Remembering something, she added, “Speaking kindly is also a form of good karma.”

 

By the end of her speech, the others’ faces had darkened to the color of a pot’s bottom. One of them raised his head and scoffed, “Look at you, spouting all this nonsense like you’ve actually studied it. What’s this about? Did you squander your family’s fortune and now you’re trying to make money through shady means? Is that why you’ve made such a fuss about bringing a charlatan home to worship?”

 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Song Cheng replied, “but even if my family’s money is gone, we still have two houses left. As for the charlatan, I did invite him. He told me the skies over S City are about to change.”

 

Before the man could retort, Zhang Qucheng, the host of the banquet, strode through the crowd with a hearty laugh, a wine glass in hand, and approached Song Cheng. “My apologies, Miss Song. It was my oversight to neglect you.”

 

Song Cheng frowned slightly, exchanged a puzzled glance with Wu Guifang, and shook her head, indicating she didn’t recognize the overly familiar man.

 

While Song Cheng didn’t know him, Liu Zimang did. She gave Zhang Qucheng a slight nod. “Uncle Zhang.”

 

“It’s been a few years, Ziman, and you’ve blossomed into a truly graceful young woman,” Zhang Qucheng remarked. Turning to stand beside Song Cheng, he announced in a booming voice, “Thank you all for honoring me with your presence today. Allow me to introduce Song Cheng, a distinguished guest of the Zhang Family. Any disrespect toward her is disrespect toward me.”

 

“Master Song is also a valued guest of the Xu Clan,” Xu Jinrong added.

 

Song Cheng turned slightly to see an elderly man and a young man approaching. The younger one was Xu We, but she didn’t recognize the old man beside him.

 

“That’s Xu We’s grandfather, Xu Jinrong. He’s quite skilled in martial arts,” Liu Zimang whispered. “But not as formidable as you.”

 

“I’m Xu Jinrong,” the old man introduced himself eagerly. “If you don’t mind, Master, you can call me by my name.”

 

The crowd was stunned. Had they mistaken her identity?

 

Wasn’t the Song Family just a nouveau riche family who had made their fortune through demolition compensation? How had they become associated with the three great aristocratic families of S City?

 

What they found most baffling was that Xu Jinrong, a man who had brought countless honors to the nation and now served as the president of the National Academy of Sinology, would lower himself to address Song Cheng as “Master.”

 

Zhang Qucheng was equally astonished. He had only learned about Song Cheng from his family elders moments ago, who had instructed him to treat her as an honored guest and warned him repeatedly never to antagonize her.

 

Initially, he felt indignant, thinking, “What could a mere junior possibly possess to warrant such caution?” But Xu Jinrong’s respectful demeanor toward Song Cheng made it clear that he couldn’t afford to underestimate her.

 

This realization brought a surge of relief. He was glad he had followed his elders’ instructions; otherwise, the situation might have spiraled out of control.

 

Song Cheng awkwardly extended her hand to Xu Jinrong, touching his briefly before quickly withdrawing it.

 

Xu Jinrong didn’t mind the brief contact. His enthusiasm remained undiminished as he gestured invitingly. “Master Song, if you don’t mind, let’s talk over there. It’s quieter.”

 

One doesn’t strike a smiling face, especially when the person has been consistently polite. Song Cheng couldn’t refuse. She turned to look at Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang, who were still standing frozen in place. Before she could speak, Zhang Qucheng’s voice rang out: “Master Song, rest assured. I’ll take good care of Mr. and Madam Song. I won’t let any ignorant fools make them uncomfortable.”

 

Unfamiliar with Zhang Qucheng’s status and unsure of his reliability, Song Cheng glanced sideways at Liu Zimang, silently seeking her opinion.

 

When Liu Zimang gave a slight nod, Song Cheng turned back and followed Xu Jinrong into the garden.

 

As soon as they left, Zhang Qucheng warmly ushered Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang to the center of the banquet hall, personally serving them wine. To ensure no further trouble, he instructed the staff to escort out the three individuals who had mocked Song Cheng earlier.

 

Most of the guests at the banquet were prominent figures, but their status paled in comparison to that of the Zhang Family, one of the aristocratic families. This included the three men being expelled.

 

Their faces darkened at the news of their expulsion, but they dared not protest, swallowing their anger and slinking away in shame, cowed by the Zhang Family’s influence.

 

Witnessing this, no one dared underestimate Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang again.

 

Zhang Qucheng had his own motives for hosting the banquet and couldn’t let Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang’s presence derail his plans. After ensuring everything was in order, he said with a hint of apology, “I have some matters to attend to. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me over there.” He gestured to the far left corner, where three distinguished-looking men stood, their bearing suggesting high status.

 

Wu Guifang, snapping out of her daze, immediately tugged at Song Tianfu’s sleeve and interjected before he could speak, “No need to worry. You go ahead and take care of your business. We wouldn’t want to waste your valuable time. We’re truly sorry for the inconvenience.”

 

“Of course, of course,” Zhang Qucheng said, turning to walk toward the three men.

 

As soon as he left, those who had resolved to curry favor with the Song Family swarmed forward, eagerly striking up conversations with Song Tianfu and Wu Guifang.

 

The couple had been navigating this social circle for several years, their journey marked by initial excitement that gradually soured into resentment. Only they knew the full extent of the mockery and scorn they had endured during that time.

 

Now, with those piercing taunts and disdainful glances gone, they were met with a barrage of flattery and praise.

 

Wu Guifang and Song Tianfu understood perfectly that this sudden shift was entirely due to Song Cheng’s rising prominence. They knew that most of the flattering words and compliments were insincere.

 

Yet, even so, Wu Guifang couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumphant satisfaction. She tugged Song Tianfu closer, lowering her voice to whisper, “Chest up, head high. We can’t let our daughter lose face.”

 

Song Tianfu’s inner elation matched hers. If the occasion were more appropriate, he would have shed his uncomfortable suit and belted out three celebratory songs to commemorate this exhilarating day.

 

In the garden outside, Song Cheng was deep in conversation with Xu Jinrong, with Xu We and Liu Zimang seated on either side of them.

 

The discussion centered on martial arts, leaving Xu We and Liu Zimang unable to contribute. Yet they listened with rapt attention, thoroughly engrossed in the exchange.

 

Song Cheng remembered her Master’s teachings: true knowledge fears no exchange. In fact, to truly master something, one must actively share insights. Each person interprets the same martial arts technique differently, and combining these perspectives could lead to unexpected breakthroughs.

 

Initially, she hadn’t taken these words to heart. But after a particularly fruitful exchange, she etched them firmly in her mind.

 

Moreover, Xu Jinrong’s personality resonated with her. She didn’t mind discussing martial arts techniques with him, and when the conversation grew lively, she would even demonstrate a few moves.

 

Watching this, Zhang Qucheng’s heart itched with longing. He desperately wanted to join them, but he was stuck entertaining three distinguished guests. These guests hailed from neighboring F City, and their families controlled vast business empires. Securing their patronage would elevate the Zhang Family’s status in the business world to new heights.

 

Suddenly, Huang Sheng, the man in the white suit, spoke up, “General Zhang, are you acquainted with that stunning beauty outside?”

 

Hearing this, Zhang Qucheng’s alarm bells rang. He forced a strained smile and replied, “She’s Old Liu’s granddaughter.” He hoped this revelation would deter Huang Sheng’s interest.

 

Instead, Huang Sheng’s interest only intensified. Stroking his chin, he unconsciously revealed a predatory glint in his eyes. He raised his hand to his chin, his gaze fixed on Liu Zimang, who sat with her back to him. “I’ve long heard that your Ancient Martial Arts Families dominate S City. While the Liu Family may not rival the Zhang and Xu Families in power, their family rules are the strictest,” he mused, rubbing his hands together. “I can hardly wait!”