We Weren’t Fated, I Just Played My Cards Right - Chapter 20

Liu Mumu was still napping in her room when she faintly heard someone crying and shouting outside, making it impossible to sleep peacefully.

Irritated, she climbed out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she opened the door.

From the second-floor hallway, she could see Jiang Li comforting the wailing Jiang Jia in the living room below.

Jiang Jia looked completely different from her usual polished and beautiful self—her makeup was smeared from crying, eyes red and swollen, hair disheveled.

Between sobs, she was cursing wildly. Liu Mumu listened carefully—she was railing against Zhan Hongye for being heartless and cutting off his descendants, calling Zhan Huitian an ungrateful wretch, and denouncing Jenny as a jinx.

Jiang Li seemed quite sympathetic, patting her back while murmuring about suing them and similar threats.

Quite the lively scene. Liu Mumu watched the spectacle from upstairs for a while.

Jiang Li was the first to notice Liu Mumu. She straightened up and looked over warily.

Jiang Jia, slower on the uptake, turned her head. Seeing Liu Mumu, all the anger she’d bottled up at the Zhan family seemed to find an outlet.

Clutching Jiang Li with one hand and pointing at Liu Mumu with the other, she cried, “Sister, believe me, that one of yours is just like Jenny—nothing but bad news. The moment they enter a household, disaster follows. Isn’t that how our old Zhan was killed? Those two little beasts teamed up to throw me out. Don’t be fooled by her act now—the moment something happens to your husband, she’ll be the first to turn on you.”

Jiang Li shot a wary glance at Liu Mumu and hissed, “Shut up, don’t talk nonsense.”

She wasn’t like Jiang Jia. While Jiang Jia appeared prosperous, all the money had actually been in Zhan Hongye’s hands.

When she married Dong Zhenghao, there’d been no prenuptial agreement. Even if Old Dong had his own schemes, for the sake of the son she’d borne him, he couldn’t treat her badly.

The only thing that displeased her was Liu Mumu’s presence—she would inevitably take a share of what rightfully belonged to her son.

Originally, Jiang Li had been confident that a few tricks would be enough to handle such a naive girl. But after witnessing Liu Mumu’s capabilities, she’d abandoned such underhanded plans.

After all, no matter what, Old Dong valued his son most. Even if some money was divided, the lion’s share would still be theirs.

Consider it money spent for peace of mind.

Jiang Jia couldn’t grasp her sister’s calculations. Seeing Liu Mumu completely ignore her and casually walk past them toward the kitchen, she grew frantic, hopping about in agitation.

“Listen to me, sis… mmmph…”

Jiang Li had no intention of listening. She immediately clamped a hand over Jiang Jia’s mouth.

Seeing Liu Mumu suddenly stop and turn to look at them, Jiang Li forced a stiff smile and awkwardly explained, “She’s just upset and talking nonsense. Don’t take it seriously.”

Liu Mumu didn’t take it seriously—but she held grudges.

“If I were you…” She smiled at Jiang Li. “I’d stay far away from her.”

Jiang Li’s smile froze, her heart skipping a beat.

Liu Mumu continued leisurely, “Your little sister is cursed with terrible luck. Spend too much time around her, and it’ll rub off on you.”

Since these sisters loved playing fortune-tellers so much, she couldn’t disappoint them.

Not that she was lying. She had read Jiang Jia’s face the first time they met—now, she was just seeing her initial judgment confirmed.

Jiang Li quickly withdrew her hand, shoving Jiang Jia away as she stood up. “Alright, I have things to do. You should head back. We’ll talk later.”

That “talk later” from Jiang Li probably meant “never talk again.”

Jiang Jia wasn’t stupid. She nearly exploded, her expression twisting as she shot to her feet and confronted her sister. “Jiang Li, what the hell is this? You’d believe some little b1tch over your own sister?”

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Jiang Li’s face, but self-preservation won out. “That’s not what I meant. I really am busy. Just go home. Didn’t Old Zhan transfer a few properties to you? It’s not like he left you with nothing.”

Jiang Jia nearly cursed out loud. Was this for real? Her own sister was saying this to her?

Back when Jiang Jia had mocked her for having less status than a maid in the Dong household, Jiang Li had seethed with resentment. Now, the tables had turned. Watching Jiang Jia’s disbelief, Jiang Li secretly reveled in it.

Jiang Jia was panting with rage. She glared venomously at her sister and then at Liu Mumu, who was watching the drama unfold. Pointing at them, she spat, “You’ll regret this. Bunch of snobbish trash!”

Then she snatched up her bag, stormed out, and slammed the door hard behind her.

Liu Mumu didn’t even spare her a glance, treating the whole thing like a free soap opera. She poured herself a glass of water and headed upstairs.

Less than ten minutes later, the front door suddenly swung open again.

Jiang Li assumed Jiang Jia had returned and turned with irritation—only to see a disheveled Dong Zhenghao walk in.

With Zhan Hongye’s sudden death, everyone had been too shocked to remember that Dong Zhenghao was still out there, drifting around.

“H-honey, you’re back?”

Dong Zhenghao had just been released after a full day of police questioning. He didn’t feel like talking—not even the news of Zhan Hongye’s death could lift his spirits now.

He slumped onto the couch, the stench of sweat hitting Jiang Li, who scooted back. “Have you eaten?”

“Just grab me something quick. Where’s Mumu?”

“Upstairs. I’ll call her.” Jiang Li rummaged in the kitchen for a couple of bread rolls to tide him over, then went upstairs to fetch Liu Mumu.

Liu Mumu was surprised to hear Dong Zhenghao was home. As soon as she came downstairs, he said, “Zhan Hongye’s dead. The cops think I did it—they brought me in the night before last.”

“Oh.” Liu Mumu responded calmly, thinking to herself, what a coincidence—they suspect not just you, but me too.

Is this what they call “keeping the family together in perfect harmony”?

“Do you know what’s actually going on?” Dong Zhenghao probed cautiously.

“Why are you so curious? The police are already investigating. As long as you didn’t do anything, it has nothing to do with us.” Even if she knew the details, Liu Mumu wouldn’t tell him.

Dong Zhenghao, who had indeed done something questionable, replied awkwardly, “I’m just worried about complications.”

Liu Mumu sighed. “Your business rival is gone, and all you can think about is how he died? Isn’t making money more important?”

Dong Zhenghao’s eyes lit up—those words struck a chord. Who cared about Zhan Hongye when there was money to be made!

Jiang Li felt that, in Liu Mumu’s eyes, her father was probably nothing more than an emotionless money-making machine.

But well done!

The Dong household remained as “harmonious” as ever, while the Zhan family villa, now devoid of its mistress and left with only the siblings, felt eerily quiet.

Zhan Huitian had to handle inheritance procedures and other formalities, leaving Jenny alone at home.

She managed lunch and dinner by herself. At ten in the evening, Zhan Huitian finally returned, carrying something heavy in his hand.

He glanced at Jenny, still sitting in the living room, and was about to head upstairs when she spoke up. “Brother, you’re back. Have you eaten? I kept some food warm for you in the kitchen.”

He paused. “Not yet.”

“Wait in the dining room. I’ll bring it out for you.”

After a brief hesitation, he nodded and turned toward the dining area. As he passed the living room, he casually placed the bag on the sofa.

Jenny brought out the food but found the dining room empty. She checked the living room—no sign of him.

Then she heard running water from the first-floor bathroom and assumed he was washing up.

As she turned, her gaze fell on the bag on the sofa.

Curious, she approached and peeked inside. The contents seemed to be long, cylindrical objects wrapped in newspaper. One corner wasn’t fully covered, revealing a glimpse of a familiar gray material.

…It looked exactly like their father’s vase. Why did her brother have it?

Before she could process the thought, the bathroom faucet stopped. Zhan Huitian stepped out and, spotting her by the sofa, suddenly asked, “What are you looking at?”

Jenny nearly jumped in fright. Forcing a calm expression, she replied as lightly as possible, “Just wondering what you brought back. What is it?”

Zhan Huitian glanced at her face and casually responded with an “Oh,” his tone indifferent: “Someone gave me this vase. Be careful with it—don’t break it.”

His attitude made it hard for Jenny to tell whether he actually knew the vase’s purpose.

After her father disappeared, the police had searched their home with a warrant but apparently found nothing. Once they left, she had secretly checked the study but couldn’t locate the vase.

She had thought the matter ended with her father’s death—until today, when her eldest brother brought the vase home.

After finishing his meal, Zhan Huitian carried the bag containing the gray vase back to his room. Jenny hesitated in the kitchen but eventually decided to contact Liu Mumu.

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she didn’t mention that the vase was now in her brother’s possession.

Jenny: Mumu, are you there? With everything that happened to Dad, I haven’t had the chance to reach out. You’re not upset with me, are you?

Liu Mumu was surprised to receive Jenny’s message.

She knew Jenny fairly well—she was academically strong but didn’t get along well with classmates. To put it simply, she was proud and quick to take offense. An offhand remark from someone could easily be misconstrued as a personal attack, which eventually led to others keeping their distance.

Given how bluntly Liu Mumu had rejected her last time, she wouldn’t have expected Jenny to reach out again.

But perhaps, with both parents now gone, she was just seeking comfort.

Liu Mumu didn’t dwell on it and replied with a single line.

Liu Mumu: I heard about your father’s passing. My condolences.

She didn’t blame Jenny, but their personalities were too different—they probably weren’t suited to be friends.

Jenny: Thank you. There’s one more thing I wanted to ask. The vase my father had is missing. Do you think whoever took it might come after me?

Liu Mumu frowned. The vase was gone?

Liu Mumu: As long as you don’t give anyone a chance to take your bl00d, you’ll be fine.

Jenny: But didn’t you say birth details could also be used to harm someone?

Liu Mumu: Yes, but they’d need the exact time of birth. Unless you tell someone, it’s hard for outsiders to know. Don’t worry too much.

Far from reassuring Jenny, this answer only made her more anxious.

An outsider wouldn’t know—but her family did.

Her mother used to recount the exact times she and her brother were born during their birthdays, along with how difficult the deliveries had been.

So, she knew her brother’s birth details, and he knew hers.

Her fingers clenched around the phone, turning pale from the pressure.

Two days later, Zhan Huitian received a notice from the city bureau—the autopsy was complete, and they could now claim the body.

This time, he only brought Jenny along, leaving Jiang Jia out of the loop.

Yet when they arrived at the station, Jiang Jia was already there.

Zhan Huitian shot her a dark look.

Jenny, however, politely greeted her: “Aunt Jiang.”

Jiang Jia didn’t even glance her way.

Fang Chuan, observing the family’s strange dynamics, stepped forward. “Shall we proceed with the paperwork first?”

“Thank you for your trouble,” Zhan Huitian said politely.

Jiang Jia snorted lightly, swaying her hips in high heels as she followed.

With Fang Chuan leading the way, the formalities were quickly completed. Next, a family member needed to confirm the identity of the deceased.

Fang Chuan took them to view the body. Zhan Hongye’s remains were well-preserved, looking much the same as when they had last seen him.

For victims of special cases, autopsies weren’t the priority. The body was kept mainly to cleanse any lingering malevolent residues and prevent contamination.

After processing, Zhan Hongye’s corpse had been restored to a normal state, stitched up so neatly it appeared even more intact than before.

Zhan Huitian signed the paperwork and arranged for hired hands to transport the body away.

Fang Chuan escorted them to the police station entrance. Just before leaving, Zhan Huitian finally deigned to speak to Jiang Jia: “Father’s funeral will proceed as scheduled in two days. As his wife, I expect you not to be late.”

Without another glance, he got into the car.

Jiang Jia clenched her fists, her long nails digging into her palms, yet her anger remained unquenched.

Turning back, she noticed Fang Chuan was still there. Her eyes flickered as she inquired, “Officer, could you share any updates on my husband’s case? Are there any suspects?”

Fang Chuan replied, “I’m sorry, but specific details can’t be disclosed at this stage. The investigation is ongoing.”

Jiang Jia hadn’t truly expected an answer. She smiled understandingly. “I know you have your difficulties, but…”

She drew out her words, leaning closer with an air of secrecy. “I suggest you look into Zhan Huitian. He and his father had long-standing conflicts. Outwardly respectful, who knows what grudges he harbored inside.”

“Does Ms. Jiang have any concrete leads to provide?”

“Right after we married, Old Zhan was extremely harsh disciplining the boy. Huitian wasn’t exactly ambitious—he got beaten often. He even threatened once, saying he’d kill his father sooner or later.”

“Mr. Zhan Jr. seems quite mature now?” Fang Chuan responded appropriately.

“All for the money. Old Zhan was furious once and threatened to disinherit him if he didn’t obey, sending him back to his mother without a cent. That scared him straight—he’s been obedient ever since.”

Fang Chuan nodded slightly. “So, Mr. Zhan’s estate was entirely left to his son?”

At this, Jiang Jia’s face darkened with resentment. “Exactly. Not even his own daughter got a share—he took it all.”

“Thank you for the information, Ms. Jiang. We’ll verify it carefully.”

Jiang Jia had been waiting for this very statement. Even if Zhan Huitian was truly innocent, she couldn’t let him walk away with all the money without paying any price.

Satisfied, she nodded and left with her bag.

“What do you think?” Fang Chuan turned to Yan Xiu, who had somehow appeared behind him without notice.

Yan Xiu’s deep, inscrutable gaze lingered in the direction Jiang Jia had gone, lost in thought. He asked, “Have we verified Zhan Huitian’s whereabouts on the night of the banquet?”

“Between ten and midnight, he claimed to have gone to a friend’s bar. We only have surveillance footage of him entering and exiting, but interestingly, that bar has a back door.”

“Any witnesses?”

“The only person who could clearly confirm the time saw him after eleven. During the period when Zhan Hongye was attacked, we can’t confirm Zhan Huitian wasn’t at the scene.”

Yan Xiu nodded and turned to walk back.

Fang Chuan followed, listening as he said, “A cursed artifact can’t be separated from its owner for long. Originally, I assumed it would still be in the Zhan residence, but clearly, that’s not the case.”

“Our team searched his study and confirmed something was missing from a spot on the antique shelf. I suspect that was the artifact. Could he have taken it with him that night?” Fang Chuan speculated.

“Assuming he did, after the attack, someone else must have arrived at the scene—perhaps tampered with him—then took both the artifact and his phone. Presumably, there was sensitive information on that phone.”

While reviewing the surveillance footage from Binjiang Tower, they had noticed something odd. Zhan Hongye had four broken ribs, likely from being beaten that night. Yet when he entered Binjiang Tower, he showed no signs of pain and walked normally—behavior that defied logic.

Fang Chuan summarized, “That night, Zhan Hongye left home with the artifact, possibly to meet someone. Given how much he trusted this person, I suspect it might have been the one who gave him the artifact. But he was ambushed along the way, and afterward, someone took the artifact and manipulated him into returning to Binjiang Tower to die. If that’s the case, it doesn’t seem to involve Zhan Huitian?”

Yan Xiu paused and glanced at Fang Chuan. “What has Zhan Hongye been using the artifact for all these years?”

“Eliminating rivals? I narrowed it down to the last five years. Among the deaths vaguely connected to him, five cases resemble Qin Kai’s—all victims were once his business competitors.”

“To put it simply, he killed for money.”

Fang Chuan agreed.

“Then, what was the motive of the person who gave him the artifact?”

Fang Chuan blinked. “Could it also be… for money?”

“Five years ago, Zhan Hongye’s company received overseas investment. Since then, over half of its annual profits have been funneled into offshore accounts—roughly estimated at hundreds of millions.” Yan Xiu’s lips curled slightly.

His words sent a chill down Fang Chuan’s spine. “The way you put it makes it sound like a long con. Zhan Hongye got the artifact five years ago and started killing, and his company took foreign investment around the same time. This runs deep… So as the heir who inherited his company and shares, could Zhan Huitian really know nothing?”

Yan Xiu neither confirmed nor denied his speculation. His job was only to provide necessary leads—solving the case wasn’t his concern.

The police’s suspicions about Zhan Huitian remained completely unknown to him.

After retrieving his father’s body, Zhan Huitian began making funeral arrangements.

Fortunately, as long as you paid, the funeral home had a well-established process, sparing the bereaved family too much trouble.

That same day, Dong Zhenghao’s family was also invited to attend the memorial service. Originally, only he and his wife needed to go, but after some hesitation, he decided to bring Liu Mumu along as well.

This was his third funeral this month, and Old Dong wasn’t the least bit sad. In fact, he hummed a cheerful tune the entire drive to the funeral home.

Zhan Hongye, that bastard, had tried to harm others only to end up dead himself—just thinking about it filled him with joy.

That brat Zhan Huitian even wanted him to deliver a eulogy? Not a chance. Not only did he refuse, but he also felt like singing a celebratory song instead.

However, for the sake of appearances, he calmly declined the request.

Many people came to pay their respects. Most of those present had heard about the inheritance dispute within the Zhan family, as well as the rumors surrounding Zhan Hongye’s cause of death.

Yet, at the scene, everyone wore solemn expressions.

Even Jiang Jia played the part of Zhan Hongye’s grieving widow perfectly.

Standing beside Dong Zhenghao, Liu Mumu went largely unnoticed, allowing her to freely observe the attendees.

For instance, Jiang Jia, who kept dabbing at her eyes but shed few actual tears. Or Jenny, who continuously bowed to mourners, appearing deeply sorrowful.

Liu Mumu didn’t quite understand—what exactly was she so sad about?

Then she spotted the fortune-teller she had met once before—Mr. Ning.

Zhan Huitian personally received Mr. Ning, treating him with great respect. After offering incense, Mr. Ning left shortly after.

The ceremony concluded after about two hours, and then the group proceeded to the cemetery.

It was then that Jenny finally noticed Liu Mumu in the crowd. Their eyes met, and she walked over.

Dong Zhenghao didn’t stop her. He led Jiang Li aside, leaving the two girls to talk.

Though he loathed Zhan Hongye with a burning hatred, he had no intention of taking it out on his children. As for his sister-in-law being driven out by the Zhan family’s kids—that had nothing to do with him.

She was Jiang Li’s sister, not his. If Jiang Li didn’t care, why should he?

Liu Mumu stayed by Jenny’s side until the funeral was over.

As the crowd gradually dispersed, the two of them walked slowly behind.

Ahead of them, two tall men chatted as they made their way out of the cemetery, unaware that others were still nearby.

Their conversation easily reached the girls’ ears.

One of them asked curiously, “Did the Zhan family’s inheritance really go entirely to the eldest son?”

The other sighed. “Over a month ago, Mr. Zhan consulted me about revising his will—after all, he still had a daughter. But unfortunately, he never got the chance.”

Liu Mumu felt Jenny suddenly tighten her grip on her arm. Frowning, she shook her off.