We Weren’t Fated, I Just Played My Cards Right - Chapter 9

Jenny had probably been holding this in for a long time. Finally finding someone to confide in, she didn’t hesitate to tell Liu Mumu everything.

“A year ago, my mom developed a strange skin condition—red marks appeared all over her body. They didn’t hurt or itch, so she didn’t pay much attention to them.

But later, large patches of subcutaneous bleeding appeared. We were terrified it might be leukemia and went to the hospital for tests, but the results came back completely normal.”

Recalling her mother’s illness, Jenny couldn’t help but shudder.

She continued, “The doctor prescribed some medicine and sent us home, but soon after, she started bleeding. The reddened areas on her skin became very thin, sometimes breaking at the slightest touch, and the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

I called my dad over, and he took my mom to the hospital for a full check-up, but they still found nothing. Actually, I wanted to consult your grandfather back then, but my dad didn’t believe in that kind of thing and refused. Not long after, my mom passed away.”

“Did they ever figure out the cause in the end?” Liu Mumu asked.

Jenny shook her head. “No. The experts my dad consulted said it might be some previously unknown disease, but they’d never seen a case like it before.”

Liu Mumu thought for a moment before saying to Jenny, “My grandfather never mentioned anything like Aunt Zhang’s condition to me. Tell you what, I’ll go back and check his journals. Maybe I can find something, and I’ll let you know if I do.”

Jenny looked disappointed but nodded in agreement.

After exchanging new contact details, Jenny’s brother came out looking for her, and Liu Mumu took her leave.

Zhan Huitian had always been indifferent toward Jenny. The siblings had been separated for many years and rarely spoke. Seeing her talking to Liu Mumu today, he curiously asked, “You know her?”

“She was my high school classmate.”

“What a coincidence.” Zhan Huitian was slightly surprised. Aside from Jenny, the rest of the Zhan family knew about Liu Mumu’s background—after all, they were technically relatives.

“What were you two talking about just now?”

“Nothing much.” Jenny lowered her head. “She asked me what happened to my mom after I came to Qingcheng, and I told her she passed away.”

At the mention of her birth mother, Zhan Huitian frowned. He stopped walking and warned her in a stern tone, “Don’t bring this up with others in the future.”

“Why not?” Jenny was puzzled.

“It’s a private family matter. Talking about it will only give people gossip fodder.” He glanced at her. “Your status is different now. Be mindful of your words and don’t embarrass the family.”

Though Jenny didn’t understand how simply mentioning it to someone she knew could be embarrassing, she obediently nodded in agreement.

As the birthday banquet neared its end, an unexpected guest arrived, and Zhan Hongye and his wife personally went out to greet them.

Dong Zhenghao’s expression darkened instantly upon seeing the newcomer. Liu Mumu took a good look at the guest’s face and inwardly gasped.

This man had the quintessential look of wealth—more textbook-perfect than any of the wealthy faces her grandfather had used for teaching. Someone like her father, with his rough features, couldn’t even compare.

If the man hadn’t had plastic surgery, he must be incredibly, incredibly rich.

And indeed, the guest was extremely wealthy—someone both Qin Kai and Dong Zhenghao had once desperately tried to court as an investor.

Yet here he was at Zhan Hongye’s birthday banquet, his intentions obvious.

Dong Zhenghao stepped forward to greet him, but the man responded coldly, engaging only with the host of the evening.

Undeterred by the failed attempt, Dong Zhenghao refused to give up. But as the banquet drew to a close, he found no further opportunity and eventually left, frustrated and unwilling.

After getting into the car, the atmosphere inside grew increasingly tense. Even Jiang Li didn’t dare to speak casually.

Liu Mumu seemed unaffected by the oppressive mood. She took out her phone, opened a puzzle game, and started tapping away to eliminate blocks.

The quirky sound effects of the game occasionally echoed in the confined space, irritating Dong Zhenghao, who snapped, “Turn that off.”

Without even looking up, Liu Mumu replied leisurely, “Only failed men take out their frustrations on their families.”

Dong Zhenghao looked like he was about to explode with anger.

Jiang Li quickly scolded, “Enough, don’t provoke your father.”

“Auntie Jiang, why don’t you tell Dad not to take it seriously since I’m still young?”

Jiang Li was left speechless.

Liu Mumu continued playing her game while casually remarking to Dong Zhenghao in the front seat, “Dad, your financial luck has been low lately. It’s better to accept reality and stop dreaming the impossible—professional advice.”

A vein throbbed at Dong Zhenghao’s temple. “Shut up,” he growled.

When they arrived at the Dong family villa, Liu Mumu ignored Dong Qi, who had been waiting for them in the living room for over two hours and was now throwing a tantrum. She grabbed an apple from the coffee table and dashed back to her room.

Once inside, she opened her damaged suitcase and pulled out a thread-bound notebook.

What she had told Jenny earlier wasn’t entirely a lie—though Liu Mumu didn’t actually have a so-called “grandfather’s diary.” The old man had never kept one, claiming, “My past is too legendary to be confined to words.”

A man with an inflated ego and a terminal case of chuunibyou.

However, her grandfather had left her a notebook dedicated to recording strange and supernatural phenomena—things he had witnessed or heard about over the years.

Of course, it wasn’t meant for her to solve any problems. It was purely so she could recognize danger and run away instead of foolishly charging in. In his eyes, his granddaughter was utterly defenseless.

Liu Mumu skimmed through the notebook but found no similar cases for now.

She rolled around on the bed with the book in hand. Why had her grandfather given her a notebook instead of a search engine? It was always a tedious hunt, and she never found what she needed.

Lying on her stomach, she flipped a few more pages and suddenly came across an entry:

Seventy years ago, in the Shaanchuan region, two villages were in conflict. A sorcerer cursed people from the opposing village, causing the victims’ bodies to split inexplicably and bleed uncontrollably.

Later, the sorcerer was beaten to death with clubs by the neighboring village’s leader and his men.

There was also a note she had scribbled in middle school—her handwriting still embarrassingly messy. Back then, she was obsessed with online games, so her comment read: Physical attacks will always be the fastest and most effective solution!

At the time, she had been hopelessly addicted to warrior classes and even challenged a classmate who played mages to a real-life duel to prove warriors were superior.

Then she got beaten until she cried.

Ahem, that’s not important.

She quickly sat up—why did this symptom seem so familiar?

……

After seeing off the last distinguished guest, Zhan Hongye turned to look at his daughter standing beside him. It was quite late now; the banquet had lasted several hours, and Jenny was already struggling to keep her eyes open.

The air outside was still stiflingly hot despite the lack of air conditioning. The occasional breeze did nothing to bring any relief.

Only the chirping of insects and birds gave Jenny a familiar sense of home, though sadly, her mother was no longer by her side.

Just as she was about to head back inside, her peripheral vision caught sight of a figure standing under a streetlamp not far away. To be precise, it didn’t look like a person—more like a shadow standing upright. Startled, she stumbled, but Zhan Hongye quickly steadied her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There’s someone over there.” Jenny pointed toward the streetlamp.

Frowning, Zhan Hongye stared for a moment before walking toward it.

Only upon getting closer did he realize the figure was simply dressed in black, making them appear eerie in the dark.

Moving even nearer, Zhan Hongye recognized the person and asked in confusion, “Mrs. Qin, why are you out here alone?”

The Qin family’s villa was in the same neighborhood as theirs, though located at opposite ends. Unless someone deliberately went out of their way, the two families rarely crossed paths.

“You’re the one who killed my husband, aren’t you?” Mrs. Qin’s voice was unnaturally hoarse.

Zhan Hongye frowned, displeased. “I understand you’re grieving after Mr. Qin’s passing, but this matter has nothing to do with me. Please don’t make baseless accusations.”

“If it wasn’t you, how did you manage to poach all those people so quickly? They’d rather break their contracts than continue working for us. And Mr. Zhuo—he had already promised my husband an investment, yet now he’s here in your home.” Mrs. Qin’s bloodshot eyes bore into Zhan Hongye.

With a sigh, Zhan Hongye replied, “These are just common tactics in business. Everyone plays to their strengths—I’ve broken no laws. On the other hand, Mrs. Qin, I won’t tolerate any further slander from you. Otherwise, don’t blame me for disregarding my past friendship with Mr. Qin.”

Having said that, he turned away, unwilling to engage further.

Behind him, Mrs. Qin glared at his retreating figure. “Zhan Hongye, you’ll pay for this!”

Without so much as a pause in his step, Zhan Hongye shook his head.

Soon, the gate closed, shutting out Mrs. Qin’s venomous gaze.

With all the guests gone, only the mess of the banquet remained.

A cleaning crew would take care of it in the morning. Seeing her husband return with his daughter, Jiang Jia went back to her room to take a bath.

Just as Jenny was about to leave, Zhan Hongye called her into his study.

An avid collector of antiques, Zhan Hongye had a massive display shelf covering an entire wall, filled with porcelain pieces from various dynasties.

This was Jenny’s first time entering the room, and she was instantly awestruck.

“These are all my collections. See anything you like?” Zhan Hongye asked with a smile, noticing her fascination.

Jenny quickly shook her head. “I don’t know much about these, but they’re really beautiful.”

Zhan Hongye patted her head, then turned to rummage through his desk. He pulled out a bank card and a business card, handing both to Jenny.

Jenny took them curiously and glanced down. The business card belonged to the deputy director of a private hospital in Qingcheng, with a phone number printed below.

“Take the bank card for your expenses. Withdraw money whenever you’re short—it’s your allowance from me,” Zhan Hongye said. “Also, call this number in a few days to schedule a health checkup. You know your mother’s illness still hasn’t been diagnosed. I’m worried it might be hereditary, so it’s better to get checked just in case.”

“Understood, Dad.” Jenny’s eyes grew slightly moist. No matter how her stepmother treated her, her father had always been kind to her.