When I got closer, I realized it was an incredibly luxurious villa, with two massive iron gates tightly shut—each as large as the two gates of a meat processing plant, adorned with ancient and imposing patterns. From there, I could see a large building in the style of medieval Europe, resembling a villa to a castle. In the flowerbed in front of the building, an old woman wearing a straw hat was watering the plants; she appeared to be the gardener hired by the owner.
I stopped the car and had just stepped out when suddenly two Tibetan mastiffs, each as big as a sofa, pounced on me without warning, slamming their way through the large iron gate between us with a loud crash. I instinctively stumbled backward, breaking out in a cold sweat. If they had caught me, along with some soy milk and porridge, I would have been their perfect breakfast.
Two dogs behind the iron gate kept growling at me. An old woman who was watering the flowers said to someone, "Can't you two keep an eye on the dogs? They're giving me a headache."
It seemed the old lady was quite popular among the servants; soon two people came over, smiling, and led the dog away. The old lady continued with her work, ignoring me.
I walked up to the iron gate and shouted at the top of my lungs, "Auntie, where is this?!"
The old lady said irritably, "Where else could it be? Chun Kong Shan Villa."
Suddenly I remembered. No wonder the name sounded so familiar. Chun Kong Shan—that's a famous villa district, known as "a paradise for the rich." It sounds kind of creepy.
But the people who can live here are truly exceptional. Although I also claim to live in a villa, my little two-story house is just a cold room compared to theirs.
I raised my voice again and asked, "Auntie, how many households are there around here?"
The old lady suddenly straightened up, looked me over from a distance, and said, "There's no one else around for 20 miles. Who are you looking for?"
I said, "I wasn't looking for anyone, I just wandered around and ended up here."
I peeked around for a while but didn't find anything, so I went back to the car. Suddenly, the old lady behind me said, "Why don't you come in and sit for a while?"
I was just thinking that even if it wasn't the person I was looking for, it would be nice to go in and see for myself, so I said loudly, "Okay—" It was really hard to talk from this distance, but the old lady's voice was surprisingly strong. Hearing me say that, she threw her spoon into the flower bed, took off her straw hat, and fanned herself as she walked towards me. She had only gone halfway when the people in the foyer, probably having heard our conversation through the monitor, clicked the electronic lock on the main gate, and a small door, big enough for two people to pass side by side, opened a crack. Seeing this, the old lady waved her straw hat at me and said, "Come in."
My car was unlocked, and the key was still in the ignition. I considered locking it, but then I felt it was a bit shady—wouldn't that make me look like Li Tianrun (a character from a popular Chinese novel)? If that were really my rival, wouldn't I be laughed at? But if I leave it unlocked, I still feel like it's a car, no matter how old it is.
I hesitated for a moment, then shouted at the old lady's retreating back, "No one will steal the car if it's left here, right?"
The old lady turned around, glanced at my dusty van, and said loudly, "No one's stealing it! Then drive it in too, it's embarrassing to leave it there!"
Chapter Sixty-Five: Auspicious Empress Dowager
At first, I didn't quite understand what the old lady meant, but then I realized she was saying that my car being parked there was embarrassing for her...
The gate opened at just the right moment, so I had to get back into the car and drive in. The view suddenly became much wider; I saw lawns and lounges perfect for celebrity parties, just like in the movies, and even stables in the distance. Even the steps of that massive building were made of gleaming marble; I reckon a single piece would be more expensive than my car.
I got out of the car dejectedly. The old lady had already tidied up her watering tools and was holding them in her hand. She waved them at me and said, "Go sit over there."
That's when I noticed a simple pergola made of bamboo and grapevines next to the flower bed, with teapots, tea sets, and stools made from tree stumps inside. What surprised me even more was that when I got closer, I realized that the flower bed wasn't planted with any expensive flowers at all, but rather with eggplants, tomatoes, and cucumbers.
I couldn't help but exclaim, "You've done a great job with the vegetable garden!"
The old lady shook her head, as if she were dissatisfied with someone, and said, "It just looks good. These vegetables have to be irrigated with manure; those grown with chemical fertilizers don't have any aroma."
As I walked into the pergola, I said, "How could the noble people living here possibly let you water the ground with manure?"
The old lady still said with dissatisfaction, "No matter how noble a person is, didn't they all grow up eating farm food when they were young?"
I chuckled and sat down on the tree stump. The old woman tossed her watering can and straw hat aside and sat down as well, and only then did I get a clear look at her. She was the kind of elderly person you'd see anywhere in the countryside, with white hair mixed with gray. She wore a loose floral shirt, and her exposed skin was a healthy tan. It was hard to estimate her age; her wrinkles and age spots made her look seventy or eighty, but her demeanor and gait suggested she was at most sixty. What was remarkable was the old woman's exceptionally bright eyes, and she possessed a genuine simplicity and insight of old age. Although she never spoke in a very gentle tone, she still seemed kind, like a forgotten country grandmother complaining to her visiting grandson.
I suddenly remembered something and asked cautiously, "Auntie, will your owner scold you for letting me in? Don't let me cause you to lose your job."
The old lady said nonchalantly, "It's alright, I'm all alone here."
I thought the old lady's speech was a little unclear. The person who was walking the dog was nowhere to be seen, and there was clearly someone in the foyer. But since she said that, the owner probably wasn't home often. I relaxed on the tree stump, took out a cigarette, and lit it. The old lady deftly reached into my cigarette case, grabbed one, pulled out a box of matches from somewhere, struck a match, and waved the golden flame in front of me, indicating I should light it. I quickly said, "You go first, I'll do it myself." The old lady couldn't speak because of the cigarette in her mouth, but she just waved the flame at me again, so I had no choice but to lean in and smoke. The old lady lit hers, shook it out, and skillfully exhaled a puff of smoke.
I laughed and said, "You wouldn't believe it, you're an old hand at this."
The old lady, smoking, reached for the teapot. I quickly took it from her, poured her a cup, and then poured myself one too. I took a sip; it smelled wonderful. She nodded her thanks, picked up the cup, took a sip, and put it down, saying, "They told me to try hookah. What kind of smoke is hookah? It's so mild." She turned and pointed to the villa, "And this house, what's it called—Baroque style? Nothing compares to the comfortable old houses in our countryside."
I laughed and said, "I think the owner of this house is quite nice, even letting you grow vegetables."
The old lady waved her hand: "They never agreed. I wanted to plant it myself."
I thought to myself, this old lady is really tough. She's probably one of those nanny-like figures in TV dramas who raised young masters from childhood. She's got a bit of a powerful influence over the master. Otherwise, how could she let an outsider like me in?
I asked, "What is the family name of this host?"
The old lady glanced at me and said, "My surname is Jin."
"Jin?" Someone surnamed Jin, and so rich—I said, sweating profusely, "Could this be Jin Shaoyan's family?"
The old lady said, "That's right. You know our grandson, don't you?"
"I...know..." This was actually Jin Shaoyan's house. I couldn't help but smile wryly. Was this fate or just bad luck? But what surprised me even more was the word "grandson." Theoretically, if there's a grandson, there must be a grandmother, so it was obvious who this old lady from the countryside was. I suddenly remembered Jin Shaoyan telling me about his grandmother. He said that she grew her own vegetables, and even though she lived in a villa, she still called the bathroom the outhouse, and she had a bit of a temper... All of this was told to me by Jin Yi. I remember that even the arrogant Jin Yi spoke of his grandmother with a smile, radiating such affection and respect.
No wonder this old lady dared to let me in with just a word, no wonder I always felt that although she was kind, she still had an air of authority about her. It turns out she is the Empress Dowager of the Jin family.
When Grandma Jin heard that I knew Jin Shaoyan, she casually asked, "What's your name?"
"I... Xiao... Xiao Qiang."
I originally thought that Grandma Jin might not know me, but to my surprise, she slammed her teacup down and said sternly, "It was you, you good-for-nothing, who sent my grandson to the hospital on my 80th birthday?"
I quickly straightened up and slowly slid towards the car: "Well... you're busy, I'll be going now." The old lady slammed her hand on the table, and the two dog handlers reappeared from nowhere, staring at us menacingly. I reckon that once the old lady spoke, those two servants would pounce on us faster than dogs.
Grandma Jin pointed at me and commanded succinctly, "Sit down!"
I sat down obediently, looking around to see if there was another way out.
"Why did you take pictures of him? You ruined my happy occasion."
Grandma Jin revealed her true, fierce nature as an empress dowager, and I had no choice but to bluntly say, "Because your grandson offended me." I thought to myself that if I hadn't thrown that brick, things would probably have gotten much worse than just a mess.
Unexpectedly, Grandma Jin suddenly sighed and said, "I know my grandson. He's not very good at dealing with people. He'll suffer sooner or later. It's a relief that he got what he deserved from you. Actually, I wanted you two to be friends in the future. But you know what Jinzi is like. He's petty and intolerant. Plus, with his increasingly unreasonable parents instigating things, you two brothers can't be friends anymore. As for you, I don't think you're like what they say. Although you talk a lot, you're definitely not a bad person."
I figured the Empress Dowager wouldn't be able to unleash her dogs on me, so I immediately straightened my back and said, "Right? You're the only one who understands—they're all probably calling me a hooligan!"