"Zhao Wenchun! You come home right now! See what kind of good daughter you've raised!"
——
When he received the call, Zhao Wenchun had just finished lecturing, and two students were asking him questions. Ding Yahe's attitude was too forceful, and she also mentioned Zhao Xiyin. Zhao Wenchun was on edge, so he put aside what he was doing and rushed home.
Halfway through the taxi ride, Zhao Wenchun grew increasingly anxious and instinctively called Zhao Xiyin. She managed to control herself somewhat, only subtly asking where she was.
Zhao Xiyin said she had just arrived at the dance troupe and was preparing to warm up.
Her life was normal, and she was safe. Once he confirmed these two things, half the weight on Zhao Wenchun's heart was lifted. Zhao Xiyin asked him what was wrong, but he gave a few perfunctory replies and hung up the phone.
It took Zhao Wenchun about forty minutes to get home from C University. He must have been rushing, because sitting in the taxi, he felt a tightness in his chest. He couldn't help but say to the driver, "Brother, could you please open the window for a moment?"
At the same airport, Zhou Qishen took the earliest flight from Hangzhou to Beijing. As soon as he stepped off the plane, he turned on his phone and received a report from his secretary. After quickly reading it, Zhou Qishen's face turned extremely grim.
The secretary called back, "Mr. Zhou, that's roughly the content online. The buzz isn't too high, but I've communicated with the platform, and you've received clear instructions from several marketing accounts to repost it at different times. Don't worry, I've already done the public relations work."
Zhou Qishen only said, "Don't say another word. Find out who the other side is."
“That’s easy to handle, but the troupe has already spoken to Xiao Zhao separately.”
Zhou Qishen frowned. "Why are you looking for her?"
The secretary carefully considered his words and actions, then said, "Regulate your words and actions to minimize the impact."
Zhou Qishen instantly exploded, "To hell with him! That Meng guy is a coward!"
His thuggish demeanor drew stares from passersby. Zhou Qishen paid no heed, never caring about others' opinions. His secretary, remaining fair and rational, corrected him, saying, "President Meng probably doesn't know either; he's been attending regional training meetings all week."
The driver waited outside the airport and opened the car door for Zhou Qishen.
A faint smell of mutton wafted into the car. Zhou Qishen calmed himself for a moment and then ordered, "Go check on Xiao Xi."
After a few seconds of contemplation, he called Zhao Wenchun.
Zhao Wenchun was still feeling a bit unwell in the taxi, but she forced herself to stay alert. "Qishen, oh, you're back in Beijing? No, no, I'm not at school right now. You can eat by yourself. Where am I going? Well, something came up at home. Xiaoxi's mom is looking for me, and I'm on my way back."
Zhao Wenchun was clearly unwilling to talk any longer. As soon as he hung up, his secretary called.
"President Zhou, the people in the group said that Xiao west asked for leave this morning and just left."
Where is her sister?
"He also took leave and didn't come."
Zhou Qishen felt a chill run through his chest, a chill that seemed to freeze over. His head suddenly throbbed, and his voice tightened, "Turn around, immediately."
Chapter 32 Decluttering (2)
Decluttering (2)
Zhao Wenchun got out of the taxi, and the driver handed him two yuan in change through the window. Under the sycamore tree, Ding Yahe stood with her arms crossed, her high heels slender, her makeup and hair exquisite. She looked incredibly impatient, constantly checking the time. Ni Rui stood beside her, nodding slightly in their direction. Ding Yahe turned around, her aura instantly becoming imposing.
Having not seen each other for so many years, Zhao Wenchun felt a little awkward. He approached and kindly said, "It's windy outside, why don't you come in and sit for a while?"
Ding Yahe sneered, "Then you should go home, close the door, and avoid making a fool of yourself."
Zhao Wenchun frowned slightly, hesitating to speak, but after being glared at by her domineering gaze, he gave up in frustration.
"Please sit down, I'll pour you some water." As they entered the room, Zhao Wenchun didn't let them take off their shoes, maintaining basic politeness, though her heart was pounding wildly.
This was Ni Rui's first time here. She could see the entire two-bedroom apartment at a glance. Although it was clean and tidy, the decor was incredibly outdated. After surveying the place, she stamped her approval with disdain.
"Alright, alright, don't bother pouring any more water." Ding Yahe stood by the sofa, looking at him and said, "Zhao Wenchun, we parted amicably back then, going our separate ways. Logically speaking, I shouldn't be coming to see you today."
Zhao Wenchun put down his water glass, his lips trembled slightly, and then he nodded, "Ah."
Ding Yahe interpreted his reaction as passive acceptance, which immediately brought to mind the trivial unpleasantness of their past life together. She had always felt that Zhao Wenchun's refined and scholarly demeanor was the most useless thing; he lacked the responsibility of a man and was full of the pedantry of a poor scholar.
Ding Yahe's aesthetic preferences have been deeply ingrained for decades and still carry a bias to this day.
“But you and I have a daughter together. You’ve worked hard all these years, raising Xiyin all by yourself. This is all thanks to you, and I’m very grateful to you.”
Zhao Wenchun said calmly, "She's my daughter, it's only right, there's nothing to thank me for."
Interrupted, Ding Yahe became even more displeased and snorted coldly, "I understand that it's not easy for you to be a man, but you yourself said that she is your daughter. You have to fulfill your obligations and responsibilities."
Zhao Wenchun frowned deeply. "What exactly happened to Xiao west?"
"What's wrong? You have the nerve to ask me what's wrong?" Ding Yahe's expression changed, and the unpleasantness from the morning gradually poured out. "When she was little, I was against her learning to dance. It was you who insisted that her interests were the most important thing and that she should be happy. It's your indulgent attitude that has made Zhao Xiyin so spoiled and ignorant now."
Zhao Wenchun immediately became unhappy, "My Xiaoxi is very sensible, you can't say that about her."
"Sensible? Ha! That's the biggest joke today." Ding Yahe was furious. "She doesn't know anything."
"Yahe, I know you've always held a grudge against me. If we're compatible, we'll stay together; if not, we'll part ways. You can live the life you want, and I'll keep to my own. We'll each bear our own joys and sorrows, the daily grind and the hardships. Now, neither of us owes the other anything. You can choose to never see each other again, but you can't slander Xiaoxi like this. After all, she's your daughter too."
Zhao Wenchun remained calm and composed, explaining his reasoning clearly and logically. This contrasted sharply with Ding Yahe's increasingly aggressive demeanor. Her eyes darted around in anger, her emotions surging, and she said, word by word, "Zhao Wenchun, you're blaming me now, aren't you? Fine, today we'll settle the score."
Ding Yahe crossed her arms and paced back and forth around the sofa, her high heels jingling. "You're fifty this year, and you've only just been promoted to full professor? Your colleagues Zhang and Huang have been enjoying their titles and benefits for years. Who has more seniority than you? You're just not bright enough. And how did you treat my mother before? I asked you to buy her gifts during holidays, but you wouldn't listen, making me the laughingstock of those other women. You don't understand social etiquette. All you do is write those messy poems and calligraphy all day. Can ideals put food on the table? Do you own a gold mine or something? You're just afraid to face reality."
The count of crimes is so high that even ten or a hundred would not be enough.
"Think about it yourself, doesn't Xiaoxi look exactly like you now? Isn't her current lifestyle a direct inheritance of yours?" Ding Yahe asked in quick succession, her anger rising rapidly, as if a wildfire could break out at any moment.
Zhao Wenchun opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted sharply by her, "My Xiaoxi is presentable in both appearance and education. She could have married into a prestigious family and lived a glamorous life, but look at her, look at the kind of man she married. Poor background, unknown family history. Even if she didn't go to a good university, she should at least have a college diploma. Zhou Qishen is at best a nouveau riche, a brute. You, as her father, are short-sighted and ignorant, yet you agreed to let your daughter marry him. Now you're reaping the consequences. Divorced at such a young age, she's wasted the best years of her life on that old man. What did she gain? What did she gain at all!"
Ding Yahe, whose voice was already loud, seemed to sympathize deeply as she spoke, her eyes glistening with tears. "Okay, this isn't your fault. It's like me, just like me. My daughter and I both had bad luck with men; we were blinded when we were young."