Les Secrets du Paradis, Saison 4

Chapitre 43

She arrived at the parking lot and had just taken out her keys when a tall figure blocked the light. She looked up sharply and paused for a moment before recognizing the person in front of her.

Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-One: Father's Last Words

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"What are you doing here?" She changed cars, partly because the Ferrari was too conspicuous, and she didn't need to drive that kind of car to work now, and partly to avoid him. Of course, since they lived in the same building, changing cars wasn't really an issue. But she knew him well enough to know he wouldn't ask her anything in front of everyone.

Feng Nian'en smiled but did not answer. He reached out and took the keys from her hand, pushed her to the other side, and sat in the driver's seat himself.

Zhang Hanwen sat in the car in a daze before snapping out of his reverie.

"Where would you like to go, Miss?"

She frowned, offering no answer. Nearly ten days had passed since Feng Nian'en first called her. During those ten days, he had called her every day, but each time she hung up. He had come to see her three times, but she had made excuses to turn him away each time. Since the fifth day, he hadn't come to see her again, and his tone on the phone wasn't as urgent as before. That was his personality; he would never ask too many questions or say anything more, always giving up easily and never striving for improvement. She wasn't without a trace of resentment, but she knew this was for the best.

But today he actually blocked her way in the parking lot, and the expression on his face—she secretly observed the person beside her from the corner of her eye; his appearance was still so ordinary. Plain short hair, a white shirt, a light blue floral tie with a gold tie clip, the sleeves rolled up to reveal pale, muscular arms, and black suit trousers.

She had seen him like this countless times. He was always conservative and clean, and even in summer, the smell emanating from his clothes carried the fresh scent of sunshine.

But today, there was something different about him. Her gaze returned to his face, and she saw his mouth opening and closing as if he were saying something. She snapped back to reality and heard a gentle voice: "How is Mingyuan?"

"What?"

"Mingyuan Restaurant, doesn't Miss like their ice cream?"

Yes! That's it! Taking matters into his own hands! The old Feng Nian'en would never have ambushed her in the parking lot; at most, he would have secretly followed behind to ensure her safety. The old Feng Nian'en would never have rashly taken the keys from her hand and sat in the driver's seat without her consent. The old Feng Nian'en would never have suggested where to go; he would only ever say "yes, yes, yes," and "okay, okay, okay." He wouldn't contradict her if she said one thing, and he wouldn't say another if she didn't speak.

But today, he did everything he wouldn't have done before. Why? What caused such a big change in him?

Seeing that she didn't object, Feng Nian'en drove the car towards Mingyuan Restaurant. After parking, they ordered a private room, sat down at the table, picked up the menu, and listed Zhang Hanwen's usual favorite dishes before finally asking, "Is this alright?"

Zhang Hanwen shook his head blankly, his eyes looking as if he were looking at some rare animal.

Feng Nian'en closed the menu and ordered a bottle of red wine from Bordeaux, France.

"You won the lottery?" Zhang Hanwen finally asked.

"No." He smiled gently.

"This meal is worth at least a month's salary for you." Seeing the familiar smile, she immediately felt relieved, and her tone became much lighter.

“I know.” He took the wine from the waiter, gestured for him to leave, and filled both glasses to about seven-tenths full.

Zhang Hanwen narrowed his eyes: "You're hiding something from me."

Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-Two of Father's Last Words

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Feng Nian'en's hand trembled slightly. Why were all the women around him so intelligent? Or was he just too clumsy?

Zhang Hanwen sneered and was about to speak when he suddenly remembered that he also had something to hide from him. He lowered his head, took a sip of red wine, and his expression darkened.

"Let's eat first, okay?" Although she was eager to ask that question, she hesitated for a moment and decided to postpone it.

The calm of the red wine was disrupted by a drop of water that fell from nowhere, creating ripples in the narrow, wide-mouthed glass. Zhang Hanwen felt a pang of sorrow in his heart, and only when he heard Feng Nian'en's urgent question did he realize that the drop of water was actually his own tears.

She actually cried...

Feng Nian'en stood up helplessly, wanting to comfort her but not knowing where to begin. Finally, remembering Ruoya's instructions, she gritted her teeth and reached out to pull her into her arms.

To her surprise, his action stunned Zhang Hanwen. She stared at him blankly, tears welling in her eyes, her face filled with disbelief. After a long pause, she finally asked abruptly, "Who are you?"

Feng Nian'en looked at her awkwardly, recalling Ruoya's words: "If you intend to help her with anything, then you must show it. A woman will never confide her secrets to a servant who only knows how to talk. What she needs now is not the Feng Nian'en of the past."

These words were extremely harsh, but they were true. What use would it be to tell him if I didn't have sufficient power? How would she know if I didn't demonstrate my strength?

So today, contrary to his usual behavior, he acted on his own initiative, even surprising himself with his actions. However, it seemed the effect wasn't too bad. But Zhang Hanwen's words left him speechless. In the end, he could only weakly call out, "Miss."

After asking this question, Zhang Hanwen realized that he was being too sensitive. Although these actions were very different from his usual behavior, could it be that he was possessed by some kind of ghost?

An awkward silence fell over the room. Fortunately, the waiter started serving the dishes, and the two quickly separated, sat up straight, and neither spoke again until all the dishes were served.

Feng Nian'en stared at the exquisite plate in front of her, as if she had made a great decision before blurting out a seemingly nonsensical sentence: "The Dow Jones index rose by five percentage points today."

Zhang Hanwen looked up at him with a puzzled expression, as if only to avoid an awkward silence by saying, "I don't know when you started caring about these things."

"Ten days ago," he answered quickly, his expression serious and not joking.

Zhang Hanwen was stunned again. Feng Nian'en had surprised her too many times today, but she still said, "Your personality is not suited to playing these games."

He gave a wry smile. When he went to ask Lan Ya for advice, the vampire, whose every move exuded elegance, said something similar: "Boy, your personality is not suited for this. You are too serious and too easily believe lies. This is like gambling. These fluctuating curves are the house's ingenious tricks. You think you've seen through it, but you're actually falling into a trap."

“Not suitable doesn’t mean it can’t be done,” was his answer at the time. It wasn’t that he had such courage, but that he had no other choice. The only way to get a large sum of money in the short term was to gamble! If 30 million and 3,000 yuan both failed, he had no choice but to risk everything and try to turn 30 million into 300 million, 3 billion, or even… 30 billion!

Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-Three of Father's Last Words

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Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-Three of Father's Last Words

Author: Flowing Years

"So, you've had some good luck these past few days?" Her words carried a hint of sarcasm. She had never liked men who showed off their money, and she hadn't expected him to be the same way!

Feng Nian'en nodded. He had a good teacher, and also some luck that even Lan Ya acknowledged.

That was his first attempt. Looking at the curve that resembled an electrocardiogram, he felt completely bewildered. Although Lan Ya had given him the necessary explanations, he still couldn't discern the future trend from the fluctuating lines.

In the end, he only chose one based on intuition. Judging from Ranga's expression at the time, he knew he had made the right choice, and sure enough, he won. Although he chose wrong the second time, he still managed to cover his entire stake for the day.

However, his personality was indeed unsuitable for this job, especially when he learned that Ranya never bet less than a million dollars on him each time, which gave him a real scare. The next day, he practically forced himself to go to Ranya's apartment.

That day, he mastered more terminology and rules, but his funds were reduced by a tenth. When he realized he had lost three million dollars in less than five hours, his only thought was how lucky he was to have become a ghost, otherwise even the strongest heart would have given out by now.

But he lost even more badly in the next three days, as if all the curves were working against him. His analysis predicted an increase, but the results showed a decrease; and the bets he avoided consistently favored certain stocks.

Perhaps seeing how badly he was losing, the relaxed man, who had been acting as if he were on vacation at the beach, kindly offered to say that he had lost three times as much money in the past few days. Then, after what seemed like a moment's thought, he said in a very serious tone, "Could it be that I've caught your bad luck? You did quite well on the first day."

It's said that people who lose at gambling have bad tempers, and he wasn't much better. He bluntly said that he relied entirely on his feelings on the first day, but later he used the methods he taught him, which is why he lost so badly.

"Then you might as well rely on your feelings. Some people do have a better sense of these things." Lan Ya shrugged, not angry.

His intuition was remarkably accurate that day, but tragically, it was completely reversed. Just as his analysis predicted, he felt he would win but was destined to lose, and he felt he was doomed but was destined to rise.

Finally, when his assets, which came and went so quickly, were about to disappear completely, he blindfolded himself and pointed wildly as if he didn't care about his life.

Whether by sheer luck or divine intervention, he won that day. Although he was far from recouping his losses, he finally managed to stop himself from going astray.

It was after that day that he seemed to suddenly crack open and grasp the traces of those curves, just like a gambler who has paid his dues finally sees through the bookmaker's tricks.

Although there were still occasional errors in the following two days, he managed to recoup all his initial investment and even made a slight profit. Most importantly, according to Lan Ya, he had become bolder. He could invest one million, two million, or even tens of millions of dollars without batting an eye.

His courage has indeed grown after this incident. If it were ten days ago, even if Ruoya had repeatedly warned him, he would never have dared to hold Zhang Hanwen in his arms.

Thinking of this, a smile appeared on his lips. In an instant, he felt his whole body filled with power, as if he could hold up the sky even if it collapsed.

This confident smile provoked Zhang Hanwen, and her tone became even more mocking: "So you've got the guts to bring me here to eat?"

Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-Four: Father's Last Words

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Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-Four: Father's Last Words

Author: Flowing Years

Feng Nian'en looked at her with some surprise, wondering what she had done wrong: "I just thought... Miss likes the food here."

"I like it? I like it?" The voice was shrill. "What does it matter whether I like it or not? When have you ever cared whether I like it or not!" She took a breath. "Just say what you have to say, I hate this place!"

Feng Nian'en remained silent for a moment.

"Did you hear me? I hate this place! I can't stand being here even for a second longer, especially with you! I hate it!" she yelled, even she believed she truly hated this place. The walls, the music, the furnishings—everything was so jarring. How could she have ever liked it before?

"Miss, why are you coming to the company?"

The very soft question silenced the room instantly, and even the music that had been playing from the speakers seemed to stop.

"Why should I join the company?" She laughed maniacally. "Why should I join the company?" Her laughter subsided, her tone shifting to a sharp, almost shrill voice. "Why can't I join the company? Do I have to report to you about everything I do? Is Zhang's yours? What are you? What right do you have to ask me that?"

She knew he would ask, so why was she still so agitated? Deep down, she knew this had nothing to do with him, but she still desperately wanted to hurt him, as if his pain would lessen hers. She knew she would regret it later, but at this moment, she couldn't stop herself from speaking.

"You ask me why I joined the company. Do I need to tell you? Do I? Listen carefully, you—Feng Nian'en—are nothing more than a member of the Zhang family..."

“Thirteen days ago, I met with Long Xinsheng.” His voice was filled with endless bitterness.

"You are nothing but...what—?" As if suddenly waking from a delirium, she glared at him, her breathing becoming rapid involuntarily. "You said you saw Long Xinsheng? Impossible! How could you have seen him? Why would he want to meet you?"

“He told me something.” He turned his face away, looking at the oil painting on the wall as if trying to avoid it.

"What is it?" The three words seemed to come out of his throat at the same time, trembling from being squeezed out.

He turned to look into her eyes, his face expressionless, but his dark pupils held endless pity: "Some things he shouldn't have told me..."

Zhang Hanwen chuckled twice: "Really? He told you he married a woman in America? No, then he's gay? No, that's not right either. Ah, then he has AIDS, he does drugs? He joined a terrorist organization... It must be this, he's a woman!"

Feng Nian'en had no expression; he simply stared intently at her.

Zhang Hanwen kept talking, blaming Long Xinsheng for almost every strange and heinous thing in the matter. Finally, perhaps when she could no longer find the words, she downed the wine in her glass in one gulp and smashed the glass on the ground with a bang.

The delicate glass shattered instantly. Zhang Hanwen raised his eyes, glaring fiercely at Feng Nian'en: "Since you already know, why are you asking me? Are you having fun playing with me? Finally, you can get your revenge? Come on, I'm not Zhang Jiru's daughter anymore. You don't need to be polite to me anymore, you don't need to bow and scrape to me. Come on, take your revenge! Didn't you hate me for forcing you to do things since you were little? That dragonfly, didn't you hate me for clipping its wings? Didn't you hate me for always calling you an idiot? You've finally waited for this day, haven't you? It's been tough, hasn't it? Come on! Come on! Come on!..."

Volume Two, Chapter Fifty-Five: Father's Last Words

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She screamed, each scream sharper than the last, her eyes burning as if on fire.

Feng Nian'en stepped forward and pressed down on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. However, she swung her arms and hit him like a madwoman. She grabbed, scratched, and punched him. Feng Nian'en stood there without dodging, until her hands gradually weakened and he finally hugged her.

Who could understand this feeling better than him? In an instant, everything changed drastically; there was no going back, no longer being the person he once was. Who could understand this sense of bewilderment, this pain, better than him?

“It’s alright, Miss,” he whispered as he held her. “It’s alright.”

"I'm not your lady anymore." She leaned on his shoulder, her large eyes filled with confusion, her voice low and hoarse, "I'm not your lady anymore..."

He tightened his grip on her arms, his heart filled with utter hatred for Long Xinsheng. He wanted revenge, he wanted to reclaim everything he'd lost; he could do whatever he wanted himself. Why did he have to drag her along? Why did he have to make her endure this agonizing, life-altering pain?

"What should we do?" Her voice seemed to be tinged with a faint gray-gold hue amidst the low, melancholic melody of the saxophone. "I'm no longer your lady. You're leaving, aren't you?"

"No, I won't leave."

"Really?" There was no joy in his voice. "Aren't you leaving?"

"I'm not leaving."

"But I have to go." She said, gently pushing him away. Her beautiful face was pale and lifeless, and her thick eyelashes cast shadows on her lifeless eyes. She murmured to herself again, "I have to go."