Je suis née beauté, et je suis suprême

Chapitre 365

The old man's beard trembled with anger, but he managed to hold back his rage: "Well done! Did I raise you all these years just so you could annoy this old man like me?! Suicide pact! Cough! Cough! Cough!"

"The old man's health is the most important thing!"

The lady wept softly, "Just let him go. If he doesn't want to marry Fu'er, let him be with that Miss Lin. I don't want anything to happen to him..." They had a son late in life; how could they, as white-haired people, bury their black-haired child?

The old man, leaning on his cane and gripping the dragon head tightly, stared at his beloved son, whom he cherished most in this life, his lips pale. He just couldn't understand why Qian liked to be with that fickle woman.

Forget it! He compromised. As long as his son woke up, he would accept it. After all, they weren't respectable people, so their reputation wasn't that important.

However, this time it benefited Xinran Group again, and Yang Xuansi won again for no reason!

How infuriating! How can I not be infuriated! Yang Qide's grandsons are all excelling in everything, even his great-grandson—the eighteen-year-old Yang Bingchen—is in the spotlight. Look at what his good son is doing! Suicide pact? Is he trying to make us laugh to death?!

A week later, Chou Qian was transferred from the intensive care unit to a deluxe ward. He was still wrapped in bandages. The doctor said: "You have extensive burns and need skin grafts."

"No need." He's used to looking ugly, and he's afraid she won't recognize him if he changes his appearance.

"Qianqian..." His wife called him, but he was still not used to having parents who had suddenly appeared.

He wanted to see Ziyi and find out if she was doing well, but he couldn't be rash, or he would be the one to suffer.

"Today, the Ouyang Group completed its share transfer. The 33-year-old second young master of the Ouyang family will become the next president of the Ouyang Group. Will this large group, which started with steel and is now declining from its peak of prosperity, show any signs of improvement due to this change in executive? Below is a detailed report on the group."

The scene cuts back to the historic handover moment. Isn't that guy with fire in his eyes, who wished he could chop off his own hand after shaking hands, the brother he's been fighting with for so many years?

Haha! Ouyang Wu Hui! Wherever I go, I can't help but be haunted by your ghost!

Sikong wasn't in a hurry. He wanted to wait for the right time to declare his ownership of her. If he wasn't mistaken, this was her hometown, and it was a monogamous place. The first thing he should do after recovering was to register their marriage!

[Side Story 2: Little Grass (Part 1)]

"Sister, do you like it here?"

"No." The elder sister looked at the young master coming and going, her peerless beauty showing not a trace of a smile.

"Let's go." The room was gloomy, and I felt like crying.

"No."

"Why?" We can tell Uncle Zhong.

"I don't know, but you can't say."

I lowered my head, not understanding what my sister meant. My sister always had many reasons, but I didn't understand what they meant.

"It's time to practice."

"Yes." I was scared, but my sister wasn't. Why? I don't know.

Shen Ziyi – I didn’t feel anything when I heard this name, until I heard that he had something to do with the master and that my sister was in a bad mood. That’s when I realized that Shen Ziyi had angered my proud sister.

What kind of person is he/she?

I used this as an excuse to leave the Sikong Mansion. No one asked where I was going. Just like when I was at home, everyone was staring at my sister. No one remembered that I existed. Where I went was meaningless to that person.

Shen Ziyi is of average appearance, and having grown accustomed to her sister's serene beauty, it's hard for me to be impressed by her.

If I had to describe my initial reaction upon seeing her, it would probably be one of confusion: something seems off about her.

She is indeed strange, her habits are strange, and her status in this family is also strange. She has been here for so long, and it seems that no one cares about her except for the fourth young master: Shouldn't the master's focus be on the object of others' adoration?

The fourth young master looked at me with hostility. His behavior made me want to laugh. A brother who dotes on his younger brother will never be indifferent to what might happen to him!

I didn't look up. Why make trouble for myself when I don't belong to myself?

But my behavior was wrong. I should have acted more like a bullied servant, but I couldn't. I made many obvious mistakes because I felt she wouldn't blame me, and she wouldn't have the time to argue with me.

As it turns out, I was right. No matter how outrageous my behavior was, she wouldn't even glance at me. If she did look at me, it was because she was incredibly bored and didn't know who to vent her anger on.

The Fifteenth Madam rarely visited me, but she was very protective of me. She arranged accommodations for me and I only saw her when we were short-handed or when I realized I wanted to be a good maid.

It seems I'm surviving again in a corner, in a place where no one can see me, behind the scenes where no one pays attention...

As I listened to the Fifteenth Madam reprimanding her, tears streamed down my face, and I choked back sobs, unable to cry out.

"You have no fragrance, no towering height, you are a little grass that we all know! Little grass! Come out!"

I slowly walked out of the room, taking one step at a time as I approached her (no matter how beautiful the song, it couldn't make up for the words she uttered afterward):

"Wash my clothes."

She threw her court robe at me, hooked my chin, kicked the robe, and walked away.

Is this the kind of person who gets the master's attention?

I watched her disappear in a daze, picked up the clothes from the ground, and carefully folded them: she deserved to die for insulting the imperial robes of the time.

It seems the master's point of view is correct: if we don't keep an eye on her, she'll die quickly.

The clothes weren't dirty; except for the cuffs, which she had made look like a dining table, the rest of the clothes were new.

I sat by the well, not minding washing her clothes or doing servant's work. It was fine; I didn't feel special or need anyone's attention.

To live quietly and simply, without the competition of experts or the treacherous life within the household, a life as plain as well water—that is the life I desire.

I turned her clothes over and noticed the cuff was ripped. I turned back and sewed it up for her. "Little Grass, the Fourth Young Master wants you to come over."