The Art of Teasing - Chapter 90

Chapter 90

A faint sense of dejection lingered in Wen Zhengyu's heart, her thoughts drifting aimlessly without anchor.

She sat by the window in a daze for a while, and by the time it was past two in the afternoon, after greeting the old matriarch, she took the Mid-Autumn Festival gifts and headed to Old Master Qi's residence.

She was her master's personal disciple, and the proprieties for the three major festivals and two annual birthdays absolutely could not be neglected.

Regarding Ye Ling's matter, her master had rendered immense help, and now that there was a result, she had to let her master know. She also told her master about Lian Xin and Ye Ling gifting her the residence together, including how Ye Ling had renovated the house, added furniture, and even bought back her grandmother's dowry furniture that had been sold from her room.

After hearing this, Old Master Qi nodded and said, "She is a thoughtful one." Adding furniture, he could understand. But helping Wen Zhengyu buy back the sold dowry—that point was worth some reflection. When he had asked an old friend for help, the old friend naturally had to inquire about what kind of person Ye Ling was before deciding whether to assist. It was only after learning that Ye Ling was close to his little disciple that the old friend had specifically warned him about the rumors concerning Ye Ling's sexual orientation.

Between master and disciple, they had always spoken frankly about everything.

Old Master Qi then asked Wen Zhengyu what exactly her relationship with Ye Ling was. Since his little disciple was looking for a partner, he had to help vet the candidate. If his little disciple was choosing a woman as a companion, it was something he wanted to dissuade her from, if persuasion were possible.

Wen Zhengyu admitted honestly, "Feelings were stirred."

That his little disciple could have her feelings stirred made Old Master Qi regard Ye Ling with newfound respect. His little disciple had said "feelings were stirred," not "a little stirred," which meant she had still rejected it. Since it was already a lost cause, there must be something unsatisfactory somewhere, and Old Master Qi decided not to pry further. He picked up the bronze tiger-shaped paperweight his disciple had brought, examined it meticulously, and asked, "Not cheap, I take it?"

Wen Zhengyu said, "It was alright, they didn't ask a high price. Porcelain, calligraphy, and paintings are expensive, but bronze items like this, especially scholars' studio implements, really aren't costly." A Ming dynasty bronze paperweight wasn't something with grand provenance; its greatest value lay in its age and that sense of archaic simplicity.

Old Master Qi said, "If your family still had its old circumstances, I'd accept this. But now you're strapped for cash, and going forward, maintaining the Old Family Mansion will add another large expense. You should economize. These pastries and mooncakes, I'll take. This, take it back."

Wen Zhengyu said, "It's not a gift for you. You asked your old friend for a favor; I can't let you expend goodwill and still have to prepare a thank-you gift yourself."

Old Master Qi said, "Though I acted as the go-between, it truly didn't cost me a penny. The gifts that should be given, the thank-you presents that should be prepared—Ye Ling handled all of it. For us old fellows, she prepared generous gifts for each."

"Old Yu barely earns enough selling paintings to pay for his grandson's studies abroad. Ye Ling arranged everything meticulously this time—not only providing tuition and buying an apartment, but also hiring someone to help secure a green card. She spent quite a lot of money. Old Yu and his wife have been here to thank me several times already."

"Speaking of which, Ye Ling's conduct and way of handling affairs—there's really nothing to criticize."

Wen Zhengyu listened quietly, nodded gently, and said nothing.

She stayed a while longer to chat idly with her master, then took her leave.

Her master hadn't accepted the bronze tiger paperweight and had her bring it back.

She was busy until evening before returning to her maternal grandmother's house. Upon entering, the old matriarch handed her a box of keys. "Lian Xin sent this over, saying Ye Ling asked him to pass it on to you." Having said that, she scrutinized her granddaughter carefully. If the keys to the residence had to be delivered through Lian Xin, clearly the two of them had fallen out.

She accepted the box, sat down on the sofa, and opened it to find it filled with ring after ring of keys. Each ring had a paper slip attached: Main Gate, Main Courtyard, Left Courtyard First Section, Left Courtyard Second Section…

The writing on the slips was Ye Ling's handwriting. Ye Ling liked signing her name with a fountain pen; probably worried the ink might smudge if it got wet, she had used a waterproof permanent marker to write them.

Wen Zhengyu looked at the characters Ye Ling had written, her thoughts drifting for a moment before she pulled them back. Listlessly, she said to the old matriarch, "Grandmother, I'm going to my room."

She carried the keys back to her room, placed the box on the table, and lay wilted on the bed.

She admitted that Ye Ling was quite admirable in certain respects. But being good at social dealings—that was all honed through interpersonal exchanges. If it were purely a transactional relationship, she would naturally be willing to deal with someone like Ye Ling: tactful, considerate, thoughtful in every way. Ye Ling had helped her, and she remembered that kindness well; she would never shortchange anyone.

But if it came to being family, what mattered wasn't the surface polish or how adept one was at socializing. No matter how dazzling the exterior, no matter how well one behaved before others, exercising restraint and reining in one's temper in public—the moment one returns home, all the pent-up frustrations get vented on the family. Flying into rages at the drop of a hat, without explaining the cause. One moment chatting and laughing warmly, the next turning cold and hostile as though severing all ties completely. A person like that, even if they were her own biological father, she'd have to cut off contact. Wen Shiyi was exactly like that—when angry, he'd just stand up and leave. If his anger hadn't subsided, he wouldn't look back even if someone died behind him. Once, when she'd argued with Wen Shiyi, her grandfather suddenly fell gravely ill. Terrified, she rushed the old man to the hospital and called Wen Shiyi. Wen Shiyi never answered, hanging up on her five or six times in a row. When she called using the old gentleman's phone and Wen Shiyi heard her voice, he hung up immediately.

At that moment, she had felt that if Wen Shiyi were angry, even if she and her grandfather were hanging by a thread, desperately calling for help, he wouldn't have paid any attention.

Would he have been willing to let her mother die? If he'd known her grandfather was ill, would he have refused to answer the phone? No.

Anger was anger; one should address the issue at hand. Her second aunt also had a fiery temper—when furious, she could tear the roof off with the old gentleman. Whatever dissatisfaction she had, whatever grievance, she laid it out directly. Even if it was through scolding or shouting, at least people knew her reasons and her objective. Arguments were arguments; once the fight was over, once the anger was vented, once all the dissatisfaction was aired, they'd sit down and talk to resolve the matter.

Wen Zhengyu's heart felt a surge of tightness. Thinking of Wen Shiyi made it tight; thinking of Ye Ling made it tight too.

Although the renovation of the Old Family Mansion and the furniture Ye Ling added had all been accounted for financially, the effort and thought invested—these were things money couldn't calculate. If it weren't for liking her, if she and Ye Ling hadn't had those ambiguous dealings before, Ye Ling wouldn't have poured so much of herself into the residence. She couldn't take advantage of Ye Ling's feelings and voluntary actions to exploit her. What should be repaid must be repaid.

But how could this be repaid?

Wen Zhengyu had no clue. She lay on the bed for a long while before finally getting up to wash up.

At noon, Wen Zhengyu squeezed out some time to go home and have lunch with Elder Wen, then handed that box of keys to the old gentleman.

Elder Wen watched as Wen Zhengyu set the small box on the table and asked, "What have you bought now?"

Wen Zhengyu said, "A residence."

Elder Wen glanced at Wen Zhengyu in surprise. Buying a residence meant, at most, bringing home a property deed—why bring home a box? He opened it and saw a box packed full of keys. What kind of residence required a box to hold the keys?

Wen Zhengyu said, "Regarding the matter with Zheng Dongsheng and Ye Che last time, Ye Ling and Brother Xin each paid half to transfer the Old Family Mansion back into my name. The transfer was completed yesterday; the property deed will take about half a month. The keys are all here. There might not be a soul in the residence right now, but such a large estate can't be left unattended. I've been very busy lately, so I can only entrust it to you, Elder. Everything is at your discretion."

Elder Wen was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "Fine. I'll go with Zhan Cheng this afternoon to take a look."

With the Old Family Mansion returned, she now faced yet another significant expense.

Wen Zhengyu transferred the intermediary and appraisal fees she had received for helping Qi Wei buy antiques via mobile banking to the old gentleman and said, "Grandfather, matters like hiring security guards, gardeners, and cleaning staff—I'll have to leave all of that to you."

Elder Wen said, "Rest easy and attend to your affairs. Don't worry about the residence." Hearing his phone alert for a text message, he took it out and saw the transfer notification. He said to Wen Zhengyu, "My funds here are sufficient. You're always out and about; there are plenty of places where you need to spend."

Wen Zhengyu said, "I'm still aware of how much income you, Elder, actually have." Dealing in antiques—buying left, selling right—unless you encountered a layperson, the most you could earn was some margin or intermediary fees. Otherwise, if you wanted to sell for a high price, you had to wait—three to five years was considered short; ten or even eighteen years wasn't long. As for selling paintings, the old gentleman couldn't follow a high-volume, low-margin route. Unless someone specifically came asking, aside from giving two or three paintings each year to be sold at the studio to supplement her household and expenses, the rest were all stored in his study, kept as a collection.

Elder Wen said, "Last time your second aunt came back, she argued with me again. I couldn't out-argue her, so I had no choice but to accept her money."

When Wen Shishu argued with people, it was always with ample justification and full confidence. When the old gentleman argued with her, nine times out of ten he lost; the remaining time was a stalemate where neither conceded to the other.

Wen Zhengyu said, "That's money Second Aunt gave you. You can't take her money to subsidize me."

Elder Wen said, "Then go tell your second aunt that yourself."

Wen Zhengyu had just recently been taken to task by her; she didn't dare.

Elder Wen fretted that she didn't have enough to spend.

Wen Zhengyu said, "You, Elder, can set your mind at ease. I now earn three salaries. The old matriarch has said she wants me to help manage the accounts for the catering company and the food enterprise and incidentally act as a supervisor. She's paying me a salary and says if profits grow, there'll be monthly bonuses too. If I do well, there'll be quarterly and annual profit-sharing as well. Although my festival gift expenses are substantial, most of the reciprocal dealings are related to the studio's operations, and they all go through the studio's accounts. My own expenses are just maintaining the car, paying the bodyguards, and a bit of daily personal spending."

Hearing Wen Zhengyu mention the old Zhang matriarch, Elder Wen could only sigh secretly. Old Madam Zhang snatching away his granddaughter—he couldn't utter a single word of reproach. Fortunately, the studio was close to home. Whenever this granddaughter of his had spare time, she'd wander back to visit him, and a casual stroll brought him to the studio in no time—he could see her every day.

Wen Zhengyu still had to deliver festival gifts in the afternoon, so after sitting with the old gentleman for a while, she left.

For several days in a row, she went to the studio but never saw Ye Ling. Only after asking the front desk did she learn that Ye Ling hadn't been coming at all.

Regarding the Ye family's affairs, news cropped up in the family group chat from time to time, and during phone calls with Wen Shishu, she would also leak bits of information to her.

Through Ye Che, his father and three uncles had all been implicated. His brothers who had financial dealings with him were likewise affected and under investigation. The Ye family's Second Branch was now a collapsing wall that everyone pushed against. The positions the old Ye patriarch had painstakingly arranged for his sons and grandsons were now coveted by others. The Ye family's industries, with the help of the two inside agents, Ye Ling and Ye Zhan, had become prime cuts on the chopping block—already fragmented and nearly entirely carved up. It wasn't just her second aunt and former uncle-in-law who had their eyes on the positions previously held by the Ye family's Second Branch; others had their sights set on them too. However, as soon as the Discipline Inspection Commission began to get involved, her second aunt received word and struck first to seize the initiative.

That morning, her second aunt had called her, quite pleased, to tell her that the matter of her former uncle-in-law had been settled, and even remarked to her, "Sometimes, you can be a little useful."

Wen Zhengyu asked if Wen Shishu would be returning for Mid-Autumn Festival.

Wen Shishu told her she was far too busy and could only return by the fourteenth day of the eighth lunar month, adding that she'd bring her cousin's family along.

The Old Family Mansion, built of wood, brick, and tile and so rich in age, feared being left vacant most of all. Add to that the high cost of maintaining the property—whether occupied or not, the expenses were the same—and after receiving the keys, Elder Wen began making arrangements for the move.

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