Chapter 97: The Little Matter of My Father Actually Being a Hidden Big Shot (Part 7)

Because that group of people had suggested that maybe her brother would come to like her if they were no longer siblings, that their familial bond could turn into romantic love—a hypothesis that clearly intrigued Meng Yuan as well.

Tan Yuanyuan, who had originally intended to refuse, found herself unable to say no when she caught Meng Yuan’s interested glance. Yet in her heart, she truly hoped Qin Yancheng would not come.

Unfortunately, the silly elk, with a goofy grin reminiscent of the landlord’s simpleminded son, walked toward her in quick, cheerful strides. He was utterly oblivious to anything amiss.

Yuanyuan glanced back over her shoulder. Of course, she could not see Meng Yuan anywhere, yet she felt as if she could sense those clear, enchanting eyes watching her.

“Mom and Dad keep wondering why you haven’t come home to see them.”

Qin Yancheng had already sensed something was off. The boys and girls behind Yuanyuan were all looking at him with mocking, almost voyeuristic eyes, as if he were a monkey in a cage.

He wasn’t truly a fool; he could sense the malice in their laughter.

Yet the reason he didn’t just leave was because he wanted to find out whether Yuanyuan really had no choice in not calling home, or whether she simply no longer wished to have any contact with them.

If it was the former, Yancheng would never give up on his little sister. But if it was the latter, no matter how deep his affection, he would not disturb her again.

“I…”

“How could Miss Tan possibly call you? She hates you all. If she hadn’t been switched at birth, Miss Tan wouldn’t have grown up in a common family. All that wealth, all those luxuries were enjoyed by a thief who took her place. If it were you, would you still miss the thief’s family?”

A boy with a sapphire earring and hair dyed white spoke with a lazy arrogance. After speaking, he looked Qin Yancheng up and down, clicking his tongue twice.

“No wonder no one in the Tan family noticed anything wrong all these years. To be fair, that little thief who took over the nest really does look as beautiful as a noble swan princess.”

Qin Yancheng’s expression darkened. “Watch your mouth.”

“Oh? Upset, are you? But I don’t see how I was disrespectful.”

“The children were switched by mistake—nobody wanted this. You call a helpless baby a thief? Isn’t that a bit much? If our family had been malicious, and deliberately swapped the babies after seeing how wealthy Mrs. Tan was, then fine—call us thieves. But that’s not what happened. So perhaps you should learn the truth before you spout nonsense in public.”

Qin Yancheng believed he was being civil. Yet the boy’s face immediately clouded over.

He turned to Yuanyuan. “Miss, I’m giving you face, but he seems to have a problem with me.”

He was Meng Yuan’s lackey; wherever Meng Yuan appeared, he was there too. Yuanyuan didn’t want him to think ill of her, so she turned and looked pleadingly at Qin Yancheng.

“Brother, please don’t.”

Qin Yancheng paused, ultimately saying nothing more, though disappointment lingered in his heart.

“Alright, so why did you call me here?” he asked, composing himself.

If Yuanyuan said there was nothing, he would leave. After all, they no longer belonged to the same world.

He found the white-haired boy incredibly irritating, and it was mutual—the boy glared at him with open hostility.

Were it not for worrying about Yuanyuan being caught in the middle, even if they came to blows outnumbered as he was, Yancheng would not have backed down in the slightest. Even now, though he walked with difficulty, what of it? If they wanted a fight, so be it—win and end up in the station, lose and end up in the hospital.

After all, his father bragged to the heavens, boasting about shaking hands with important people and being praised as a once-in-a-generation genius. Surely, as his son, if he got into a brawl with a scion of some powerful family, his father would have ways to sort it out… right?

The boy’s gaze was threatening, but remembering his true aim—to watch the show—he restrained himself for now. His friends tugged at him, whispering, “What’s the rush? Watch the drama first. When he leaves, just catch him off guard—worst case, pay a bit for medical expenses.”

Yuanyuan bit her lip, then finally said, “I… I don’t really have anything. I just called you. If you have something to do, you can leave.”

The boy immediately grew annoyed. “Tan Yuanyuan, are you messing with us?”

Qin Yancheng frowned and moved to shield Yuanyuan behind him.

“Heh, fine. If you and this pauper want to leave together, go ahead. But don’t dream of ever seeing Brother Meng again, or being accepted by us.”

Yancheng almost laughed. As if he was the one begging to be accepted.

He grabbed Yuanyuan’s hand. “Let’s go, Yuanyuan.”

He pulled, but she didn’t budge.

Puzzled, he turned around. “Yuanyuan?”

“Brother, just go. It’s my fault—I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. When you get home, tell Mom and Dad to move away.”

Qin Yancheng: ???

She shook off his hand and returned to the boys. The white-haired boy smirked, his eyes resuming their mocking glint as he stared at Yancheng.

Yancheng was at a loss. “Why? They clearly mean you no good. They’re just toying with you—can’t you see that?”

“You wouldn’t understand. Just go. Tell Mom and Dad to move far away—the farther, the better.”

Yancheng’s laugh was hollow, edged with bitterness. His lips curled into a sneer that faded into a cold, distant look.

“So, from now on, you’ll be their Miss Tan, not Qin Yuanyuan?”

“I was never a Qin.”

“I see.”

Without another glance at her, Yancheng turned and left.

The boy arched a brow, as if struck by a sudden idea. After saying a word to his friends, he ran off to fetch his sports car.

Yancheng, worried that hobbling on a cane would embarrass Yuanyuan in front of her friends, had hidden his cane in a bush some distance away. Now he felt like a fool.

He forced himself to walk steadily until out of sight, then resumed his limp and retrieved his cane.

His father had told him that if he nursed his injury well, it would heal without lasting effects, and he’d be as good as new. But he had to be careful, not reckless.

Surely, just this brief exertion hadn’t damaged the still-healing bone?

Still pondering, he was startled by a sudden honk.

He was puzzled—this was a pedestrian walkway in a remote suburb. There were hardly any people, let alone cars.

But before he could react, a bright red sports car abruptly swerved, speeding straight toward him.

Murder!

In a moment of adrenaline, Yancheng vaulted aside with his cane, narrowly avoiding the car.

“Brother!”

In a daze, he thought he heard his little sister’s cry.

Though Yuanyuan had lost her way, her nature was still kind; she still cared about her family.

This gave Yancheng some comfort.

“What are you doing? Are you insane? You tried to kill my brother!”

Yuanyuan, frantic, grabbed the white-haired boy—who emerged unscathed thanks to the airbag and his own precautions—and shouted in fury.

“What’s the rush? The real test begins now. You like Brother Meng, don’t you? This is his car. Choose: have Meng Yuan arrested, or testify that your brother staged it and caused the accident.”

Yuanyuan’s eyes widened.

“Think carefully. You know well enough your adoptive family’s situation. I’ll be honest—if you don’t testify, nothing will happen to Brother Meng. But the Meng family will never forgive anyone who stains their heir’s name. So, will you let your adoptive family be ruined, or perjure yourself, protect them, and gain Meng Yuan’s favor? You’re smart—you know what to choose, right?”

The white-haired boy felt no guilt for his actions. He had just returned from abroad, where among the wealthy second generation, there was a notorious game: they would target foreign students whose families had scraped together everything for an overseas education, hunt them down in deserted places, and beat or run them over until they were unrecognizable.

Thousands of miles from home, with no one the wiser, it would become just another unsolved case.

Before returning home, the white-haired boy had been one of the wildest players, with several deaths or injuries to his name. Only when the police launched a major investigation did he return home to lay low.

Yuanyuan, in the end, was just an innocent girl, sheltered by her parents, suddenly thrust into a world of luxury and decadence. Bombarded by hormones and the romantic fantasy that youth must be a little crazy for love, she willingly became a humble devotee.

Now, blindsided and threatened by the white-haired boy, she panicked, lost and helpless, not knowing what to do—her first instinct, even now, was to seek help from Meng Yuan.

As the white-haired boy relished the thrill of his twisted game, a sudden alarm went off at Qin Ye’s home.

At this critical moment, Qin Ye immediately dropped what he was doing and took off his work coat.

“What’s happened?”

“Someone made a move against my son.”

“—What?”

Qin Ye’s colleague was stunned, then all at once turned solemn. “Don’t panic—I’ll notify everyone. Don’t worry, your son will be alright.”