Chapter 86: Dispute

After sending the message, Ming Can stared at her phone screen, feeling warmth creeping up her cheeks. This was the first time she had ever sent Chi Xiao a selfie, and the longer she looked at it, the more she felt the angle wasn’t quite right, her expression not natural enough—she should have edited it before sending it. Thankfully, she hadn’t mentioned the origin of the scarf. Even if, by some one-in-a-million chance, her intuition was wrong, at least it wouldn’t be too awkward.  

Ming Can clutched her phone and sat down on a chair, tapping open Chi Xiao’s completely empty Moments—AAA Driver Chef Pet Groomer Xiao Chi—then closing it, then opening it again, repeating the motion mindlessly out of boredom.  

When is he going to reply…

Just then, the sound of a car pulling in came from outside the window. Ming Can walked over and looked down.  

In the dim twilight, she saw her father stepping out of the car. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced up toward her bedroom window. Their eyes met midair, and Ming Zheng lifted the corner of his lips in a faint smile before mouthing a silent instruction for her to come downstairs.  

Ming Can slipped her phone into her pocket and quickly left the room.  

As she descended the stairs, her phone vibrated twice softly in her pocket, but she didn’t notice. She walked straight into the first-floor living room and asked Ming Zheng, “Dad, have you eaten dinner yet?”  

“I have.” Ming Zheng handed his suit jacket to a servant, then said to Ming Can, “I heard you were home, so I bought a box of milk ice on the way back. Want some?”  

It was something she used to love back in elementary school.

Ming Can nodded quietly and sat at the dining table. She watched as the servant took out a dessert from an elegant paper box—a small snowy mountain of creamy milk ice, topped with miniature croissants and fresh strawberries. Picking up a spoon, she scooped a bite and let it melt in her mouth, her eyes fixed on Ming Zheng as he sat down beside her and asked the servant to brew a cup of fruit tea.  

Ming Can asked, “Did you drink tonight?”  

“A little.” Ming Zheng often drank fruit tea to sober up after alcohol. When the servant brought the tea, he took a sip from the cup, then silently watched Ming Can eat her dessert for a long while without speaking.  

The atmosphere made Ming Can slightly uncomfortable. She set down her spoon and asked bluntly, “Dad, do you have something to tell me?”  

Ming Zheng seemed hesitant, as if struggling to find the right words. Ming Can couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted to discuss.  

Maybe he would bring up finding her a stepmother—if so, she could take the opportunity to ask whether he had reconnected with Jiang Yichu.  

Or perhaps it was about the arranged marriage.  

Back when the plan was for her to marry Chi Yao, Ming Zheng had frequently asked how things were going between them. But now that the prospective groom had changed to Chi Xiao, he had become much more reserved, hardly mentioning the matter at all recently.  

Ming Zheng took another sip of tea, his expression still uncertain.  

Finally, he spoke: “Cancan, you remember Chi Xiao, President Chi’s son, whom I mentioned to you before?”  

“Of course,” Ming Can said. “Not only do I remember, I’m actually quite close with Senior Chi Xiao. If you have questions, just ask directly.”  

“Oh?” Ming Zheng looked surprised, though it quickly made sense to him. “You’re both top students. Compared to Chi Yao, you and Chi Xiao probably have more in common.”  

Ming Can thought to herself, More than just ‘in common’—we even have a child together.

“Senior Chi Xiao isn’t just good at studying,” Ming Can said, savoring the sweetness of the shaved ice in her mouth. After some thought, she decided not to hide her fondness. “He’s also good-looking, has a great personality… basically, everything about him is great.”  

Even with her usual boldness, saying such things in front of her father made her cheeks burn. She slowly lowered her head, nibbling at her dessert like a shy little squirrel.  

Ming Zheng had never heard his daughter praise a guy like this before. A complicated feeling welled up inside him. “So… you like him?”  

Ming Can: “Mhm.”  

Leaning back in his chair, Ming Zheng studied his daughter silently for a moment before suddenly saying, “In that case, how about getting married right after graduation?”  

Ming Can froze.  

This was only the second time her father had brought up Chi Xiao. Before, he had always been indirect—now, out of nowhere, he was talking about marriage? It was way too sudden.  

Her brows furrowed instinctively. “I still have grad school. At the very least, marriage shouldn’t even be considered until after I finish my master’s.”  

Ming Zheng: “You could get married first, then go to grad school.”  

Ming Can’s gaze turned guarded, her voice dropping low. “Is this your idea, or the Chi family’s?”  

Even before asking, she already knew the answer.  

When it came to arranged marriages, Ming Zheng had always told her, “There’s no rush,” or “You’re still young.” He had never once pressured her about marriage.  

What good could possibly come from a girl jumping into marriage before she’d even finished her education?

The only ones who stood to gain were the groom’s family—plucking her like unripe fruit and pinning her down to domestic life before she could fully blossom.  

Ming Can had thought this conversation couldn’t possibly anger her more. She was wrong. The worst was yet to come.  

Now that the floodgates had opened, Ming Zheng poured out everything weighing on his mind.  

“Cancan, the Chi family hopes you’ll join their charitable foundation after marriage to oversee philanthropic work,” Ming Zheng said. “Since you studied finance, it aligns well with your expertise.”  

A dull roar filled Ming Can’s ears. She recognized every word her father said, yet their meaning eluded her. “Xingchi Group’s charitable foundation? What even is that?”  

Her tone dripped with disdain, as if discussing trash on the ground.  

It wasn’t that she looked down on charitable foundations—nearly every major corporation eventually ventured into philanthropy, and some elite families boasted foundations rivaling large financial institutions. But this was the first Ming Can had heard of the Chi family having one. It must be some newly established, small-scale operation—insignificant, obscure, likely not even one-tenth the size of the Ming family’s own foundation. Ming Can aspired to lead the Ming empire. Now they wanted her to play charity manager for the Chis? Was this a joke?  

The thought actually made her laugh, though her eyes remained icy. She fixed her father with a glare so intense it drew sweat down his back before he could continue.  

“Precisely because it’s in its early stages, it needs someone to manage and grow it,” Ming Zheng said, subtly avoiding his daughter’s blade-sharp gaze. “Additionally, the Chi family prefers that after marriage, you… refrain from involving yourself in the Ming family’s affairs unless necessary.”  

At this, Ming Can shot to her feet, her face flushed with fury. “Dad, what are you saying? Do I stop being a Ming the moment I marry? Am I just supposed to devote myself entirely to the Chi family? Then why bother with education at all? I might as well roll up my sleeves and play housewife right now!”

“Calm down,” Ming Zheng stood as well, placing a steadying hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “They just don’t want you to overexert yourself.”  

Ming Can let out a cold laugh. “So they’d be happy seeing me idle away my days after marriage?”  

Ming Zheng: “You can still pursue your passions—like the violin…”  

“I’ve quit playing!” Ming Can’s fists clenched. “I stopped liking the violin long ago!”  

Ming Zheng frowned. “But you were practicing daily during the New Year holidays?”  

“That was because—” Ming Can’s voice caught.  

She knew she’d just lied. She hadn’t stopped loving the violin—she never could. It was the pressure that suffocated her. Everyone kept pushing her, trying to permanently brand her as “the violinist,” as if she couldn’t possibly have other talents or ambitions like conquering the corporate world just as men did. That was why she’d forced herself to abandon it.  

And then, the person she loved had unexpectedly gifted her a handcrafted violin, reawakening her buried passion for music. Yet here she was again, cornered by expectations, lashing out at the very art she cherished…  

Why must she be manipulated like a puppet? Why couldn’t she have fairness and freedom? If marriage meant chains, then why marry at all?  

“Cancan,” Ming Zheng sighed, pained by his daughter’s distress. “At least think it over carefully. We can discuss any concerns you—”  

“I don’t need to think.”  

Ming Can drew a sharp breath, her words frost-edged:  

“My answer is this—we’re mismatched. Let’s call off this arranged marriage.”  

A pause. Her dark eyes locked onto Ming Zheng’s conflicted expression, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “What did Chi Xiao’s father promise you? Some business collaboration? Is that why you’re obeying him so meekly, completely disregarding my feelings?”  

Ming Zheng’s brow furrowed tightly, at a loss for how to respond.  

“Never mind, I don’t want to hear it anyway.” Ming Can took a deep breath. “It’s not like your collaboration will happen now.”  

She withdrew her gaze, refusing to spare another glance at the man who shared her blood, and turned away resolutely.  

As she climbed the stairs, the house felt eerily airless despite closed windows and doors. A phantom wind seemed to howl through her bones, leaving her limbs numb and fingertips devoid of sensation.  

Outside, the night pressed heavily—thick clouds smothered the sky, blotting out every trace of starlight.  

She’d thought the worst outcome of this homecoming would be hearing her father was dating Jiang Yichu. How naive she’d been. The real surprise had been lying in wait all along.  

Reaching the second floor at last, Ming Can gripped the banister as sudden clarity struck. Now she understood why her relationship with Chi Xiao had been so strained in that other timeline.  

What she’d heard tonight didn’t just cross her boundaries—it gutted them completely, stuffing the hollowed space with filth.  

Ming Can knew herself well.  

In that other timeline, before she’d ever grown fond of Chi Xiao, had she endured these same revelations…  

Liking him would have been impossible.  

She would have spent a lifetime avoiding him.  

Praying he’d stay far from her life.  

Never, never again disturbing her peace.