Chapter 018: The Quarrel

Meng Yanchen sat in his office, long fingers idly toying with the golden strings of the marionette.

The puppet jerked with every movement, casting a swaying shadow under the afternoon sun.

The office door suddenly swung open.

“Brother, are you busy?” Xu Qin’s voice drifted in.

Meng Yanchen’s hand was stilled. The puppet instantly collapsed onto the desk, limp and lifeless.

He lifted his gaze. Xu Qin stood at the door in a pale dress, wearing the same familiar smile, a little sweet, a little ingratiating.

“Something wrong?” His tone was flat.

Song Yan had already soothed her. They were compatible in bed, so it was easy to quarrel at the head of the bed and make up at the foot.

But last night, Meng Yanchen didn’t reply to Xu Qin’s message. So, this afternoon, she’d come in person.

Last time at home, she had once again clearly defined their relationship as “siblings.”

But a line that’s been let loose always needs to be tightened again.

No one would wait forever for a future without hope.

More importantly, during her spat with the family last time, she had returned her car keys. Yet after all this time, no one had sent them back.

She was sick of squeezing into the subway and transferring to buses every day.

More than once she overslept and missed her stop. Sometimes she even had to endure the stink of body odor lingering nearby.

She missed her Audi.

But she couldn’t just open her mouth and ask Fu Wenying for it back—that would be losing face. And worse, Fu Wenying might seize the chance to lecture her again, even force her to break up with Song Yan.

From a distance, Xu Qin saw Meng Yanchen fiddling with something. To her knowledge, apart from his obsession with butterfly specimens, he never touched anything else.

Walking closer, she finally saw what it was—a marionette.

Her lips curved knowingly.

“When did you start playing with that?”

She reached out to touch it, but Meng Yanchen shifted it away without a trace.

“Bought it yesterday.” His reply was curt.

Warmth spread in Xu Qin’s heart.

How many times had she complained in front of him that they were all like puppets bound by family strings, without freedom?

Yesterday…

He must have missed her too much, so he bought it.

He hadn’t replied to her messages, most likely still sulking—but he hadn’t the heart to refuse her request, so he had Qin Yu deliver the cake instead.

“Brother…”

Her voice softened. “You didn’t reply to me yesterday. I worried all night.”

Meng Yanchen’s fingers paused.

Once upon a time, hearing that would have made him glad.

But now, suddenly, he felt exactly like the puppet in his hand—strings pulled by Xu Qin.

He didn’t even look up. “I was busy.”

“Brother~”

Xu Qin reached for the marionette. “I finally came to see you at noon, can’t you stop fiddling with this? Look at me. Haven’t we already been puppets in the Meng family long enough?”

Meng Yanchen’s fingers tightened sharply. The strings bit deep into his knuckles.

“Xu Qin.”

It was the first time he’d called her by her full name. “Ask yourself—Mother may be strict, but has she ever denied you the best? Each piano lesson cost eight thousand, and she never even blinked. You wanted to study medicine, and though she opposed it, she still pulled strings overnight to get you into med school.”

His gaze lifted, ice cold behind the lenses. “Even when you and Song Yan did that shameful thing in the bathroom, she was the first to clean up after you.”

“She could have ignored you—let you be punished by the school, let the world mock you!”

“Brother!”

Xu Qin’s face turned stark white. “How could you—”

Her lips trembled violently.

Never had Meng Yanchen stood against her like this, speaking of that scandal in such a cold voice.

“I’m not saying Mother is bad, I just—I just…”

“Just what?”

Meng Yanchen cut her off. “What did you come for today? Out of money again?”

The words landed like a slap.

“In your heart, am I only ever here to ask for money—or favors?” Her voice shook.

“Isn’t that the truth?”

His eyes bored into her, cold as ice behind the glass.

“Your car keys? Living expenses? Or do you need me or Mother to wipe up another mess for you?”

Xu Qin’s eyes brimmed with tears.

She grabbed her bag and bolted, slamming into Qin Yu at the door, who was holding documents.

“Tell my brother—”

Her voice cracked with sobs. “I’ll never speak to him again!”

Qin Yu blinked, dumbfounded. I didn’t even ask…

Still, ever dutiful, he blurted, “But… isn’t Meng always right there in his office?”

Xu Qin glared at him as if he were an idiot, stomped hard, and ran off crying.

Qin Yu scratched his head, stepped inside, and gave a little wave. Before he could speak, Meng Yanchen said flatly—

“I’m not blind.”

Qin Yu jolted. “Ah, President Meng, you’re here! For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating.”

He hesitated. “By the way, Miss just said—”

“I’m not deaf.” Meng Yanchen didn’t look up.

He opened a drawer and carefully placed the marionette inside.

“What is it?”

Qin Yu quickly presented the folder. “President Meng, the evaluation report from the New Energy Investment Roadshow is ready.”

Meng Yanchen flipped it open, his gaze pausing briefly at Yongkang Chemical – Chen Jiakang.

“What’s the assessment of Yongkang?” His voice was calm, almost casual.

“Strong technical team, top three market potential.” Qin Yu pointed to the page. “Risk control rated them A-. Recommended as a priority.”

Meng Yanchen shut the file. “Schedule a meeting with him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Qin Yu checked his watch. “Also, the West Coast Gallery ribbon-cutting is at three. We should head out.”

Meng Yanchen slipped into his suit jacket. “Let’s go.”

Traffic crawled along. Meng Yanchen gazed idly out the window.

“President Meng, ahead is Ocean Park. Weekend crowd’s heavier, but if I turn left here, we’ll arrive before three.” Qin Yu explained.

But Meng Yanchen’s eyes had already fixed on a figure at the roadside.

Fan Shengmei.

The breeze lifted strands of her hair, and sunlight painted her profile with a gentle glow.

She was looking down at her phone, a faint smile on her lips.

For a fleeting moment, Meng Yanchen’s own lips curved.

Then, a little girl—four, maybe five—came bounding into her arms.

“Mommy!”

Chen Jiakang followed close behind a child’s water bottle in hand as he naturally took Fan Shengmei’s bag.

Meng Yanchen’s gaze darkened instantly. His fingers were clenched, and the window slid shut with a click.

“Inform Yongkang Chemical—”

His voice was glacial. “The meeting’s off.”

Qin Yu froze. “But they’re ranked in the top three… and they’ve already been notified—”

“I said,” Meng Yanchen’s eyes gleamed with a cold, cutting light, “no meeting.”