Chapter 9

Li Wangjin sat across from He Ming, his tone deepening, “Have you completed that piece, ‘Frozen River Snow’?”

“Frozen River Snow” was Xu Fangweng’s most famous painting, rumored to have been bought by a mysterious billionaire for a staggering 560 million a decade ago. A tycoon from Hong Kong had once offered a billion but ultimately failed to acquire it.

He had rushed over after receiving this news, putting aside company affairs. Over the years, he and He Ming had collaborated many times, but never on such a grand scale.

He Ming nodded slightly. “It’ll be finished in a few days. Are you buying? If not, I’ll sell it to others. Several people have already approached me for commissions.”

Aside from helping Li Wangjin launder money through paintings, He Ming occasionally sold his own works for extra income.

Li Wangjin straightened up. Previously, the most he’d taken from company funds at once was tens of millions, accumulating gradually. But ten billion at once… He wasn’t sure Jun Rong would agree.

Recalling how cold Jun Rong had grown toward him lately—and her recent attempt to place her nephew in the company—he realized she was becoming restless, trying to seize control. Determination flashed through him. “Besides ‘Frozen River Snow,’ do you have other works? Let’s make it fifteen billion on the books.”

His trust in He Ming stemmed from one thing: He Ming’s only son was in his hands, and He Ming cherished the boy deeply. With a shareholder looking to sell their stake, this money could secure those shares, ensuring his control over Jun Rong.

He Ming hesitated. “I’ll try.”

Fifteen billion. According to that person, if things went smoothly, not only would he and his son be sent abroad, but he’d also receive ten million. Compared to Li Wangjin, that client was far more generous. After all these years painting for Li Wangjin, he’d only earned a few million. And…

He thought of his friend, who had also painted for Li Wangjin before vanishing without a trace. He didn’t want to end up like that.

A faint smile crossed Li Wangjin’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll enroll your son in the best school and arrange for him to study abroad later.”

He Ming bowed his head, voice thick with gratitude. “I leave it to you, then.”

Under the table, his hands clenched into fists.

Suddenly, he looked up. “By the way, a friend of mine saw someone who looked like Wen Sier overseas. He visited me recently for tea and recognized her from my paintings.”

Li Wangjin had once provided photos of Wen Sier for He Ming to paint multiple portraits, so He Ming was familiar with her features.

Li Wangjin’s eyes widened in shock, his face twitching grotesquely. “Is that true? How?” Then, as if remembering something, he asked, “Where is she?”

“In Country R.”

Ah—Sier had a twin sister who had gone abroad years ago. It must be her.

“How is she doing?” He sighed softly. After all, she was Sier’s sister. Before Sier passed, aside from Yage, she had worried most about her. If he could help in some way…

He Ming said, “She’s my friend’s neighbor and hasn’t had an easy life. It’s said her husband not only accumulated huge debts but also cheated on her. She went through a lot to get a divorce. Because she’s quite pretty and lives alone, she often gets bullied by the locals.”

Hearing this, Li Wangjin grew increasingly uneasy. He said earnestly, “Give me her address. I’ll send someone to fetch her.”

For Sier’s sake, perhaps he could keep her under his watch and offer some care.

He Ming took out a slip of paper and handed it to Li Wangjin.

After accepting the note, Li Wangjin added, “Starting today, the price for each of your paintings will increase from fifty thousand to sixty thousand.”

His tone carried a condescending air, just as it always had—lofty and superior.

“Thank you, President Li.”

…

Li Wangjin quickly arranged for Wen Sier’s younger sister, Wen Sixian, to be brought back. Country R was only a few hours’ flight from City S, so by the next day, he had already met Wen Sixian.

As expected of twins, Wen Sixian bore a striking resemblance to Wen Sier. Seeing her gave him the uncanny feeling that Wen Sier had come back to life.

Upon meeting him, Wen Sixian burst into tears and immediately embraced him.

Li Wangjin felt somewhat awkward and instinctively wanted to push her away. But when her tears fell onto his neck, they felt scalding, as though they had dripped straight into his heart. In the end, he didn’t push her away. Instead, he gently patted her back.

“It’s alright. You’re back now. I’ll protect you in your sister’s place.”

“You can think of me as your brother.”

“Thank you… really, thank you so much.” Wen Sixian’s breath brushed against his neck, sending an itch through him that was hard to ignore.

She poured out her hardships over the years, a tale so heartbreaking it could move anyone to tears. The suffering she described was even worse than what He Ming had mentioned. Wen Sixian’s husband not only gambled and cheated but also abused her. He had even beaten her so badly that she miscarried twice.

“Why didn’t you divorce him sooner?” Li Wangjin blurted out. Wen Sixian’s tearful face, so much like her sister’s, made it impossible for him to remain indifferent.

Wen Sixian seemed to hesitate over something unspeakable, biting her lower lip and refusing to answer.

Li Wangjin didn’t press her. He led Wen Sixian to a three-bedroom apartment. The driver was Lao Sun, who had worked for him for many years and was tight-lipped—he wouldn’t breathe a word even to his wife. Li Wangjin trusted him completely.

He and Wen Sixian sat together in the back seat.

When they arrived at their destination, Wen Sixian’s wallet fell out as she stepped out of the car. The clasp wasn’t fastened properly, and it splayed open. Li Wangjin bent down to pick it up for her and froze when he saw the photos inside.

The wallet held two pictures side by side. One was of Li Wangjin in his youth—handsome and scholarly, standing under a tree with a lab report in his arms.

The other was of Wen Sixian and a man. The man bore a faint resemblance to Li Wangjin.

Wen Sixian hastily snatched the wallet back, turning her head away, her neck flushing red—whether from the heat or something else, it was hard to tell.

“Is this your husband?”

Wen Sixian’s voice was very soft. “…Yes.”

Li Wangjin was no fool, especially when it came to matters like this. The two photos hinted at a truth he couldn’t ignore…

No wonder, no wonder she was unwilling to divorce at first.

Thinking of that speculation, he couldn’t help but look at her with complicated emotions.

Li Wangjin returned home with an uncharacteristically light and cheerful step. Today, he felt an illusion of returning to his youth, that dreamlike sensation like fine wine, making him unconsciously intoxicated.

Upon entering, he saw his wife Fang Junrong sitting on the sofa with their other adopted daughter Zhong Yi, flipping through a catalog. Although Zhong Yi had been home for several days, she mostly stayed in her room with little presence, and Li Wangjin often forgot he had another adopted daughter besides Yage.

“Looking at the latest magazine?” He glanced over—it seemed to be about fashion.

Fang Junrong looked up, lips curving. “I’m letting Zhong Yi pick out some dresses she likes. Once the samples arrive, she can try them on for adjustments.”

Li Wangjin instinctively thought of Jiang Yage. “Is Yage not home? Didn’t you ask her?” He said jokingly, “Though I know you prefer Zhong Yi, both are our children. You should treat them equally—no favoritism.”

His impression of Zhong Yi wasn’t good, perhaps because their first meeting had embarrassed him in front of Yage. Added to that, Zhong Yi seemed closer to his wife while keeping a distant attitude toward him, which only deepened his dislike.

Fang Junrong inwardly scoffed: Li Wangjin was the last person qualified to say such things.

Her smile remained flawless, her tone meaningful. “Yage isn’t quite suitable to join us.”

“Why not?” Seeing his wife deliberately excluding Yage, Li Wangjin felt this couldn’t be left unresolved.

Fang Junrong replied leisurely, “I plan to introduce Zhong Yi at Xinyun’s birthday banquet, so of course she needs to dress well that day.”

“Doesn’t Yage need that too?”

Fang Junrong chuckled softly, as if amused by his naivety. That look—as if he were a fool—made Li Wangjin deeply uncomfortable.

“Don’t you remember? That day is the anniversary of Yage’s parents’ death. It’s barely been a year. She should observe mourning for her birth parents—hardly appropriate for celebrations.”

“What if she becomes overwhelmed by grief? So I’ve decided she should stay elsewhere those days. I’m considering her feelings.” She threw his own past words back in his face.

Li Wangjin’s face flushed red, then turned ashen. Yet Fang Junrong had used his own reasoning against him—to refute it would be self-contradiction.

He could only force an awkward smile. “I nearly forgot. You’re so thoughtful.”

Turning to Zhong Yi, he added, “Pick as many as you like. We can buy them all if needed.”

Zhong Yi looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you, Godfather.” Then she lowered her head again, continuing to browse the magazine.

Watching them discuss which gown styles looked best, Li Wangjin felt some regret for Yage. Xinyun’s birthday would have been the perfect occasion to introduce Yage’s status to their many guests. Now they’d have to proceed gradually.

His dampened mood lifted again as he thought of Wen Sixian. She had returned to the country—perhaps she could meet Yage more often to comfort her.