Falling into the Capital's Radiance - Chapter 3

It was the first time Zhao Siyuan had ever seen his uncle so furious.

His head had been struck, leaving a gash. Blood trickled down his temple, the pain making him grimace, but he didn’t even dare to cry out in agony.

The tablet in his hand had long since fallen to the ground; he had no mind to care about any beauties now.

He hurriedly knelt, his voice trembling, “U-uncle, I don’t know her.”

Zhao Zonglan lowered his gaze, calmly smoking his cigarette. “Then what’s the story with the Song Brocade?”

Song Brocade?

Zhao Siyuan racked his brain for a few seconds before answering honestly, “I-I had my assistant buy a batch of Song Brocade from Suzhou some time ago and gave it to Third Sister. She’s been researching some traditional Chinese clothing lately.”

The Zhao Family had many descendants. The Third Sister he mentioned was Zhao Luoxi, daughter of Zhao Zonglan’s fourth brother.

Zhao Luoxi loved traditional Chinese style. In her spare time, she filmed short videos and had amassed a large following. She enjoyed designing clothes and jewelry for fun, and the family doted on her.

Zhao Siyuan couldn’t understand-was there something wrong with this batch of Song Brocade?

Why would it warrant his uncle’s personal inquiry?

It was just a few bolts of intangible cultural heritage Song Brocade. Rare, yes, but not particularly valuable.

“Uncle, I really don’t know the person in the video, nor do I know why she came looking for me.”

Second Young Master Zhao felt that today was truly his unlucky day.

He hadn’t come to accompany anyone because he was feeling unwell, still hooked up to an IV drip at the hospital, when Chang An called him over.

And now his head had been smashed by his uncle.

The girl in the video was beautiful, yes, but her fate clearly clashed with his.

Zhao Zonglan stood up, smoking by the window.

It was snowing.

Tiny snowflakes fluttered down, landing on lanterns and railings, quickly melting into water.

It seemed to be the first snow of the year.

His eyes were cold and clear as he gave a deep command, “Chang An, send Second Young Master back to Shanghai.”

Zhao Siyuan shivered unexpectedly.

He’d previously been sent to the Shanghai branch by his uncle for lacking ambition, but had performed well recently and had only just been transferred back a couple of days ago-now he was being sent away again.

Most importantly, he felt he hadn’t done anything wrong this time. This was pure misfortune.

Tyrant!

His uncle was truly a moody tyrant.

–

Shen Jingni hurried out of Wangjing Tower, wearing only a qipao, shivering from the cold.

The snowflakes stung her skin with their icy chill.

Her car was parked far away, so she had to walk over, calling Song Yu as she went, “You said the Zhao at Wangjing Tower wasn’t Zhao Siyuan-then who was he?”

Perhaps it was too cold; Song Yu’s voice trembled unconsciously, “Zhao-Zhao Zonglan.”

Shen Jingni’s hand holding the phone suddenly froze.

The cold wind whipped against her thin body.

On the other end, Song Yu apologized, “Sorry, Jingni, I didn’t know Zhao Siyuan wouldn’t be there today…”

But now, it wasn’t about Zhao Siyuan anymore.

Shen Jingni let out a heavy sigh.

Her luck was truly terrible.

The person she’d provoked turned out to be that Buddha.

When she first inquired about the Zhao Family, the first name she heard was the family head, Zhao Zonglan.

Rumor had it that he took over the Zhao Family eight years ago, ruthless in his methods, wielding immense power, and was a top international capitalist.

To establish authority in a century-old family and manage such a vast capital group-saying he could cover the sky with one hand and rival nations in wealth was no exaggeration.

No wonder, just one visit to Wangjing Tower could alarm so many in both political and business circles.

Shen Jingni was chilled to the bone. She hung up, sniffing.

Only then did she remember-her hairpin was left in Zhao Zonglan’s lounge.

It was a keepsake from her grandmother before she passed. Not especially valuable, but she had to get it back.

That night, Shen Jingni fell ill after returning home.

She ran a high fever and coughed badly.

Father Shen and Mother Shen were terribly frightened.

The doctor came and said she’d caught a chill, the cold had reached her lungs, and with her recent lack of rest, her resistance was low. She needed proper care.

Mother Xu Ningwan tugged Shen Zhuoyuan’s ear, scolding him, “Shen Zhuoyuan, you’re really a heartless father.”
“Miaomiao has always been frail since she was a child, but you insisted on letting her go out and struggle in business. Now look, she’s completely worn out!”

“Are you trying to anger me to death, and then go off to find some young, pretty woman to remarry?”

Shen Zhuoyuan’s ears were pinched red, and he pleaded repeatedly, “Aiyo, be gentle, be gentle! How could I have such thoughts, wife?”

“She’s my own daughter. How could I not feel for her?”

Summoning his courage, he muttered in a low voice, “Besides, when Miaomiao cried and begged to start her own business, you didn’t stop her either.”

So in the end, all the blame falls on him alone.

“Still arguing?” Xu Ningwan tightened her grip, making Shen Zhuoyuan gasp from the pain.

“I wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare.”

“Wife, let’s talk it out, don’t disturb our daughter’s rest.”

Only then did Xu Ningwan release him.

The Shen Family came to Jing City twenty-one years ago.

The Shen Family’s roots were in Hangzhou, once considered wealthy and prosperous, but too many incompetent descendants meant that by Shen Zhuoyuan’s generation, life was a bit of a struggle.

The year Xu Ningwan was pregnant with Shen Jingni was the most difficult for the Shen Family; they suffered through many hardships then.

Fortunately, Shen Zhuoyuan was capable, and after Shen Jingni was born, things began to look up and the whole family moved to Jing City.

Perhaps because Xu Ningwan hadn’t had enough rest or nutrition during her pregnancy, Shen Jingni was weak and often sick from a young age.

The old lady invited a highly respected master to read her fortune.

He said Miss Shen’s five elements lacked water.

So, her nickname became Miaomiao.

Both Shen Zhuoyuan and Xu Ningwan felt indebted to their youngest daughter, especially Xu Ningwan, so they always gave her the very best, doted on her, and took great care not to let her suffer any bumps or bruises.

Shen Jingni had a weak stomach, so Xu Ningwan hired a specialist to adjust her diet every week and prepare medicinal meals.

She wanted to start her own business. Although her family didn’t want her to endure hardship, in the end they didn’t stop her, thinking she would back off after experiencing difficulties.

Who could have guessed the girl would be so stubborn, insisting on handling everything herself.

The snow had been falling for two days straight.

White covered the brick and red walls of Jing City’s wealthy estates.

Plum branches were weighed down by snow, with only a touch of bright red remaining, adding a spark of vitality.

Fenghua Palace.

The grandest Money Pit in Jing City.

Luxuriously and elegantly decorated, it boasted beautiful scenery, stunning women, and exquisite cuisine-everything imaginable. Construction alone cost billions. Naturally, the consumption here was sky-high.

Its patrons were all scions of wealthy families.

In the ancient pavilion in the courtyard, attendants in apricot-colored new-style Chinese jackets served tea and fruit platters one by one.

Male attendants in navy uniforms tended carefully to the heaters.

Today, Fenghua Palace’s host, Xie Chengsui-Third Master Xie-had arranged a gathering, inviting a few friends to enjoy the snow and watch the dances.

Zhao Zonglan and Song Yanting arrived at the same time.

Song Yanting sat down, accepted the warm tea from his assistant Nan Feng, took a gentle sip, and spoke in a warm tone, “I heard you lost your temper at Wangjing Tower the other day?”

Zhao Zonglan said nothing, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

Chang An, who stood behind him, understood, flicked open a silver lighter, and bent over to light the cigarette for him.

Song Yanting’s eyes carried a faint smile as he set his teacup down. “I also heard that the one who barged into your room that night was one of the top beauties in Jing City, surnamed Shen.”

Zhao Zonglan smoked lazily, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re quite well-informed.”

Then again, it was no surprise Song Yanting knew.

Among people like them, unless one took special care to hide something, there were no secrets.

Song Yanting looked at the stage rising slowly in the lake pavilion, and said, seemingly unintentionally, “I have a distant cousin, named Song Yu, who seems to be on good terms with that Miss Shen.”

“These past two days she’s been asking my people for your private residence in Jing City, and even tried to get Chang An’s contact information.”

“I thought I’d better ask you first-if I gave it to her rashly and offended you, I couldn’t bear your wrath.”

Zhao Zonglan reclined with a cold expression in the Taishi Chair, flicked his cigarette ash, and didn’t even lift his eyelids. “You talk too much.”

Song Yanting adjusted his rimless glasses, smiling without a word.