Chapter 29

 

The housekeeper Yang Minwen hired was from Southeast Asia and spoke both Chinese and English, though neither very fluently.

When Liang Jiancheng politely said, “Thank you for your trouble,” the woman simply nodded and smiled, saying little and focusing on her work.

That was exactly what Gu Shuangyang required of her. Still, Liang Jiancheng hadn’t expected that Yang Minwen could actually find someone to fulfil such an exacting request. In fact, Yang Minwen managed everything inside and outside the house so perfectly.

Liang Jiancheng had wondered, more than once, whether Yang Minwen did all this out of love, out of fear, or out of respect. Perhaps it was a mix of all three. Outsiders often said Yang Minwen had chosen the easiest path in life, but Liang Jiancheng could not in good conscience agree.

Having witnessed so much firsthand, he knew well that Yang Minwen’s difficulties ran deep and in many directions.

At the end of the day, every family, once its doors were closed and lived their lives, it basically means a few meals and some soup on the table. The problem, however, was that while the stomach was easily filled, but the heart was never easily satisfied. This was also the source of each family’s unique troubles and sorrows. Forget it — to live in this world as a businessman who pursues profit above all, soothing the spirit with material gain, was perhaps the most tangible and fulfilling way to live.

When Gu Shuangyang came out after finishing her work and saw her son Liang Jiancheng, she merely gave him a few extra glances.

She was always a concise and orderly person — much like her usual attire, casual yet clean-cut. Since the day he had picked up Zhang Min from the café, Liang Jiancheng and his mother hadn’t spoken again. Logically, after Gu Shuangyang had met Zhang Min in person, the mother and son should have at least called each other to discuss the Zhang family’s situation. But both felt that since decisions had already been made, there was nothing more to say.

At the dinner table, Yang Minwen served Gu Shuangyang and Liang Jiancheng each a bowl of soup he had personally prepared. Gu Shuangyang had long been accustomed to Yang Minwen’s meticulous care, but Liang Jiancheng remained polite, saying, “Thank you, Brother Minwen.”

Just like when he was young, Liang Jiancheng called Yang Minwen “Brother Minwen.”

When Yang Minwen and Gu Shuangyang first married, Liang Jiancheng had considered changing his address to “Uncle Minwen,” — it seemed more appropriate, after all. But as a child, he had truly regarded Yang Minwen as an elder brother; the name “Brother Minwen” came too naturally to change it now. Forcing himself to would have felt wrong.

Besides, Yang Minwen was less than ten years older than him — calling him “Uncle” would indeed have sounded awkward.

Gu Shuangyang didn’t care about such things. She was who she was; he was himself; and Yang Minwen was Yang Minwen. Whether he called him by name, by nickname, uncle or brother — to her, it was only a form of address.

She never clung to formalities — and that, precisely, was what made her the woman she was.

“This is Linlan’s water duck from Yicheng. They’re all wild-raised — the soup comes out light and not greasy. And unlike chicken or beef, duck meat doesn’t cause internal heat.”

Yang Minwen politely introduced his hometown’s specialties. There was always an easy eloquence in his speech, as if determined to keep the dinner table from turning dull.

Gu Shuangyang was not talkative, but she accepted his chatter as the kind of domestic ease that filled a home.

At times, Liang Jiancheng felt that Yang Minwen was the perfect lubricant that kept this household running — revolving gently around the power center that was Gu Shuangyang, handling affairs and people alike with smooth precision.

Many people used to say he was the crown prince of Shuangyang Electronics; wealth might be inherited, but power was not. Rather than circling endlessly within his mother’s sphere of influence like Yang Minwen, Liang Jiancheng preferred to build one of his own — and that was why he had left Shuangyang Group.

People are strange that way — once life becomes too easy, they begin to crave struggle again.

Only those who are never satisfied, keep moving forward.

The atmosphere at the dinner table was quite harmonious, and Zhang Min was not mentioned at all. That alone showed his mother’s attitude — neither fondness nor dislike. To not speak of it was, perhaps, a quiet form of respect and tacit acceptance.

However, when the meal was almost over, another person was suddenly mentioned – Ming Xi.

“Old Liang and that Ming Xi…” Gu Shuangyang suddenly looked at her current husband Yang Minwen, but did not finish her words. Her gaze was always sharp, her manner forthright, but this topic was too awkward after all. Misunderstanding Old Liang was one thing, but she wouldn’t wronged a young girl for no reason. After all, they had once been husband and wife, and now that her own days were comfortable, Gu Shuangyang wished for him, too, to live at ease.

But how could she ask him about this! At her question, Yang Minwen coughed at once, even choking on a sip of soup. He quickly covered his mouth with a damp towel, his face flushing red. Given his position, helping Professor Liang was already delicate enough — it would not do for him to gossip or speculate behind his back.

At the same time, upon hearing his mother’s question, Liang Jiancheng, who had been quietly eating, suddenly lifted his head, his brows furrowed slightly. He wondered why his mother asked Yang Minwen but not him. Perhaps she assumed Yang Minwen was the only one who had come into contact with Ming Xi.

“No,” Liang Jiancheng said at once, answered his mother very firmly and straightforwardly

Gu Shuangyang had nearly finished eating. She set down her chopsticks, a faint smile playing on her lips as she teased, “I thought as much — he shouldn’t be that kind of man.”

Even so, a hint of doubt still lingered in her words.

Liang Jiancheng explained for Ming Xi’s sake, “Ming Xi and I know each other. She’s simply my father’s student — bright, ambitious. Her family was in trouble, and Old Liang couldn’t bear it, so he helped her out.”

“How do you know so much?” Gu Shuangyang’s perceptive mind immediately caught on. Only now did she realize she was the last to know, and her tone sharpened slightly — carrying the authority of someone demanding an answer.

Liang Jiancheng replied, “Because I was in Yicheng when my father decided to help her.”

“So you also know this Ming Xi?” Gu Shuangyang pressed.

Liang Jiancheng: “Yes.”

“And your relationship?”

“Friends.”

Gu Shuangyang shook her head lightly and said no more. That girl Ming Xi was beautiful. With that face and that manner, she would only grow more lovely and captivating with time. Two people from entirely different circles, of opposite genders, yet able to become friends — Gu Shuangyang, with all her experience, could not help but think over it again and again.

Life was full of unpredictable turns. She had seen too many to take anything lightly.

“Then you’d best mind your boundaries. Don’t let your closeness with another woman make Miss Zhang uncomfortable.”

“I won’t,” Liang Jiancheng replied, his face darkening slightly.

Just two words — “I won’t.” But whether he meant he wouldn’t overstep, or that he wouldn’t make Miss Zhang uncomfortable, was left ambiguous.

It was clearly his mother who had misunderstood his father’s character. He was merely explaining things for both his father and Ming Xi. Yet somehow, the matter had turned into a blade hanging over his own neck.

As long as Yang Minwen was there, though, the atmosphere at the table never soured. He brought out another dish — a silver-ear and bird’s-nest dessert — and gently placed it before Gu Shuangyang.

Then, in his gentle voice, he said, “You know Jiancheng’s temperament. Rather than worrying he’ll make Miss Zhang uneasy, I think it’s more likely she’ll feel lonely while he’s busy with work… He’s just like you in that way.”

Yang Minwen’s words were a double entendre.

Gu Shuangyang’s lips twitched slightly as she accepted the white porcelain spoon Yang Minwen offered.

Every item in this house, from the appliances and furniture down to the pots and pans, had been carefully chosen by Yang Minwen. Even this white porcelain spoon, delicate and well-balanced in her hand, was part of the “Yang’s Select” collection.

Yang Minwen had finished his meal and walked up behind Gu Shuangyang, gently massaging his wife’s shoulders. Gu Shuangyang let out a long, contented sigh; her tense body and usually stern posture gradually eased under the warmth of his hands.

The fatigue of the day was completely soothed by Yang Minwen’s slender fingers.

Seeing this, Liang Jiancheng felt there was no need to stay any longer.

…

Before leaving, Yang Minwen came out to see him off, handing him several beautifully packaged boxes of high-quality red ginseng. He said, “This is a Spring Festival gift from a Korean company. I found that red ginseng helps relieve fatigue — you’ve been working hard lately, you should take some to replenish yourself.”

Yang Minwen’s caring attitude was always gentle and natural.

Liang Jiancheng saw no reason to refuse and took it in his hands.

The two men stood side by side, one gentle and elegant, the other dashing and refined.

The scene was unexpectedly harmonious and beautiful.

Indeed, they had once had a close relationship, but now their statuses were different, with an extra seniority between them. However, their ages were only ten years apart.

In terms of temperament, Yang Minwen was like rice wine, smooth and mellow on the palate, yet concealing a rich, intense aroma. Liang Jiancheng, on the other hand, was like vodka, seemingly pure and light, yet fiercely potent flavor.

“Don’t take your mother’s words personally; that’s just her nature. She’s always respected Professor Liang — even cared about him, in her own way,” Yang Minwen said, offering to explain on Gu Shuangyang’s behalf.

Liang Jiancheng felt a little amused when he heard this; it was rare for a husband to speak up for his wife’s ex-husband.

“I understand,” he replied.

As he spoke, he took out a pack of German cigarettes, tapped out two, and handed one to Yang Minwen.

Yang Minwen politely declined — as long as Shuangyang was home, he never smoked a single cigarette.

Liang Jiancheng lit one himself and stood on the marble steps in the backyard, gazing at the flowers and trees. It seemed to him that even the smallest leaf carried its own secret thoughts.

The lamplight casted sparse, overlapping shadows.

With the cigarette at his lips, he exhaled a slow stream of smoke and turned back to ask, “Brother Minwen, let me ask you something. Was it you who arranged Ming Xi’s job?”

Although he had suspected the answer, he still wanted to hear it confirmed.

Yang Minwen smiled and admitted: “Yes, why?”

Liang Jiancheng shook his head, answering in an even tone, almost to himself: “Nothing. I had my eye on her before and wanted to recruit her to work in my company, but I didn’t expect you beat me to it.”

This…

Although he said it was nothing, his words seemed to blame him.

Could it be that both father and son wanted to help this girl surnamed Ming? Professor Liang acted first, and Liang Jiancheng missed his chance. It was difficult to blame his father, so he had shifted that faint displeasure onto him instead?

Yang Minwen chuckled, offering soothing words: “It’s not too late. If you truly want to recruit her, just show enough sincerity — why would she refuse? People naturally move upward, just as water flows downward. I’ve met Miss Ming once; she’s a clever and intelligent person.”

He could have done that, and yet…

At this moment, Liang Jiancheng felt a strange emptiness inside, a sense of inexplicable emotion swirling in his chest.

The faint smoke curled upward, carrying his thoughts adrift with it.

He replayed everything that had happened tonight, from his mother’s baseless speculations about his father and Ming Xi’s relationship at the dinner table to Yang Minwen’s tactful way of smoothing it over, to this final confirmation that Ming Xi’s job had indeed been arranged by him.

Initially, he felt indignant at his mother’s words, a resentment of being misunderstood. He felt that her assumptions not only tarnished his father’s reputation but also questioned his character.

He had always believed himself calm and capable, handling all matters with composure. Yet something in his mother’s remark had struck a crack through that carefully constructed fortress of reason.

By now, Yang Minwen had gone back inside, leaving Liang Jiancheng alone in the courtyard, quietly smoking what remained of his cigarette. The faint, lingering smoke didn’t clear his mind — it only made it hazier.

The human mind was divided into emotional and rational. When the rational part became chaotic, the emotional part unexpectedly became clear.

Why did he feel so offended? Was it because, deep down, he feared he might one day lose control?

That possibility unsettled him — perhaps that was why he’d felt such discomfort at the dinner table earlier.

Since childhood, under his family’s influence, Liang Jiancheng had abided by one rule:

A situation may slip out of control — but emotions must never.

But compared to losing control of emotions, the most terrifying thing was —

Losing control of affections.

In that moment, his thoughts — elusive and restless — drifted like the smoke in his hand, sinking deep into the haze that filled his chest, impossible to dispel.

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