Pampered By My Fake Boyfriend's Brother-Chapter 501: Have You Met His Family?

"It’s nothing." An Yin forced a smile.

Shi Qing looked at her, knowing it wasn’t the right time to disturb An Yin, but her curiosity got the better of her, so she said casually, "Your worries have nothing to do with Mr. Bao, right?"

An Yin, deep in her turmoil, quickly shook her head in denial, "Of course not."

"True." Shi Qing sighed, "Mr. Bao is so capable, no matter what trouble you face, he can help you solve it. How could he make you worry?"

Shi Qing wasn’t usually so talkative.

If An Yin were a bit sharper, she would have noticed Shi Qing intentionally steering the conversation towards Bao Shaojin. But An Yin was oblivious and never understood to speculate about others.

"He is indeed quite amazing," An Yin repeated.

Thinking about this hospitalization and the help the man had given her, An Yin wholeheartedly agreed with Shi Qing’s words.

"Mr. Bao is so kind to you. Have you met his family?" Shi Qing held her breath, her dark eyes fixed on the innocent face across from her.

"Huh?" An Yin’s mind was blank as she softly replied, "I’ve met his uncle." She thought of the man she had met at the temple before.

Unconsciously, the two of them ended up talking about Bao Shaojin, which An Yin found unbelievable.

Hearing An Yin’s serious answer, Shi Qing lowered her eyes and softly said, "Hmm."

Although she wanted to find out about the Bao Family, she didn’t want to involve An Yin. Even hearing just a few words from An Yin was enough for Shi Qing.

Shi Qing’s stay in the dormitory was short, and she left shortly afterward.

But An Yin kept thinking about what Shi Qing had said.

If the other party really had a family, would suddenly contacting him put him in a difficult position? An Yin was consumed by this thought, and the phone she held in her hand had long since become hot, yet she refused to let it go.

Night fell quietly.

When she looked at the dim room, she quickly got up to turn on the light.

Only when the room was brightly lit did she finally calm her anxious heart.

An Yin struggled with herself for half an hour before a bold idea arose in her mind. What if she simply called without revealing her identity?

She just wanted to hear his voice?

With that in mind, An Yin mustered her courage, her rounded eyes fixed on his number. As she dialed, she felt a buzzing in her head, as if a momentary roar had passed through her mind, making her lose her brief sense of reason.

The phone rang four times before it was answered.

Before the other party could speak, An Yin impulsively hung up and extended a hand to gently pat her rapidly rising chest.

It’s just a phone call, why was she so nervous? An Yin kept telling herself.

The phone in her hand then seemed like a hot potato, and she tossed it onto the desk.

***

An Residence.

Meng Heming’s cold eyes stared at the unknown number on the caller ID for three seconds before he called back, but the call wasn’t answered... perhaps it was just a wrong number.

Night.

He sat alone in the study, with a cup of warm water beside him, steam rising from its mouth.

These past few days felt like years to him.

Previously, without any contact with Ying’er, he was solely focused on finding her, and his long-frozen heart was disturbed by a phone call, even though he didn’t understand why Ying’er would have someone contact him.

However, for someone who had been out of touch for so many years, Ying’er reaching out was already a tremendous joy for him.

As long as she’s alright!

Next, he would do his utmost to find her.

When Uncle Ma knocked and entered, he saw the person at the desk and walked calmly over, "Sir."

Meng Heming looked up, "Any news?" His hands braced on the armrests of his chair, appearing full of energy.

Uncle Ma feared his next words would dampen Mr. Meng’s spirits and quickly shook his head to dismiss Mr. Meng’s thoughts. These days, Mr. Meng was like a startled bird, always thinking a servant’s movement was a message being delivered.

Little did he know, if the servants really had reliable news, they would certainly call first with the good news.

"Just say what’s on your mind." Meng Heming’s face visibly darkened upon hearing there was no news of Ying’er.

Uncle Ma hesitated, knowing the news wasn’t what Mr. Meng wanted to hear, but he conveyed it honestly, "The young master’s mother is sick."

Uncle Ma was referring to Xu Ming, who was once Mrs. Meng.

"Her illness has nothing to do with me?" Meng Heming coldly glared at Uncle Ma, his eyes filled with a chilling indifference that made one’s heart tremble.

"The young master called earlier and asked me to tell you." Uncle Ma observed the other’s expression as he spoke and, having started, went on to repeat the young master’s request, "The young master also said his mother has been thinking of you and wanted you to visit her."

Having said so much at once, Uncle Ma lowered his head nervously.

Mr. Meng really had no feelings for the former Mrs. Meng, and their relationship was even more estranged.

The silent room was filled with a strong ink scent; Mr. Meng had a habit of practicing calligraphy and painting.

Uncle Ma stood upright, and just when he thought no reply was forthcoming, a sharp voice came from the front.

"Leave the matters of the elders alone," Meng Heming’s voice turned cold, "Tell him exactly what I said, not a word less."

Uncle Ma’s body stiffened. Although Mr. Meng’s words seemed reasonable, they were actually a reminder for the young master, with an underlying warning.

"Understood." Uncle Ma bowed and retreated, feeling sorry for the young master, but remembering the suffering Mr. Meng had endured these years, his emotions slowly settled.

***

Meng Family’s suburban villa.

The servants stood warily on both sides, the night outside as dark as ink, with the occasional sound of chirping insects.

In the hall, Xu Ming sat in the main seat, wearing a pale blue nightgown, her eyes as still as dead water staring at a point in the distance.

A few meters away, a tall figure stood, making a phone call. The man’s brows furrowed tightly, indicating the conversation was not pleasant for him.

When he ended the call without speaking, an icy voice sounded from the woman.

"He’s not coming?" Xu Ming looked at her son with a sinister tone, as if Meng Sihan in front of her was just a trivial stranger.