The Stepmother's Counterattack: Raising a Child in a Bygone Era-Chapter 776 - 775: Xiaoma of Lilac Purple

"Place a bet?"

Looking at Yan Jing, looking completely at ease, Yan Su said helplessly, "Sister, stop joking. I can’t possibly go for a man so much younger than me."

Yan Jing neither agreed nor disagreed, "You’re also highly educated. How can your thinking be so conservative? Men can find girls ten or twenty years younger, so why can’t women choose younger guys by ten or twenty years?"

Though the two were sisters, their views were entirely different.

Compared to the traditional conservative, Yan Su, Yan Jing, who went to Harbor University at the age of eighteen and lived alone in Hong City for nearly ten years, obviously had a more open-minded attitude towards relationships.

Yan Su: "I don’t like younger guys."

Yan Jing took a sip of her tea, "Although I’m a whole cycle older than you, I’m not yet at the stage of having blurry vision. The way he looks at you isn’t as innocent as you say."

Yan Su was speechless.

At this moment, a waiter knocked on the door to bring in the dishes.

"Let’s eat, I’m starving."

"Mhm, let’s eat. The lamb is good; it nourishes and warms the blood, not worse than brown sugar ginger tea."

Yan Su: "..."

Can we even have a proper meal now?

After eating, the sisters left the private room one after the other.

Seeing Han Zibin waiting respectfully outside the room, Yan Jing glanced back at Yan Su with deep meaning.

Yan Su stayed silent.

"Manager Han doesn’t look that old. He’s probably not yet thirty, right?"

All the way out, Yan Jing chatted casually with Han Zibin as if it was unintentional.

"It’s close, I’m twenty-eight this year, born in the year of the snake."

Yan Jing nodded her head, "Twenty-eight, a good age indeed."

Han Zibin laughed, "Thank you for the compliment, Madam Ning. How did the dishes today suit your and the second miss’s taste? If there’s any shortcoming in our service, please feel free to point it out."

Yan Jing briefly responded and then switched the topic, "Manager Han, do you have a partner? There happens to be a niece on my husband’s side, around your age, smart and beautiful, only she’s been unlucky in love."

Perhaps not expecting Yan Jing to bring up personal matters, Han Zibin was taken aback.

"I’m flattered by Madam Ning’s kindness, but I already have someone I admire."

"Is that so, that’s quite a pity."

"Your niece is outstanding, I’m unworthy of her."

Yan Jing dismissed it with a laugh.

Getting into the car and catching a glimpse of Han Zibin still standing ramrod-straight outside the window, Yan Jing turned to her sister, "Who do you think his beloved is?"

Yan Su awkwardly turned her head away, "How would I know?"

"Then do you want to know?"

"It has nothing to do with me."

"Those reluctant to answer directly invariably have something to hide."

"Sister, can we not talk about him?"

Seeing her slightly annoyed, Yan Jing reached out, took her hand with a doting tone, "My sister can match any man in the world. It would be his good fortune if you favored him."

Yan Su’s hackles, raised from discomfort, softened at the heartwarming words and she affectionately rested her head on her sister’s shoulder.

"Sister, I’m quite content as I am."

Yan Jing stroked her cheek and chuckled softly, "Silly girl."

...

In the deep silence of the night, her heart struggled to find peace.

Yan Su got up, dressed, and went down to the cellar to pick a bottle of fine vintage Romanee-Conti wine, then returned to her room to sit by the window and drink alone.

With two glasses in her stomach, her thoughts began to flutter erratically.

Han Zibin’s name first reached her ears through her good friend Shen Mingzhu.

Mingzhu had mentioned him in a joyful tone, saying that the young man was extremely handsome, much like a male celebrity, and that she planned to introduce him to her and Zhong Qing when there was time.

Later, when she finally met the man himself, he indeed had a handsome air, a kind of clean quality about him—not the sleazy, smooth-talker type.

To support the business at Shenji, she often brought friends there to dine.

At that time, Han Zibin was still a kitchen staff member, so their opportunities to meet were rare, yet she heard his name frequently from the waitstaff.

In addition to explaining the taste and cooking methods, Shenji’s menu also boasted the name of the chef behind each dish.

To be honest, Han Zibin’s culinary skills didn’t stand out as much as his looks, but that didn’t stop the female customers from liking him and fawning over him.

However, she was not among those women.

It wasn’t until she saw his name on the volunteer list for the charity event she was overseeing that she took notice.

In remote mountain villages, resources were scarce, and many students were thin and pallid from hunger.

Periodically, she would organize volunteers to bring food to the rural schools and cook loving meals for the children.

Time reveals a person’s heart, a breadth of experiences shows their true nature.

As their interactions increased, she found that Han Zibin was not the opportunistic sycophant catering to others with his looks, as she had initially thought.

He was patient, attentive, and kind-hearted.

Gradually, she came to appreciate Han Zibin and treated him like a younger brother, even introducing clients to him.

Han Zibin treated her with respect.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint when their "sibling affection" began to change.

Perhaps it was when she twisted her ankle on a mountain path, and he carried her up and then back down without a second thought.

Droplets of sweat, clear and shining, ran down his neck and soaked into his collar, unsettling the calm surface of her heart.

Or maybe it was when she was harassed by a rogue, and he stepped in to intervene.

He lacked the mature man’s composed and poised self-restraint.

Yet he was naïve and wholly sincere, remembering the things she liked, reminding her to put on more clothes when it was cold—like a soft spring rain that quietly nourished her previously barren heart.

Even though she couldn’t control her heart’s descent, she was unwilling to tether her aging soul to someone in the prime of life like him.

On the eve of Christmas, Shen Mingzhu was invited by Madam Ning to take her daughter to the birthday party of Ning Yanxi and Ning Yanqing on the summit of Mingyuan Mountain.

To delight the siblings, the Ning Family had built a snow castle on the mountain using artificial snow.

Although Fengcheng had already seen its third snowfall of the season, the snowfall and temperature weren’t sufficient to build a castle.

From design to materials to labor, it cost a million, and it would all be dismantled by early March of the following year at the latest.

Four words described this: Rich and willful.

Children played inside the castle led by nannies and security, while the adults sat inside a glass-warmed room, drinking tea and chatting.

"Mrs. Pei, come with me for a moment."

Mingzhu had been enjoying the conversation when she was suddenly "summoned" by Yan Jing, leaving her a bit stunned and realizing that the Ning Family’s invitation might not have been all about the wine.

And here she thought it was because of her close relationship with Zhuang Xueqi.

She followed Yan Jing up to the second floor of the main villa.

She’d been to the Ning house many times, but only ever traveled the line between the living room and the restroom; this was her first time on the second floor.

To call it a "palace" wouldn’t be an exaggeration; it was a testament to luxury and wealth.

"You should like this bag."

!!!

Lilac Purple from Xiaoma.

Although she was crazily tempted, she didn’t dare accept it.

"Madam Ning, there’s no need to be so formal. If there’s anything you need my help with, just say it. I might not be able to assist, anyway."

Yan Jing slowly took her arm, slid the bag onto her wrist with an authoritative firmness that brooked no refusal: "You can help."

Mingzhu: "..."