Volume One, Chapter 148: A Fortune of One Hundred Million Versus the Promise of Lasting Forever

Lou Ye’s office possessed a style similar to his hillside villa.

Sang Wan had felt a sense of trepidation before entering, but once she stepped inside, she felt as if she had returned home. The layout consisted of an inner lounge and an outer office, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with professional texts. As she sat on the sofa, the gentle afternoon sun streamed through the glass, enveloping her in warmth and making her feel so drowsy she could fall asleep with a single blink.

Lou Ye brought over a cup of coffee. As he went to hand it to her, he hesitated and pulled it back. "Do you want to sleep for a while?"

"No..." Sang Wan sprawled lazily over the armrest of the sofa, squinting in the sunlight. Her voice was softened by the warmth, carrying a drowsy, muffled nasal tone. "I still have so much to do this afternoon. I just..."

She suddenly stopped, remembering why she had come up here in the first place. Lou Ye remembered, too. He sat down on the sofa, pulled her into his arms, and leaned down to kiss her. "Just what?"

"Just..." The bashfulness in her heart sprouted like a seedling breaking through the soil under the sun. Sang Wan looked up at him. "I suddenly missed you."

A smile rippled through Lou Ye’s eyes. Today, Sang Wan seemed like a different person. In the past, she had been like a walnut; to see her heart, he had to exert force while remaining incredibly cautious. He had to carefully pry open her shell, ensuring he didn't startle her, just to catch a glimpse of her soft inner core. But today, she had taken the initiative. She had spoken of giving herself to him. She had spoken of missing him.

The winter sun felt like a gentle breeze against his back, and Lou Ye felt his heart soften. "Yes, I missed you too."

He held her, stroking her back and twirling a strand of her hair around his fingertip. "Are you free tonight? There’s a gathering; let's go sit in for a while."

As soon as the words left his lips, he felt he had spoken out of turn. The sunlight was too warm, and Sang Wan was too sweet; he had been dazed by this sudden surge of happiness. Sun Yueqing’s funeral had only just passed its seventh day; his request was truly inappropriate.

A ticklish sensation at his shoulder caught his attention. Sang Wan nodded. "Alright... but you might have to wait for me a bit longer. I have a lot on my plate today, and I probably won't be finished by six."

"That’s fine!" Lou Ye’s heart, which had been suspended in mid-air, slowly settled. "Just message me when you're done, and I’ll wait for you in the car."

"Mm," Sang Wan replied.

...

The evening gathering was organized by Mu Fangfei, who had invited Lou Ye, Jiang Huai, and others who had grown up together, all to welcome Ming Qing back.

Ming Qing had been back for a week. According to their usual customs, the welcome banquet should have been arranged on the day she returned, or at the latest, the following day. But Lou Ye had been busy. Apart from Jiang Huai and Jiang Ke’er, and Ming Qing herself who had inquired privately, no one knew what Lou Ye was occupied with. He didn't reply to WeChat messages, ignored pings in their group chat, and would hang up after a single ring if they called.

The group had whispered among themselves, wondering if Elder Lou’s health was failing, given his age and the cold weather. But before they dared to ask, they saw Elder Lou at the Ming family patriarch's birthday banquet, leaning on his dragon-headed cane, looking spirited and full of life. This only made the group even more curious.

They hadn't expected Lou Ye to show up tonight. But he didn't come alone.

"What kind of lousy place is this?" Lou Ye muttered as soon as he walked in.

The group: ...

The venue was a hot spring resort in the suburbs of Beijing, which happened to be Lou Ye’s own property. It was freezing outside and snowing, and the tradition in winters past was to eat, drink, and then soak in the hot springs before bed. They hadn't expected this young master to look down on his own establishment.

"Young Master Lou, we’ve been..." waiting for you for a long time.

Mu Fangfei’s sentence remained unfinished because Lou Ye didn't pay her the slightest attention. Without even taking off his own coat, he turned to pull someone in, reaching out to touch her face. "Are you cold?"

It was Sang Wan.

Sang Wan shook her head and patted Lou Ye’s hand, signaling she could manage on her own. But Lou Ye wouldn't allow it; he insisted on helping her take off her coat and hanging it up before he finally bothered to remove his own.

At the center of the private room, Ming Qing’s expression shifted slightly. In their circle, it wasn't just anyone who could show up to these events. Even Mu Fangfei had only been allowed to join because her brother had spoken up for her several times. Only after Lou Ye nodded did Mu Chengfeng dare to bring her along. Yet today, Lou Ye had brought Sang Wan without so much as a greeting. Most importantly, when Mu Fangfei organized this gathering, she had made it clear in the group chat that it was to welcome her.

Her gaze fell on Sang Wan’s face—a face that, despite being married, remained radiantly stunning. Ming Qing looked back at Lou Ye, wishing she had X-ray vision to see into his mind. She desperately wanted to know if Lou Ye was doing this on purpose—deliberately bringing a remarried woman like Sang Wan to spite her—or if he really was, as he claimed, madly in love with her. But other than that beautiful, alluring face, she couldn't see anything extraordinary about Sang Wan.

"Brother, you finally made it!" In the silence, Jiang Huai walked up to greet them. He stepped in front of Sang Wan and said in a low voice, "Sister-in-law, my condolences for your loss."

Sang Wan was stunned—both by the title "sister-in-law" and by the expression of sympathy.

"I told him to say it!" Lou Ye spoke up, wrapping his arm around Sang Wan’s waist and leading her to sit in a corner of the sofa.

The two passed by them as if no one else existed, and everywhere they went, they were met with enthusiastic cries of "Young Master Lou" and "Sister-in-law."

Ming Qing tried to tell herself not to look, not to think. There was plenty of time; she would eventually see through it all. But then, her gaze swept over the agarwood prayer beads on Sang Wan’s wrist, and her expression changed once more.

"Isn't that..." Ming Qing turned to look at Jiang Huai, her eyes questioning.

Jiang Huai took a glance and nodded in confirmation. "That’s right, it’s that very string."

A storm surged in Ming Qing’s heart. That piece of Qi-Nan agarwood had been the finale of a charity auction years ago. It was originally valued at twenty million. But the moment the sandalwood box was opened, the entire auction hall had been filled with a rich, refreshing fragrance that refused to dissipate. Many had set their sights on it, herself included. The bidding started at five million and soared to fifty million before anyone else dared to bid. She had wanted it desperately and bid sixty million. But Lou Ye, who hadn't made a sound from start to finish, had bid "one hundred million," pushing the charity gala to its climax.

Afterward, friends had teased her, saying Young Master Lou had spent a fortune just to buy a smile from her. At the time, she had felt both uneasy and expectant. She was uneasy because one hundred million was a massive sum, and she wouldn't accept such a gift without reason; she would never agree to a marriage alliance just for a piece of wood. But she was expectant because of the prestige of that night.

Rare incense for a beauty. The finest incense naturally belonged to her, the first daughter of Beijing. If the "Crown Prince of Beijing," Lou Ye, were to win the bid and present it to her, it would become a legend among the elite. She would have been happy with that.

Later, she heard that Lou Ye had sent the wood to the Jiang Garden, asking Master Jiang to carve it into a string of ninety-nine beads—a symbol of longevity and permanence. It seemed Lou Ye had been obsessed with imbuing that piece of wood with a unique significance. It took a year to carve, but by then, she was already abroad.

She heard them say the string had been sent to the Sang Garden and offered before the incense burner of the Matchmaker God. Over time, it had become the treasure of the Sang Garden. So much time had passed that Ming Qing had almost forgotten about it. She never expected to see it on Sang Wan’s wrist.

She looked back. In the interplay of light and shadow, Lou Ye was gazing at Sang Wan with deep affection and tenderness. Ming Qing gripped her wine glass tightly, her nails scraping against the glass, making a shrill, grating sound.