Chapter 47 The Banquet

Draped in a sapphire blue, vintage-style Chinese dress with a hint of qipao flair, she was the very image of elegance, her graceful figure outlined to perfection. In her hand, she held a small folding fan adorned with a pendant, looking for all the world like a classical beauty stepped straight from an ancient painting.

Lu Yan found himself momentarily transfixed, only returning to his senses when his son’s small hand shook his own twice. An’an, instantly discerning his mother’s intentions, asked, “Are you going to sing for Grandpa Qian again?”

Shen Qingyi approached An’an, tapping his head lightly with her fan. “What else? This is all your mother knows how to do.”

An’an nodded with an air of solemn understanding. “Whenever the other uncles and aunties bring gifts, Mama either sings or lets Grandpa Qian hold me.”

Lu Yan glanced at his wife in surprise. He had always known she loved listening to performances, but he couldn’t recall ever hearing her sing herself.

The family of three, perfectly groomed, stepped out and instantly drew admiring glances. Together, they were dazzling—more radiant than any actors gracing a calendar.

They stopped in front of Cheng Youqing’s home. Shen Qingyi called out, and soon the click-clack of high heels echoed from within. Cheng Youqing wore the trendiest twin braids, a white floral blouse, and a black pleated skirt—an ensemble that suited her well.

Seeing Lu Yan, she was momentarily startled, stepping back and whispering in Shen Qingyi’s ear, “I think Lu Yan should just stay behind.”

Shen Qingyi frowned slightly. “Why?”

“He’s too conspicuous!” Cheng Youqing muttered under her breath.

Shen Qingyi merely smiled. “It doesn’t matter.”

Lu Yan watched the two women whispering, not knowing their topic, but their good spirits were obvious—especially Qingyi’s. He himself had spent the previous night sleepless, troubled by issues at work, while his wife seemed utterly untroubled, as if nothing had happened.

So it was that Lu Yan, holding An’an, and Cheng Youqing, arm in arm with Shen Qingyi, hailed a taxi and headed to the Qian family’s old residence.

The Qian family home was an old but grand courtyard house, unmistakably aristocratic. Though damaged during turbulent years, it had been exquisitely restored. Inside, the décor was tasteful and elegant. Even though most of the guests were of notable background, Lu Yan and his family still drew curious glances.

Xia Xiyun spotted Shen Qingyi and An’an and greeted them warmly, “Qingyi, empty-handed again?”

But as she spoke, her gaze drifted to the tall man carrying the child. His refined features and clean, aloof demeanor seemed almost out of place in these surroundings.

Lu Yan, sensing Xia Xiyun’s scrutiny, gave her a polite nod. “I’m An’an’s father,” he introduced himself.

Xia Xiyun quickly averted her gaze from Lu Yan, turning back to Shen Qingyi. “Your design is excellent, but it only fits high-end occasions. Sales aren’t great.”

Shen Qingyi smiled. “It was expensive when I bought it at Huaqiao’s shop yesterday—over three hundred. Even if sales are slow, you’re not losing money.”

Lu Yan was astonished—both at his wife’s design talent and the Xia family’s business acumen. Though he wasn’t in business himself, he immediately saw through their play: producing designs domestically, labeling them with obscure foreign brands, and then selling them at home as luxury imports.

In just a few sentences, Lu Yan had already pieced together the scheme. He finally understood how his wife made so much money and why An’an said she loved buying clothes.

While they chatted, Old Master Qian appeared, followed by seven or eight respectful men and women. Shen Qingyi immediately stepped forward to greet him, “Teacher!”

The old gentleman beamed, nodding as he took An’an from Lu Yan’s arms, then looked Lu Yan over with keen interest. After a moment’s silence, he said with satisfaction, “Excellent, truly excellent—only Shen Huaishan could have chosen someone like you.”

Lu Yan replied politely, “Teacher Qian.”

Qian Fanxi smiled, but before he could say more, a man rushed over, delighted. “Lu Yan?”

Lu Yan recognized his old classmate and nodded with a smile.

“You really made something of yourself! Your scientific papers have been translated into several languages and published in HF’s physics journal. That new formula you wrote—everyone’s using it now. What a pity!” The speaker, Fan Lei, had just returned from a top foreign university. His family was well-off and had longstanding ties with the Qian family.

Someone nearby remembered, “Wasn’t he the engineer on TV the other day?”

Fan Lei nodded eagerly. “Yes, my schoolmate! Different professors, but we exchanged ideas often. Such a loss!”

Again, that refrain—“such a loss!”—left the onlookers baffled.

Fan Lei was an honored guest in the Qian household, so everyone turned their attention to Lu Yan. Sensing the focus shifting, Shen Qingyi quickly turned to Qian Fanxi, “Teacher, shall we see what gifts your students have prepared?”

An’an winked at Old Master Qian. “Mama’s here to sing for you again.”

Xia Xiyun teased, “Your Grandpa Qian loves your mother’s singing. If she hadn’t come to sing every day, he’d never have accepted her as a student. So stop teasing your mother about only knowing how to sing.”

With that, Fan Lei invited Lu Yan to the other side of a screen, while Shen Qingyi and Cheng Youqing joined a table by the rockery.

Because of Fan Lei’s attitude, those curious about Lu Yan could only observe from afar.

At a small table, the two men sat opposite each other. Fan Lei poured Lu Yan a cup of tea and sighed. “Such a shame.”

Lu Yan frowned. “What’s a shame?”

“If you’d gone to HF in A country, you’d be so much further now. And look, you even married…” Fan Lei’s disdain for the so-called arts crowd was obvious. The country had only recently opened up to private enterprise, but the elite circles already had their own hierarchies. Even the Xia family ranked only in the middle; as for Lu Yan’s wife, Shen Qingyi, had it not been for her teacher-student connection with Old Master Qian, she’d never have gained entry. She was at the very bottom of the pecking order.

Lu Yan sipped his tea. “There’s nothing to regret. I’m quite content.”

Fan Lei gave Shen Qingyi a long, meaningful look from across the room. “So you’re really willing to settle for this?”

Lu Yan found it odd. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He disliked the tone with which Fan Lei spoke of his wife; a faint irritation stirred within him.

“Didn’t you tell me back in middle school—a girl sponsored you, wrote you letters, and asked me to find out who it was? I thought… So because of Professor Shen, you just gave up?” Fan Lei considered it unfair that Professor Shen had entrusted his daughter to Lu Yan after what he’d done.

As he spoke, a woman behind the screen’s gaze flickered. She had noticed Lu Yan the moment he walked in.

Lu Yan replied coolly, “You never found her, did you? And anyway, what does that have to do with the woman I married now?”