Chapter Forty-Nine: The Sun Family’s Betrothal Banquet

They booked two rooms at the hotel. Zhao Fan strolled over to the hospital, and just as he stepped through the entrance, his phone rang—it was his father calling.

“The Yang family has arrived at the hospital room.”

With a slight curl of his lips, Zhao Fan replied, “I’ll be there right away.”

Inside the ward, the Zhao family stood on one side, while the three members of the Yang family stood on the other, each eyeing the other warily, convinced that the other party harbored ill intentions.

Another family, caught in the middle, looked painfully embarrassed.

After a few deliberate coughs, Zhao Fan pushed open the door. “Everyone’s here, so why are you all just standing around? Let’s get the examinations done.”

Father Yang gave a cold snort. “Examinations? I see what you’re up to—you just want to keep our whole family here in the hospital, don’t you?”

Zhao Fan feigned surprise. “What are you talking about? Why would I want to keep your family here for no reason? Never mind anything else, it’d just take up space and be a nuisance to me. Why would I make trouble for myself?”

At the mention of “nuisance,” the faces of the Yang family darkened.

Mother Yang spat on the ground. “No manners, pfft!”

Zhao Fan cast her a frosty glance and sneered, “If we’re talking about lack of manners, your family could claim second place, but no one would dare claim first. Enough—I have no interest in wasting time with you. Go get the examinations.”

Once the surgery was done, he would settle accounts with the Yang family, one item at a time.

After a series of tests, Zhao Fan took the results and went to find the doctor.

“Judging from these results, there’s no problem with proceeding to surgery,” the doctor said.

A smile broke across Zhao Fan’s face. “So about scheduling the surgery…”

“Well, it can’t be done within the next couple days. Let’s say this Sunday morning. Is that alright?”

Zhao Fan exchanged a quick glance with his father and immediately nodded. Today was Thursday, so Sunday morning was just two days away.

“Sunday it is, then.”

“Alright, the time is set.”

“No problem.”

Leaving the doctor’s office, the three members of the Yang family said nothing, their eyes shifty and unreadable, clearly plotting something. Considering the surgery was already scheduled, the Zhao family didn’t bother with them. No matter what tricks the Yangs tried, the Zhaos now held the upper hand and had nothing to worry about.

Time passed, and soon it was the engagement banquet for the Sun family’s young lady. At six in the evening, Zhao Fan arrived at the hotel with his invitation and entered the banquet hall without trouble.

At that hour, no guests had arrived yet; the only people bustling about were those handling the decorations.

Dressed in a suit, Zhao Fan stood out in the middle of the hall. Before long, someone approached and asked if he needed any help.

“No need, just go about your business,” he replied.

With that, Zhao Fan found a spot to sit down, perfectly content not to be fussed over.

By seven o’clock, guests began to arrive in dribs and drabs. Compared to those who would arrive closer to the official start, these early arrivals were clearly the better connected.

Zhao Fan sat quietly in a corner, keeping to himself and thus not drawing much attention.

Before long, the quiet of the banquet hall gave way to lively conversation, clusters of guests chatting everywhere.

“Well, if it isn’t Master Bai himself, arriving so early tonight!”

Zhao Fan, who had been nodding off, snapped awake and looked toward the entrance—there was Bai Yongyuan, surrounded by an entourage.

Tsk, as expected of the Bai family patriarch—he was the center of attention the moment he appeared.

Yawning, Zhao Fan shifted in his seat and continued to wait. He was here tonight to exert pressure, but the crowd was still too sparse—he’d have to be patient.

Another half hour passed, and the atmosphere in the hall grew even more boisterous. Zhao Fan yawned again, braced his hands on his knees, and stood up, ready to make his appearance before Bai Yongyuan.

He had barely taken two steps when a commotion erupted at the entrance.

Zhao Fan instinctively paused, just in time to see a familiar face enter, surrounded by seven or eight companions.

Wu Qingfeng—the influential figure he had met by chance at the auction for the Song Dynasty porcelain vase. They had kept in touch afterward, though since the incident at the hospital, Zhao Fan had more or less put him out of mind. After all, someone who couldn’t even keep a simple promise wasn’t worth worrying about—except, perhaps, tonight…

A glint of thought flashed in Zhao Fan’s eyes; he stepped back slightly. Better to wait a bit longer.

As time went on, the Sun family’s engagement banquet drew toward its close, soon entering the latter half.

Once the engagement was confirmed, Zhao Fan set down his glass and strolled unhurriedly toward Bai Yongyuan.

At that moment, Bai Yongyuan was deep in conversation with Wu Qingfeng. Whatever was being said, Wu Qingfeng’s expression suddenly changed.

“The Bai family… integrity…”

Snippets of the conversation drifted through the crowd. Zhao Fan raised an eyebrow—could Wu Qingfeng be talking about the bet between him and the Bai family?

A moment later, his suspicion was confirmed: Wu Qingfeng was indeed discussing the wager.

“A bet is a bet. If you renege on your word, you lack the qualities of a true entrepreneur,” Wu Qingfeng declared. Those who knew him fell silent.

Bai Yongyuan’s expression stiffened; he was deeply irritated by Wu Qingfeng’s words. He hadn’t come over to be reprimanded like this.

Bah, if not for Yuanhong Group, who did Wu Qingfeng think he was?

“Patriarch Bai, from the look on your face, do you have some dissatisfaction with the Second Master?” someone interjected.

Zhao Fan took a step back, smiling, happy to watch the show unfold.

Bai Yongyuan snapped to attention and quickly composed himself. “Mr. Shen, whatever do you mean? I wouldn’t dare harbor any dissatisfaction toward Second Master. I was merely giving his words some extra thought—they do make sense.”

Mr. Shen, a young man obviously impatient by nature, stepped forward. “The Second Master always speaks sense. If you think otherwise, you must have something to hide—or you simply can’t stand him. Isn’t that right, Second Master?”

Wu Qingfeng replied coolly, “Everyone has their own views. The title of Second Master means little—it’s just a name.”

Bai Yongyuan paled. “Second Master, please don’t misunderstand—I intended nothing of the sort.”

Mr. Shen pressed on, “If you really mean nothing by it, why are you so flustered?”

Bai Yongyuan bristled. “Shen Mingfeng, what are you implying?”

Shen Mingfeng laughed. “What could I possibly be implying? I just can’t stand your tricks, that’s all. If you don’t want to pay up, then just say so. But dragging out a list of excuses and gathering everyone at this banquet—anyone would think this was the Sun family’s engagement, but someone who didn’t know better might think it’s a Bai family business gathering. It’s laughable.”

Laughable indeed!

The few words at the end struck Bai Yongyuan like a heavy blow; his face shifted through several shades before he finally regained composure.

“Mr. Shen loves to spout nonsense, I get it—young people always have their own ideas. It’s normal.”

Shen Mingfeng snorted, “I’m already over thirty, hardly young anymore, so don’t bother flattering me.”

“Heh…”

Bai Yongyuan feigned ignorance.

Rubbing his chin, Zhao Fan finally spoke up, “Patriarch Bai, when do you plan to honor the terms of our wager?”