Chapter Ten: Breaking Off the Engagement (Part One)

"You're going today?"
"Yes, today."
"Are you really going?"
"Mm."
"What if you fail?"
Qin Luo paused, halting his movements as he brushed his hair in front of the mirror. He turned to look at Lin Qingyuan and said, "Grandpa Lin, I'm going to break off an engagement, not propose marriage. Why are you worried about that?"
Lin Qingyuan forced an awkward smile, thinking to himself, You silly boy, you’re already my future grandson-in-law in my heart. How could I not worry?
Of course, such thoughts were best left unsaid.
"Heh, I'm just afraid you might not succeed in breaking off the engagement and get discouraged."
"It’s nothing. I can handle it. Besides, I'm the one going to end it—what blow could I possibly suffer? At worst, I’ll just be more assertive," Qin Luo said, reassuring him.
"Exactly. Qin Luo, you must be firm in your attitude." Lin Qingyuan slapped him on the shoulder, his expression grave. "Marriage is no trivial matter—it's for life. If you unite without affection, you only harm both parties."
He seemed to forget who it was that, upon first meeting, had wanted to introduce his own granddaughter to someone else.
"Grandpa Lin, I will. I’ll make things clear to them. Marriage isn’t a business transaction—no one should be forced into it. Besides, I’ve never even met the girl. I’m sure they’ll be glad if I come to end the engagement," Qin Luo said with a smile.
"Yes, yes, that’s good, very good." Lin Qingyuan nodded repeatedly, growing fonder of Qin Luo by the moment.
Suddenly, Lin Qingyuan’s brow furrowed.
"Qin Luo, could I discuss something with you?"
"Grandpa Lin, whatever it is, just say it. No need for formality," Qin Luo replied, still arranging his long robe in the mirror.
"Could you change out of that long robe you’re wearing?" A faint flush crept across Lin Qingyuan’s face.
"Why?" Qin Luo was puzzled.
"I think… it’s too bright. Too eye-catching."
Qin Luo stared at him, at a loss for words.
Yesterday, upon hearing that the robe was a gift from Lin Huanxi, Lin Qingyuan had praised it endlessly, saying it looked elegant and distinguished, and that Qin Luo cut a dashing figure in it.
How had it become "too bright" and "attention-grabbing" overnight?
"Change it, will you? The older generation prefers young people who dress more conservatively. That black robe you wore before was just fine," Lin Qingyuan pressed on. "Even when breaking off an engagement, you should leave a good impression."
Lin Qingyuan thought, This boy is so handsome—what if the girl takes a liking to him? What will happen to my Huanxi then?
If he wears that staid black robe, the possibility should decrease considerably.
Ah, the heart of a parent truly knows no rest!
"Fine, I’ll change," Qin Luo agreed. He simply couldn’t refuse the earnest persuasion of an elder.
He shrugged off the robe and took out the black one from the closet, putting it on instead.
Lin Qingyuan nodded in satisfaction, offering a few words of praise before finally leaving with a "peace of mind."

****************

Staring at the crumpled slip of paper in his palm, Qin Luo wondered if he had come to the wrong place.
Though the note was stained with sweat, the line of neat penmanship was still clear: 18 Xianü Road, Fairy Mountain, Yan Capital.
Qin Luo checked the house number at the gate again. No mistake, this was it.
Yet everything before him suggested otherwise.
He stood before a secluded villa built on the slope of Fairy Mountain, a national geological park. The entire mountain served as its backyard, and the European-style castle was nestled amidst verdant hills and clear waters, exuding an air of mystery and aristocracy.
Several similar villas stood nearby. Even someone like Qin Luo, who had little concept of money, could tell that each one was exquisitely built and enormously expensive.
According to the taxi driver, these villas belonged to the wealthiest of the wealthy in Hua Country, though no one knew their true identities. Here, there was even a "Pasture Park" with Western European flair, as well as the "Oriental First Ranch." In summer, it was a place to escape the heat; in winter, one could watch the snow, ski, and feast on game...
Could it be that the person he was to break off the engagement with lived here? Just who had Grandpa saved all those years ago?
In modern Hua Country, where the imbalance between men and women was so severe, finding a bride was no easy feat.
Yet, by sheer luck, he had been promised a wife before he was even born. Judging by this, she seemed to be a wealthy heiress... Should he reconsider?
After all, how many men dreamed of being kept by a rich woman these days?
"Hey, what are you doing there?" A man in a black suit and earpiece called out to him warily. He had been watching for some time.
Tsk, tsk, his fiancée-to-be truly was rich—even her bodyguards were impressive. Not those cheap knockoff uniforms, but real black suits worth hundreds.
"Brother, I’m here to see someone," Qin Luo said politely.
"To see someone?" The guard clearly didn’t believe him, his eyes sweeping over Qin Luo suspiciously. "Who are you looking for?"
"Excuse me, does the owner of this house have the surname Wenren?" Qin Luo asked, pointing to the mansion.
The bodyguard snorted in contempt. "You say you’re looking for someone, but don’t even know the owner’s surname?"
"I know the surname, but I’m not sure if they live here," Qin Luo explained.
The guard’s face grew cold. "Whoever you are, I suggest you leave immediately. This isn’t a place for people like you."
"What do you mean, ‘people like me’?" Qin Luo’s voice chilled.
"Must I spell it out? You’re not from the right circles. Maybe you can get away with petty tricks elsewhere, but not here. This place has round-the-clock security and surveillance. Give up now," the guard sneered, clearly mistaking Qin Luo for a would-be burglar casing the joint.
"I really am here to see someone."
"Enough. Move along. Every thief we’ve caught said the same thing—‘just looking for someone.’ They all ended up down at the station, every single one with a record."
"Forget it, I’m done explaining," Qin Luo snapped, striding over to ring the bell at Villa 18.
"Hey! Don’t you dare press that!" The guard rushed to stop him.
"Are you crazy?" Qin Luo retorted. "If I were here to case the place, would I ring the doorbell in broad daylight?"
He thought, Let’s hope I haven’t come to the wrong place, or I’ll be thrown out with a mop.
"Stop right there!" The guard grabbed his sleeve to restrain him.
Qin Luo frowned. "Let go, you’ll wrinkle my clothes."

Seeing the commotion, two more guards ran over from the security booth, one even unfastening a stun baton from his belt.
Were they planning to use force?
Qin Luo, not wanting to get hurt, defended himself. With a quick twist, he reversed the guard’s grip and subdued him with a deft motion, shifting his weight and kicking him squarely on the backside. The guard stumbled forward, crashing into his colleague with the stun baton.
The "Pulling Technique" was both a method of fitness and combat, a Daoist art of using an opponent’s strength against them, reminiscent in some ways of Tai Chi.
"Enough!"
A commanding voice rang out.
It belonged to an elderly man in his fifties or sixties, hair slicked back in a style reminiscent of Wen Qiang from "The Bund" after he rose to power. He too wore a white robe, which made Qin Luo instantly feel some affinity for him.
These days, not everyone dared to dress so flamboyantly.
He seemed to command considerable authority—at his shout, the guards froze, not daring to move or even protest.
"What’s going on here?" The old man gave Qin Luo a once-over before turning to the guards.
"Uncle Shui, he was sneaking around the gate. I thought he might be a thief, so I tried to stop him... but he fought back," the guard explained sheepishly.
"What’s your business here?" Uncle Shui asked, his eyes sharp and dangerous.
A seasoned fighter, Qin Luo thought warily.
"I’m here to see someone," Qin Luo replied.
"Who?"
"Wenren Ting," Qin Luo said. That was the name Grandpa had told him to ask for.
"Wenren..." Uncle Shui studied him again. "Who are you? Why do you want to see the master?"
"Oh, so Wenren Ting really lives here?" Qin Luo grinned. At least he hadn’t come to the wrong place.
"He does. But… you should address him as Master Wenren. Young man, mind your manners," Uncle Shui said, exasperated. In this world, few would dare call the master by name so casually.
Yet this young man did so without a second thought, leaving him with a sense of absurdity.
"Haha, my surname is Qin—Qin Luo. I’m the grandson of Qin Zheng. Could you please let him know I’m here?" Qin Luo said with a smile.
"Qin? Are you the grandson of Doctor Qin?" Uncle Shui’s expression shifted in surprise, then delight.
"Doctor Qin? Yes, Qin Zheng is my grandfather," Qin Luo replied, amused that his usually taciturn grandfather seemed to have quite the reputation.
"Come in quickly!" Uncle Shui said warmly, taking Qin Luo’s hand. He turned to the anxious guards. "Remember, if a guest comes to visit, report to me."
"Yes, sir," the guards chorused.
"The master has mentioned you many times. You’ve finally come. Qin Luo, are you here to propose to the young miss?" Uncle Shui led him inside, his face full of excitement.