Chapter Twelve: Pour Me Some Tea!

The word "aura" is defined in the dictionary as the power and imposing presence displayed by a person or thing.

In the past, Qin Luo had only a vague notion of what "aura" meant, lacking any concrete concept. But when Old Master Wenren Ting abruptly changed his demeanor, those two characters immediately loomed large in his mind.

Influence breeds momentum; momentum nourishes influence.

Wenren Ting, a commercial titan of China unknown to the media and the public, was now incensed.

His most beloved granddaughter, Wenren Muyue—hailed as the "hope of the Wenren family"—had just been rejected in marriage by a brash young man.

"You've found someone you like?" Wenren Ting asked, suppressing his anger. The two families had a longstanding engagement; even if the other party wished to marry someone else, he ought to have notified the Wenren family well in advance, not dragged it out this long.

"No." Qin Luo shook his head. He felt his neck stiffen, even such a simple gesture was difficult under the circumstances.

Fortunately, the Daoist Twelve-Section Brocade he practiced began to circulate within him just in time, alleviating much of the pressure. Otherwise, he might have been completely overwhelmed by the old man’s domineering presence.

"You think Muyue isn't good enough for you?" Wenren Ting’s brows knit even tighter.

"No. Though I haven't met Miss Wenren yet, judging by Wenren Zhao's looks, I can well imagine that Miss Wenren must be a peerless beauty." Qin Luo had never had much fondness for the pretty-boy Wenren Zhao, but now, to cope with Wenren Ting’s interrogation, he could only swallow his distaste and lavish the young man with praise.

"Then... give me a reason." Wenren Ting pressed no further, leaving Qin Luo to confess of his own accord.

"Grandfather, you know I have never met Miss Wenren. That means there is no emotional foundation between us. Such a union would only create a profound conflict with our views on love."

"Not just for me; I believe Miss Wenren feels the same. We both have the right to pursue true love. A marriage born of gratitude and debt is not what I am willing to accept, nor should it be a sacrifice Miss Wenren has to make."

"In life, so many opportunities for happiness are fleeting. One might easily let go of happiness within reach, only to regret it too late. I do not wish, when I finally meet a girl I like, to be bound by a mere contract and let her slip away. That’s not my style."

"And what is your style?" Wenren Ting’s expression finally softened, a smile appearing as he asked. It seemed he found Qin Luo’s explanation rather acceptable.

"Unfettered. To love whom I love." Qin Luo replied with conviction.

Had he been standing on a podium now, with countless pretty women from eighteen to thirty-eight in the audience, his performance would surely have been even more impassioned.

"Heh, well said—to love whom you love. Qin Luo, your Qin family is not only skilled in medicine, but also blessed with eloquence. You’ve convinced this old man. Still, are you sure you won’t reconsider? If you take back your words now, I can still help create opportunities for you. I, Wenren Ting, have done business all my life and never broken a promise." The old master smiled at Qin Luo, his gaze full of coaxing intent.

"Grandfather, I have already made my choice." Qin Luo replied with a smile.

"You can see for yourself, our Wenren family is not without means. Muyue is my most cherished granddaughter and has quite a head for business. The Wenren family may one day be entrusted to her."

The Wenren family, one of the four great ancient clans of China, wielded enormous influence in both politics and the economy. Their business empire stretched from catering, department stores, jewelry, automobiles, energy, to aviation materials, with interests spanning five provinces and sixteen cities across the Yangtze River Delta, amassing wealth on par with a nation.

If such fortune were to fall into a woman’s hands, anyone who could win her would inherit a commercial kingdom.

"That... would be Miss Wenren’s own destiny. It has nothing to do with me. I am ignorant in business, but at least I have my medical skills. I may not become immensely wealthy, but I can certainly provide for my family." Qin Luo replied stubbornly.

Inwardly, he pleaded: Old Master Wenren, Grandpa Wenren, Lord Wenren, please stop tempting me.

If you keep luring me, I... I just might change my mind.

"Although Muyue may not be the most beautiful woman under heaven, her reputation in Beijing is well-known. From what I hear, her suitors could line up from our gate all the way to Xuanwu Gate. Are you really going to give up such a wife?"

"...I believe love has nothing to do with looks. It's just a momentary stirring of the heart. The woman I marry may not be the most beautiful." Qin Luo said with a wry expression.

He was on the verge of tears. Was there ever such a tempting invitation to error?

Didn’t they know that he, Qin Luo, could refuse anything—but not temptation?

Wenren Ting nodded and said, "Very well. I see how it is. You are determined to call off this engagement."

"Grandfather, I hope this doesn’t affect the friendship between you and my grandfather. Besides, this is for Miss Wenren’s own good," Qin Luo explained.

"Yes. Muyue may not have said anything, but I know she is not in favor of this arrangement either. If you were here to propose, I’d still have to talk her into it. Since you’ve come to break it off, that’s one less worry for me." Wenren Ting nodded. "But what if you fall in love with Muyue in the future?"

"Haha. If I do, I’ll come woo her back." Qin Luo laughed. "But Miss Wenren is so outstanding—even if I like her, she may not like me. She’ll surely find someone more suited to her."

"Let’s hope so. Since neither of you wishes it, I won’t force it. A twisted melon is never sweet. Where are you staying in Beijing?"

"At one of my grandfather’s old friends’ homes," Qin Luo answered truthfully.

"Your grandfather is a brilliant physician, with many grateful beneficiaries. I needn’t worry about your lodgings. Very well. Stay for lunch today. In future, consider this your own home. If you need anything, just ask. Whatever the Wenren family has, you may use."

"Thank you, Grandfather," Qin Luo replied with a smile.

As a first-time visitor, it would be rude to leave immediately, so Qin Luo agreed to stay for lunch.

Mealtime had not yet arrived, so after Wenren Ting went to change clothes, Qin Luo sat in the living room sipping tea.

Before long, Wenren Zhao—the one sent away by his grandfather—came storming in again.

His fair, handsome face was flushed with anger, his eyes nearly spitting fire. Seeing Qin Luo still lounging and enjoying tea only enraged him further. He snatched Qin Luo’s cup and snapped, "Who do you think you are? What right do you have to come break off the engagement? In what way is my sister unworthy of you? What are you— Even if there were to be a breakup, it should be my sister rejecting you!"

Wenren Zhao was truly beside himself with rage. He had just barged into his grandfather’s room to protest, blaming him for entrusting his sister’s future to someone like Qin Luo.

To his shock, his grandfather had calmly stated that the visitor was not here to propose—but to break off the engagement. The man was never in favor of it.

This only further aggravated Wenren Zhao. His sister was a fairy among mortals, used only to turning away other men’s advances. How could she possibly be rejected by an ugly nobody?

To Wenren Zhao, in all his youthful beauty, Qin Luo was not the least bit handsome.

So, seeing that Qin Luo was still here, he charged over, bristling with indignation.

Qin Luo was truly at a loss for words.

Earlier, when he thought Qin Luo was here to propose, Wenren Zhao had flown into a rage, declaring him a toad lusting after a swan, wholly unworthy of his sister.

Now, learning that Qin Luo was here to break off the engagement, his anger only deepened—calling him worthless, unfit for his sister, yet still daring to reject her.

Did the wealthy truly believe only they were worthy of privilege, denying others even the right to choose their fate?

At this moment, Qin Luo actually felt relieved to be here to break off the engagement. If Wenren Zhao’s sister shared his views, then she was hardly worth pursuing.

"I’m thirsty. Pour me a cup of tea," Qin Luo said, pointing to the cup.

"You—" Wenren Zhao’s eyes widened. This guy really had the nerve. In the Wenren family, who would dare order him, the young master, around?

"Didn’t you hear me? I’m thirsty. Go make me some tea. Discard the first brew—I only drink the second," Qin Luo insisted, his eyes stubborn.

"Are you mad? Why should I fetch you tea? Who do you think you are?" Wenren Zhao sneered.

"I’m not mad," Qin Luo answered. "Have you forgotten what your grandfather said just now? If there’s a daughter, she’ll be married to a member of the Qin family. If there’s a son, he’ll serve at their command. Do Wenren family members not keep their word? Can’t you grant such a simple request?"

Qin Luo had no fondness for this spoiled young man and decided to teach him a lesson.

You want to spar with me? You’re out of your league.

"You—" Wenren Zhao’s hand shook as he pointed at Qin Luo, unable to retort. He had heard his grandfather’s words clearly and could not deny it.

"What, didn’t you hear me? Pour the tea," Qin Luo tapped the table. "If I spread word of this, wouldn’t it damage the Wenren family’s reputation? As a man of Wenren, can’t you live up to this little responsibility?"

"I hope you choke on it," Wenren Zhao muttered, seething, but powerless to defy this rascal. He snatched the cup and stalked off to prepare the tea.

"Remember, I only drink the second brew," Qin Luo called after him. "When you bring it, I’ll pour you half. If you want to spit in it, I won’t object."

Wenren Zhao’s body stiffened, stunned that his malicious thoughts were so easily laid bare.

"Bastard, just you wait. Daring to break off our engagement—see how my sister deals with you," Wenren Zhao thought fiercely, veins standing out on his clenched hand, the porcelain cup creaking in his grip.