Sharing Dreams with My Bestie's Cousin

Meng Fan also smiled back at him, "Then I’m really looking forward to that day, just thinking about it excites me, I might even wake up from my dreams laughing."

’Beep beep beep beep...’

Busy signal came from the phone, it was Rong Huaishen who hung up first.

Wen Zhi listened to their conversation from the side, she remained silent, looked at the uneven application of Meng Fan’s lip glaze in the mirror, then quietly picked up another one, uncapped it, and carefully reapplied it evenly for Meng Fan.

Meng Fan stayed still, quietly watching Wen Zhi.

After a while, she finally spoke slowly, "Zhizhi, do you think I’ll be able to get the divorce this time? Will that jerk actually follow through with his words?"

Wen Zhi said, "He should, I guess."

Meng Fan let out a sigh of relief, "That’s great, once I get divorced, I’ll celebrate with gongs and drums."

Wen Zhi softly called out, "Meng Fan."

Meng Fan raised her eyes, sparkling like bright stars, "Hmm?"

Wen Zhi seemed to want to say something but in the end didn’t. Actually, she had just seen a flash of loss in Meng Fan’s eyes.

After finishing her makeup, Meng Fan also picked out an outfit from Wen Zhi’s place, then drove to the Han Family.

Today the Han Family was unusually lively, the old master had decreed it, many people had returned, and it was said that four tables had been prepared in the dining area.

Arm in arm with Rong Huaishen, Meng Fan mingled with the relatives with ease, and after making their rounds, the question Meng Fan was asked the most was—

"You two have been married for almost three years now, when do you plan on having children?"

Rong Huaishen was effortlessly charming, indulgently glancing at Meng Fan, "We’re letting nature take its course."

Meng Fan cooperated very well, nestling her face into the crook of his arm, "He’s right."

After dealing with them and turning around, Meng Fan raised her hand to pinch her cheek, "My face is stiff from all that smiling."

Rong Huaishen reminded her, "A slight smile will do, no need to laugh heartlessly at everyone."

Meng Fan scoffed, "Not everyone is like you, cold and indifferent no matter who you see."

Rong Huaishen glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "Don’t take what my second aunt said to heart."

Not knowing which word touched a nerve, Meng Fan’s temper flared up suddenly, "Who would want to have your child!"

Luckily, they had already walked outside, otherwise Meng Fan’s voice would definitely have been overheard.

Rong Huaishen’s expression wasn’t very pleasant as he lowered his voice and said heavily, "I won’t make you have children."

Meng Fan huffed, "Oh, that’s right, Miss Shen will have children for you."

Rong Huaishen frowned.

Just then, Shang Hexing approached from the opposite direction. Meng Fan immediately plastered a smile on her face and greeted, "Uncle."

Shang Hexing nodded in response.

Rong Huaishen was only a few years younger than Shang Hexing; he couldn’t bring himself to call him uncle, so he just nodded in greeting each time, and Shang Hexing didn’t mind.

"Meng Fan, come with me," Shang Hexing signaled.

Meng Fan, surprised, pointed at herself, "Me?"

Shang Hexing nodded, "Yes, you."

Meng Fan was flattered. Shang Hexing didn’t give her time to ask or guess, and had already turned to walk towards the direction of the attic. Meng Fan let go of Rong Huaishen’s hand to follow, but after only two steps, Rong Huaishen grabbed her wrist.

Meng Fan turned back and glared at him, "It’s Uncle who’s calling me!"

"I know, I’m not blind," Rong Huaishen said with a stern face, reminding her, "I’m going to discuss some things with your father. When you’re done, don’t wander off, come find me."

Meng Fan suddenly remembered the words he had said over the phone—the divorce could be discussed after today.

Although her heart should have been happy, there was an indescribable sense of heaviness.

They were getting a divorce, yet he was still so controlling, Meng Fan really wanted to slap him.

Forget it, just endure it.

If they fell out too early, and he had second thoughts, it might not be so easy to get the divorce!

Meng Fan hastened her pace and followed after him.

Upon reaching the attic, she saw Shang Hexing standing tall and straight in the hallway. Today was the Han Family’s family banquet, and he wasn’t dressed very formally—a mature and steady white shirt, with the sleeves rolled halfway up, one of his hanging hands pinching a cigarette between his finger tips.

He stood there as if he was waiting for her.

Meng Fan hurried over, gasping for breath and called out, "Uncle?"

Shang Hexing tapped the ash off his cigarette, the ash fell to the ground. He glanced over Meng Fan’s clothes and asked, "Did you meet Wen Zhi this morning?"

Meng Fan was astonished, "Uncle, how did you know?"

Shang Hexing shifted his body slightly, "You’re wearing Wen Zhi’s dress."

Meng Fan: "..."

Could that really be noticed?

What kind of heightened perception did Uncle have!

She remembered this dress she was wearing, which seemed to be the one Wen Zhi wore to a graduation party more than a year ago. It was caught in a casual photograph that almost broke the campus forum. Countless boys lamented missing the good times, only realizing on that evening that their senior had graduated.

"Uncle, how did you know this dress I’m wearing is Wen Zhi’s?" Meng Fan didn’t have any other hobbies; she loved gossip.

She had to find out!

Shang Hexing took another puff of his cigarette, the smoke blurring his handsome face. He asked Meng Fan in an indifferent voice, "Want to know?"

Meng Fan bobbed her head eagerly like a chick pecking at grains.

Shang Hexing stubbed out his cigarette on the trash bin, tossing it on top. He turned to Meng Fan and said, "Then wait here."

Meng Fan: ?

Shang Hexing paid her no heed and walked towards the end of the corridor, stopping at the door of a room.

He raised his hand and knocked gently twice on the door, then it opened, and Shang Hexing stepped inside.

Meng Fan gazed in that direction, puzzled, "Isn’t that the old master’s room?"

Touching her chin, Meng Fan guessed, Uncle must have come up here to meet the old master! So why did Uncle call her up here?

No matter, now that she was here, might as well sneak up to the door and listen in.

The old master was in his attic; guards were stationed downstairs, but none outside his door. Meng Fan had followed behind her uncle up the stairs, so she hadn’t been stopped. She suddenly wondered, was all this arranged by Uncle?

Until she reached the door.

Meng Fan crept up quietly, pressing her ear against the door to eavesdrop.

No sounds?

Not even a whisper?

Could it be soundproofed too well?

Probably!

Just as Meng Fan was feeling a bit dejected, suddenly, a noise came from within the room—the old master’s voice, heavy and serious—

"Did you forget what I said yesterday? You don’t get to decide your own marriage! You must marry the Xie Family’s eldest daughter, and stay away from those who are neither proper nor decent. Treasure your political ’feathers’."

The old man was nearly ninety, yet his voice was still as booming as a large bell—he startled Meng Fan so much that her hairs stood on end, and she nearly fled.

Just as Meng Fan hesitated whether to leave or stay, she heard Shang Hexing’s voice. His tone was indifferent, without much fluctuation, but very firm, "I won’t marry the Xie Family’s eldest daughter."

The old master’s voice was fierce, "Say that again?"

Meng Fan’s heart rose to her throat.

Shang Hexing responded, "If you want to marry, you marry her."

Crash—

The sound of porcelain shattering echoed throughout the room; it was loud and clear even from outside. Meng Fan shivered with fright, followed by the sound of a stick striking someone.

Then came the second strike.

The third,

The fourth.

And the person being hit, did not make a single peep.

From behind the door, Meng Fan felt her bones ache; Uncle sure could take a beating!

Finally, after the fifth strike, the old master’s robust voice spoke, "Hexing, I’m giving you another chance, you..."

"I have given my heart elsewhere, further words are futile," that was Shang Hexing’s stance.