Chapter 140: Hint, Follow the Rules

Chapter 140: A Hint to Play by the Rules

Song Fenglan didn’t need Auntie Fatty’s apology. Auntie Fatty wasn’t well-educated and didn’t have much life experience.

Perhaps Zhang Xiaohu’s first love had hit Auntie Fatty hard, or maybe his current wife, Tan Wu, rubbed her the wrong way...

There was a time when Auntie Fatty had been full of enthusiasm—when Xiao Hu was accepted into college, when Zhang Wen became a primary school teacher, and when Zhang Wen’s wife proved to be a good match. Back then, whenever Auntie Fatty called Song Fenglan, Fenglan could sense her joy. But now, there was a touch of meekness in Auntie Fatty’s tone, as if she had reverted to the days when Fenglan had just left to join her husband’s military posting. Back then, Auntie Fatty had been rather meek too.

In the past, Auntie Fatty might have seemed boisterous on the surface, even daring to confront those who criticized her. But at heart, she was always insecure, feeling she could never measure up to others.

“You live your life, and I’ll live mine. As adults, we’re all caught up in our own struggles—we can’t always stick together. Even married couples don’t necessarily stay together till the end,” Song Fenglan said.

“Fenglan…” Auntie Fatty was taken aback. She had expected Fenglan to be upset, maybe even scold her a little. She never imagined Fenglan would say something like this.

“You should be proud. Compared to those around you, your family is doing very well.”

“Fenglan, you… you’re still the same as before.” Auntie Fatty’s eyes grew a little watery. It wasn’t that Fenglan had changed—it was her.

After both her sons got married, Auntie Fatty became more cautious. She often griped that Tan Wu fell short, yet she never dared to say it to Tan Wu’s face. It wasn’t just with Tan Wu—she was the same with her elder son’s wife, afraid to upset her.

Auntie Fatty sold herbal jelly to scrape by, never earning much. She simply couldn’t compete with someone like Fan Yani.

Some parents might expect their kids to fork over their paychecks, but Auntie Fatty never asked her sons to do so, nor did she make them send her money monthly.

A few years ago, when Auntie Fatty and her husband went into debt to buy homes for Zhang Xiaohu and Zhang Wen’s marriages, they owed a considerable sum. Debt inevitably made her feel small, and she always bit her tongue, afraid that any displeasure might prompt creditors to demand repayment—that wouldn’t fly.

“I’ve paid back all the money I owed those people. It’s just the favors that I can’t repay all at once,” Auntie Fatty said.

“There’ll be plenty of chances in the future,” Song Fenglan reassured her. “Debts rule over people, but why should you worry so much?”

Auntie Fatty was sometimes too honest, without the fakeness others had.

“Before, I…”

“No need to say any of that,” Song Fenglan cut her off, already knowing what she wanted to say. “We’re at the age of being grandmothers now. When you visit Xiao Hu later, you can come see us too.”

“Mm, okay.” Auntie Fatty nodded, not pressing the matter further.

When Zhang Chenghai returned home, he found his wife in high spirits and couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the good news?”

“Fenglan is still so kind,” Auntie Fatty said.

“…” Zhang Chenghai had expected her to say something else entirely.

“Didn’t everyone outside say I was bad-mouthing Fenglan? She must’ve heard about it. But she didn’t blame me,” Auntie Fatty continued. “She told me to stand tall, to be proud, that I shouldn’t lower my head or feel inferior. Both our sons are earning now, and we’re no longer in debt. Tell me, how is Fenglan so good?”

“If she weren’t, would she have been your friend all these years?” Zhang Chenghai replied. “She’s been more than tolerant with you.”

“Mm.” Auntie Fatty nodded. “Truly, very tolerant.”

Auntie Fatty finally understood. At her age, with grandchildren and everyone busy with their own lives, it was natural for contact to dwindle. Who reached out first didn’t matter—what mattered was the sincerity of their bond.

“You’re right. I was just stuck in my own head,” Auntie Fatty admitted.

Everyone goes through emotional lows, and during those times, it’s easy to spiral into negativity. That’s exactly what had happened to Auntie Fatty—she had been obsessing over trivial matters.

“I even said Fenglan didn’t care about me, that she didn’t see me as a friend. But that wasn’t true,” Auntie Fatty said. “She could sense my mood changes—it’s just her nature. She’s been through so much more than I have, far steadier than me.”

“See? Now you realize it. I told you so many times before, but you insisted she was ignoring you,” Zhang Chenghai said, exasperated. His previous attempts to reason with her had been futile.

"I... I'm going through menopause," Auntie Chun glared at Zhang Chenghai.

"Oh sure, menopause—that explains everything," Zhang Chenghai could only reply. After all, this was his wife, not some stranger.

Speaking of which, Aunt Song (his mother) had earned quite a fortune as a director, and the Tangs had been circling like vultures over her success. Tang Shaotao wanted to sneak his kid into her productions to land an acting role.

Aunt Song shut him down flat. Tang Shaotao could send his son to other crews, but hers was off-limits.

"Mom, that’s your own grandson. Can’t you lend a hand? You’ll bankroll strangers but screw over family?" Tang Shaotao cornered Aunt Song on set.

Actors made good money, and Tang Shaotao’s younger son, Tang Qiming, had flunked his way through school, ending up stuck in dead-end gigs. Now, with no prospects, Tang Shaotao saw Aunt Song as his last resort.

After all these years, he figured she’d have let bygones be bygones.

"Over my dead body," Aunt Song snapped. "My crew, my rules. You lot aren’t getting near it."

She just wanted to focus on filming without putting up with their nonsense. She knew exactly what they were after—her company.

In your dreams!

She’d never hand over her company or film rights to these vultures.

"Mom, are you just going to watch your grandson become a deadbeat?" Tang Shaotao pressed. "If he can’t earn a living, what’s he supposed to do?"

"Let him stew in his own juices!" Aunt Song shot back. "This ain’t a charity. I owe you nothing. And don’t forget—you’re the ones who cut ties. By law, I could sue you for filial support, yet here you are, eyeing what’s mine. My assets, my say. End of story."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. When Tang Shaotao tried to advance, her hulking bodyguards blocked him.

His face darkened. Why was his mother still employing these brutes? One wrong move, and they’d drop him with a single kick—something Aunt Song wouldn’t hesitate to order.

Tang Qiming hadn’t dared to confront her himself, so Tang Shaotao had gone as his proxy.

Returning home, Tang Shaotao found his son staring expectantly.

"Dad, how’d it go?" Tang Qiming asked.

"Struck out. Your grandmother won’t have you," Tang Shaotao admitted.

"What’s her problem?" Tang Qiming sneered. "Actors stack serious cash—better than some office drone. Get famous, and the roles pile up. But Grandma couldn’t care less about us."

"I told you, she refused," Tang Shaotao sighed. "She’s dug in like a tick."

The thought made his blood boil. Decades later, and she still wouldn’t bend.

"Crash another set," Tang Shaotao suggested. "See if you can get in elsewhere."

"Without a drama degree? They laughed me out of the room," Tang Qiming grumbled. "Bet Grandma’s blacklisting me."

He fancied himself leading-man material—tall, decent-looking. How hard could acting be?

"Your grandmother..." Tang Shaotao hesitated. Surely she wouldn’t go that far... would she?

"She’s pulling strings against me!" Tang Qiming exploded when his father trailed off.

He’d never respected Aunt Song, and now he was convinced she was out to ruin him.

The next day, Tang Qiming marched over to Aunt Song’s place, brick in hand, ready to smash his way through. The bodyguards intercepted him—Aunt Song emerged unscathed while he wiped out and twisted his ankle. Karma’s a brick.

She didn’t even blink as he wailed like a stuck pig, calmly dialing 911 without missing a beat.

The police came to inquire about the situation, and Tang Qiming kept insisting he was just joking with his grandmother and never actually meant to hit her. He said he was practicing for a role and nothing more.

"He's lying. I have witnesses and proof," said Aunt Song.

The police saw this as a private family matter and urged Aunt Song to forgive Tang Qiming, saying an apology should settle things. But Aunt Song wouldn’t hear of it. If she accepted some half-hearted apology, the Tang family would probably try this again whenever they pleased.

In the end, Tang Qiming was detained for fifteen days, and Aunt Song dropped the matter.

When Song Fenglan heard what happened, she made time to visit Aunt Song, who was still filming with no breaks. Some scenes were shot in Aunt Song’s own home, while others were filmed at the houses of fellow actors.

Song Fenglan found her aunt easily. Though getting older, Aunt Song was determined to do this film right. As for her next project, she’d see how her health held up, but she still needed to polish the script first.

"Auntie," Song Fenglan said, setting down the food she’d brought in the living room before joining the filming in the next room—a large space set up just for shooting.

"What are you doing here?" Aunt Song asked. "Did you come because of what happened the other day? I’m alright, really."

"Just wanted to check on you," Song Fenglan said.

"Everything’s fine," Aunt Song replied. "It was Tang Qiming who sprained his foot—I’m perfectly fine. Serves him right, trying to hit me with a brick. No respect for his elders. Just like the rest of the Tangs."

"Glad you’re okay," Song Fenglan said, worried her aunt might still be upset.

"Don’t fret—I’m not bothered," Aunt Song said, reading her thoughts. "They’re not worth the trouble."

"Mm," Song Fenglan nodded. "As long as you know."

Song Fenglan had no love for the Tang family—most of them were rotten.

Over the past two days, Mrs. Tang had come by too, but Aunt Song ignored her. If she didn’t stand her ground, they’d keep thinking she was a pushover.

Tang Qiming’s fifteen-day detention was over before he knew it.

"Those people are all awful," Aunt Song said. "Only a fool would let them get under their skin. By the way, has Tang Lu reached out to you?"

"No," Song Fenglan said. "Why?"

"No reason," Aunt Song replied. "She’s still in Nancheng, unmarried."

Tang Lu was married to her work, with no plans to settle down. Aunt Song didn’t pry. During their last call, Tang Lu had mentioned something about planes, making Aunt Song wonder if she was hinting at contacting Song Fenglan.

"If she does reach out, don’t engage," Aunt Song warned. "Whether she’s after talent or whatever, that’s her business. You’re not part of her circle."

"She hasn’t contacted me," Song Fenglan repeated. "She didn’t when I was in Nancheng, and she certainly won’t now."

As for Tang Lu, Song Fenglan wasn’t sure what to think. She was a Tang, yet not quite like the others. Sometimes she could be a little sneaky, but overall, she was decent enough.

Song Fenglan had heard Tang Lu was doing well in Nancheng, even getting promoted. She could stay in the military or, if she left, transfer to a good unit—maybe a flight school to teach pilots.

In Nancheng, some knew Tang Lu and Song Fenglan were cousins. They hoped Tang Lu could help their children study under Song Fenglan or apply to be her graduate students.

"If you make this happen, we’ll be grateful," a colleague said.

"Don’t bother—I can’t help," Tang Lu said flatly. "My cousin and I aren’t close. Back in the hard times, we cut ties with our own mother, let alone each other. I wouldn’t ask her for favors for myself, much less for anyone else. If you want to approach her, do it the right way. Don’t expect special favors—she doesn’t work like that."

Unless someone was truly talented, Song Fenglan wouldn’t bend the rules.

Tang Lu’s colleague wasn’t asking for their own child but a relative’s. They kept asking around, hoping to secure a spot at a better school for graduate studies. The kid hadn’t gone to a strong undergrad program, so they were banking on a top mentor now. Many students reached out early to professors, especially the popular ones.

Song Fenglan had always been in demand, even more so lately. As she grew older, people stopped doubting her—they just accepted she was brilliant. Plenty of students contacted her each year, but she rarely replied personally. Often, her assistant handled it, giving everyone the same response: admission depended on their exam results.

Here’s the refined translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

As for those people wanting Song Fenglan to give their children high scores during student interviews, that’s out of the question. Song Fenglan sometimes doesn’t even participate in student interviews; it’s handled by others in the college.

"Honestly can’t help," Tang Lu said.

"My brother only has this one son, and he happens to be studying a related major," the colleague said. "I was wondering if you had any connections here. Really no way?"

"No," Tang Lu replied. "Capital Aeronautical University is already the strongest school in this field, with many high-achieving students. Those at the school must know how impressive my cousin is, so there are definitely many applying to be her graduate students. They should take the exam first, meet the score requirements, get admitted by the school, and then talk about other things."

"..." The colleague was worried her brother’s child might score too low, and even if they made it to the interview, they could easily be eliminated. If someone could put in a good word for her nephew, things would be much easier. "Money’s not a problem. If the child gets in, whether or not they become your cousin’s graduate student, you can keep it. If they don’t get in, you can return it to us. That’s fine."

"No," Tang Lu flat-out refused. She knew that according to the colleague’s logic, if the child didn’t get in, she could just return the money. But she didn’t want to deceive anyone. She wouldn’t go to Song Fenglan for this—if the child could get in on their own, fine; if not, Tang Lu couldn’t do anything about it.

Tang Lu lived frugally on her own and still had plenty of savings. She didn’t want to get involved in these matters and ruin her reputation, possibly even getting hit with corruption charges that would prevent her from staying in her position.

The colleague pulled Tang Lu aside to plead her case at length, but Tang Lu never agreed. The colleague even brought her nephew to meet Tang Lu, asking her to test him, but Tang Lu refused.

"I’m no expert, and I never went to grad school. I can’t test him," Tang Lu said.

She didn’t want people thinking she was tipping him off about the exam because of this. Tang Lu understood the colleague was pulling out all the stops to get her help, but she truly couldn’t assist.

Second Brother Jiang’s tofu shop was doing very well. Jiang Yufei visited several times and always saw people placing orders.

"Quite a lot of people buy tofu," Jiang Yufei remarked when she entered the shop. Auntie Jiang was still making tofu inside, batch after batch, looking soft and fresh.

"Not bad," Auntie Jiang replied.

Some customers bought tofu and asked Auntie Jiang to fry it for them. She wore an apron and a hat, and the shop was very clean. The couple cleaned the store daily—selling food meant keeping the place spotless so customers could buy without worrying about hygiene.

"Did your stinky tofu sell out?" Jiang Yufei asked, noticing none was on display today.

"Today’s batch is gone, and we didn’t bring more," Auntie Jiang glanced at her. "If you want some, come back tomorrow. I’ll give you a jar."

Stinky tofu was popular for making fermented bean curd, and Auntie Jiang added special seasonings like chili to enhance the flavor.

She didn’t mind giving Jiang Yufei some—it’s no big deal anyway.

"I heard the con artists who scammed you got caught," Jiang Yufei said. "Did they pay you back?"

"No way. They insisted it was an investment failure," Auntie Jiang replied. "We hired a lawyer, who said the money was likely gone. Those deadbeats had already spent everything—they were just lowlifes with nothing to their names."

"What about the demolition compensation?" Jiang Yufei asked.

"Demolition money? Some only had their legal residency here but no property," Auntie Jiang said. "Those with property wouldn’t give us the money—they’d already transferred it. These days, money’s lost its value. Who knows, maybe they’ll string us along and pay us back years later—but who can say?"

Just thinking about it made her blood boil. Back then, that money could buy a lot. Now, its value had dropped, and they could buy much less. Yet those lowlifes refused to pay, they’d rather face court than pay up. Since it was fraud—a criminal case—they’d go to jail anyway. If they were going to jail, why pay back? They believed they’d conned their way to that money.

Not just Auntie Jiang was upset—others who got scammed were furious too. But Auntie Jiang and the others were stuck. Even when they confronted the scammers’ families or relatives, those people claimed it had nothing to do with them.

"No use crying over that money now," Auntie Jiang said. "Some even tried to flee, but thankfully they were caught. If they’d escaped, they wouldn’t even have to serve time."

"True," Jiang Yufei agreed. "I think they’re deliberately not paying."

"Exactly," Auntie Jiang said. "Hoping they’ll pay is hopeless. We just have to earn more ourselves."

Fortunately, thanks to the demolition, Second Brother Jiang and Auntie Jiang had more money now. They’d learned their lesson—if they didn’t understand other businesses, they wouldn’t dabble in them. Instead, they followed Song Fenglan’s example and bought properties to rent out, at least earning some income and preserving value.

"How’s your brother-in-law? How’s the remodeling coming along?" Auntie Jiang asked.

"We get by—enough to keep the family afloat," said Jiang Yufei.

Jiang Yufei’s husband worked in renovation and earned a decent monthly wage, but he told her not to boast about it. Lu Ping knew plenty of folks made more than him, especially those from the Song family, who were particularly well-off, which made him feel downright average. He also worried that if Jiang Yufei talked about it, it would only embarrass him.

Jiang Yufei thought about it and realized that compared to the Song family, they really couldn’t compete.

"You hit the jackpot with that demolition payout," Jiang Yufei said.

"Pure luck," replied Auntie Jiang. "Are you going to see Mom?"

"Yes, yes, I’m heading over to her now," Jiang Yufei said.

Jiang Yufei’s son was married but still lived with her and her husband in the same house. The couple hadn’t saved much money, mainly because Jiang Yufei hadn’t understood the importance of saving when she was younger and had blown through it all. By the time their son got married and needed to buy a house, they had little money left and had to borrow from others.

After buying the house, there was still renovation and other expenses to deal with, all of which cost money.

Jiang Yufei and her husband had only recently managed to buy a commercial property for their son, but it hadn’t been renovated yet and couldn’t be lived in. The whole family was still piled into one place, and Jiang Yufei, now a grandmother, had to deal with the constant crying of the children at home, which drove her up the wall.

To avoid babysitting, Jiang Yufei went out to visit Auntie Yu—she’d rather be anywhere else.

When she met Auntie Yu, Jiang Yufei went on about how she should’ve stopped at one kid like Song Fenglan.

"So much trouble, and now I have to babysit. It’s a nightmare," Jiang Yufei said. She was all about enjoying herself, and if the children weren’t constantly crying, she might’ve been willing to help. But the nonstop crying grated on her nerves—she couldn’t stand it.

"You’re a grandmother now. If you don’t help take care of the kids, how can your daughter-in-law go out and work?" Auntie Yu said. "It’s not like your family is sitting on a gold mine. If you help with the kids, your daughter-in-law can go out and earn some income—that’s not a bad thing."

Auntie Yu herself still took on odd jobs. She and her husband had some demolition compensation money, along with part of her dowry. But she pinched every penny—she had to keep working in case there were future expenses.

"What kind of job can she even do?" Jiang Yufei said. "She wouldn’t earn much anyway. Might as well keep her on kid duty."

"How’s the renovation going?" Auntie Yu asked.

"Same old, same old. Lu Ping is handling it himself to save some money," Jiang Yufei said. "When we bought the house, we suggested getting a bigger one with an extra room or two, but they refused. They’re dead set against us moving in. We paid for most of the house, and this is how they treat us."

This made Jiang Yufei hold a grudge against her daughter-in-law. She had also wanted to live in the new house—who wouldn’t? But her daughter-in-law’s attitude frustrated her. No matter how much Jiang Yufei complained, it didn’t change anything.

"My daughter-in-law even had the nerve to say that Song Fenglan gave her daughter-in-law a house—with the property deed directly under her name," Jiang Yufei said. "Give me a break. Does she think she married Qin Zihang or something?"

Jiang Yufei had long heard about Song Fenglan’s generosity, but how could her family compare? Song Fenglan alone had earned a fortune, not to mention Qin Yizhou’s demolition compensation. The couple was so wealthy that they could hand out properties like candy.

"Song Fenglan is something else—she just gave several property deeds to her daughter-in-law," Jiang Yufei said. "I heard even shares from her second brother’s company are under her daughter-in-law’s name now."

Jiang Yufei thought Xu Yan was practically a stranger—she hadn’t even had children yet, and Song Fenglan was already treating her so well.

"She’s not even worried her daughter-in-law might take the money and run," Jiang Yufei said.

"She’s not afraid," Auntie Yu said. "There are strings attached—they can spell it all out in the contract. Do you think Fenglan is a fool? She’s not."

Auntie Yu had lived under the same roof as Song Fenglan for years and knew she had street smarts. Without it, Song Fenglan would’ve been eaten alive.

"Your family shouldn’t compare yourselves to hers," Auntie Yu said. "You don’t have that kind of money."

"That’s what I said too," Jiang Yufei replied.

"If you don’t want to take care of the kids, then don’t—but don’t count on your daughter-in-law returning the favor," Auntie Yu said. "A daughter-in-law isn’t your own child. She’ll only treat you well in the future if you treat her well now. The way you treat her now is how she’ll treat you later."

"I have a son and a daughter," Jiang Yufei said. "Even if I treat her well now, no promises she’ll return the kindness."

"Do as you see fit," said Aunt Yu, her hair completely white, looking far older than Mother Song.

Aunt Yu seldom visited Mother Song, only dropping by when there was a reason. After receiving the relocation payout, Mother Song still gave Aunt Yu some things, though not as much as before. Mother Song didn’t want Aunt Yu to feel patronized, and Aunt Yu didn’t take offense at her actions.

Her elder sister had already helped her a lot, and Aunt Yu knew Mother Song was being considerate of her pride.

During the graduate admissions interview, a student hinted that he knew Song Fenglan and had connections with her relatives. At the time, Song Fenglan wasn’t involved in the interview process, and some thought the student might have been handpicked by her. But upon reflection, it didn’t make sense—Song Fenglan never engaged in such practices.

"No, I’ve never met him," Song Fenglan clarified when staff asked her, revealing she had no idea about the situation.

"He’s from Nan City and says he knows your cousin," the staff member said.

"No idea. I don’t know him," Song Fenglan replied.

"His scores are too low—his written exam scores were borderline," the staff member added.

"Stick to the rules," Song Fenglan said firmly. "I can’t possibly take him as my student."

Her blunt response made her stance clear. Song Fenglan was floored by the student’s nerve, baffled that someone would dare to make such claims.

When she returned home, Song Fenglan didn’t call Third Aunt Song or contact Tang Lu. She mentioned the incident to Qin Yizhou, expressing her surprise that someone from Nan City had used Tang Lu’s name to claim a connection with her, dropping hints—even outright name-dropping—to the interviewers.

"There’s such a thing?" Qin Yizhou was hearing about it for the first time.

"Yes," Song Fenglan said. "I genuinely don’t know him, nor do I have any intention of taking him as a student. His written exam score was the lowest—just squeaked into the interview. That’s fine in itself, as many people scrape by. But he probably knew his chances were slim, so he resorted to name-dropping and heavy hints."

"So he wasn’t admitted?" Qin Yizhou asked.

"No," Song Fenglan said. "When someone came to ask me directly, I made my position clear."

She was floored by the student’s nerve.

"Tang Lu probably knows him," Song Fenglan mused. "I don’t know if she’s aware of this situation, and I won’t ask her. We’ve had zero contact for years—not even back in Nan City. She knows our relationship is distant, so logically, she wouldn’t be behind this."

Unless Tang Lu had it out for the student and wanted to sabotage him.

But Tang Lu wouldn’t hold a grudge against a young person. Song Fenglan couldn’t figure out what had really happened. Regardless, she wasn’t about to take that student—if someone else wanted to, they could have him.

Tang Lu’s colleague approached her again, pushing her to call Song Fenglan for a favor. The colleague’s nephew had already made it to the interview stage at Capital Aeronautical University—wasn’t the interview a shoo-in? If Song Fenglan put in a word, the kid would get in.

But when Tang Lu learned about the nephew’s scheming, she knew he had no chance.

"Look into other schools," Tang Lu said.

"Why?" the colleague pressed. "If you don’t even try, how can you—"

"If you managed to dig up my ties with Song Fenglan, you should also know they’re not good. Back when I was here and she was in Nan City, we never even met. When I was sick, Lili went to her, and she didn’t lift a finger for me. Given that, do you really think my cousin would do me any favors? Or that your hints would get your nephew in?"

"But—"

"Give it up. If you hadn’t tried this, he might’ve had a chance. Now? No way," Tang Lu said. "You played yourselves—overthought it."

"How did we mess this up? You never said anything!" The colleague’s eyes widened.

"I spelled it out early on—this connection wouldn’t work," Tang Lu said. "I was straightforward, yet you still went ahead with this. What more can I say? I can’t spell out every detail of my relationship with my cousin. I made it clear enough back then. That’s your doing."

"Oh no… If my brother finds out, he’ll hate me forever," the colleague fretted. "Is there really no way?"

"No," Tang Lu said. "Your brother was just grasping at straws. It didn’t work—that’s just how it is."

"I'm afraid they'll blame me," the colleague said.

"Don’t pin this on me," Tang Lu replied. "How was I supposed to know you didn’t clarify things with your brother?"

"I..." The colleague sighed helplessly. She couldn’t confess she’d taken her brother’s money, claiming she could pull strings to get his son into Capital Aeronautical University. Now she’d have to return the money, and her brother and sister-in-law would be livid.

Even if she kept the money and blamed Tang Lu, that wouldn’t fly either.

The colleague figured since they were all in the same city, if her brother and sister-in-law confronted Tang Lu, the lie would unravel. But refunding everything was out of the question—she’d only return some. Even her own nephew wasn’t off-limits—she’d still skim off the top.

"It's getting late. Are you staying here?" Tang Lu asked.

"I should head back," the colleague said.

Tang Lu didn’t spread it around, but word got out that the colleague had come to her.

Two days later, the colleague’s brother and sister-in-law showed up, demanding an explanation from Tang Lu. The colleague rushed out to intercept them—how had they gotten here so fast?

"She didn’t take any money," the colleague insisted. "She never agreed to help. Don’t cause a scene—keep this quiet."

"Then who took the money if not her?" the sister-in-law shouted.

Their supervisor caught wind of it after overhearing. Both the colleague and Tang Lu were called into the office. The supervisor already knew about Tang Lu’s strained relationship with Song Fenglan. Tang Lu denied taking money, forcing the colleague to fess up—she’d accepted money from her brother and sister-in-law only because they insisted.

But that wasn’t how she’d framed it to them. She’d told them "it takes money to grease the wheels," and they’d handed it over without question. Now, with the situation escalating, the colleague feared being fired and changed her story.

Her brother and sister-in-law, not wanting her to lose her job, went along with the lie.

At best, it was just a family squabble. At worst, it could be seen as bribery—but given the familial ties, there was room for alternative explanations.

Because of this incident, many learned of the colleague’s actions, and she was eventually transferred elsewhere.

Tang Lu called Aunt Song to explain. Aunt Song lit into her right away.

"Some colleague you’ve got there," Aunt Song sneered. "Were you hoping Feng Lan would help you too?"

"No," Tang Lu said. "I didn’t call my cousin or ask her for favors. How was I to know my colleague would push her nephew like that? She did it deliberately, thinking my cousin would keep him out of respect for me."

"You think Feng Lan owes you something? Like she should bow to you?" Aunt Song scoffed. "Give me a break. If you hadn’t said anything, who would’ve known about your relationship with Feng Lan?"

"..." Tang Lu fell silent. True, she had been the one to tell Jian Lili first, and from there, the news spread.

Even though Jian Lili had since left to marry and start a family, others who knew remained. Gossip spreads, and people don’t forget.

Ultimately, Tang Lu had revealed it herself. If she hadn’t, even her supervisor wouldn’t have casually mentioned it.

"Now that you’re facing backlash, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself," Aunt Song said. "Some cousins you are. Happy now?"

Aunt Song wasn’t letting up—if anything, she dug the knife in deeper.

"How could I be happy?" Tang Lu said. "I didn’t see this coming. I thought I spelled it out. Does my cousin know already?"

"She hasn’t told me," Aunt Song said. "She usually keeps such unpleasantness to herself. Only you’d have the gall to mention it."

"I—I just told you because it seemed wrong not to," Tang Lu stammered.

"Afraid Feng Lan would tell me first? Worried about your image in my eyes? What image do you even have left?" Aunt Song retorted. "Don’t play the 'young and dumb' card—you’re still screwing up now."

"Yes, it's my fault." Tang Lu couldn't possibly deny it was her own issue. "Mom..."

"Then think hard about what you've done." Third Aunt Song said. "Really think about it."

"I will, I will." Tang Lu replied. "Mom, about Cousin..."

"Don't expect me to go put in a good word for you." Third Aunt Song interrupted. "They spelled it out plain and clear—your cousin must already know. Wait, no, you shouldn't even call her 'cousin' anymore. The Tang family and our Song family aren't family anymore."

"..." It felt like a thousand needles stabbing Tang Lu's heart.

Even though Third Aunt Song thought Tang Lu's actions had nothing to do with her, Tang Lu was still her daughter after all. So Third Aunt Song still bought some gifts and went to Song Fenglan's home.