Chapter 15

Chapter 15

*

When they finished watching the sunrise and descended the mountain, the morning mountain path was already bustling with a steady stream of people. Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves, casting warm rays onto the stone steps.

Jin Mo had dozed off earlier, and the exhaustion that had washed over her was now completely gone.

Moreover, perhaps because she had finally figured out that thing that had been bugging her for years—making her go back and forth, hesitant and torn—she felt way lighter and happier.

It wasn't about the final outcome or where things would go from here. Just being able to own up to what she felt and be honest with herself about what was in her heart was enough to set her mind at ease and keep her from having any regrets.

But that good mood vanished the second her feet hit flat ground at the foot of the mountain.

Because Jin Ping had sent her a message.

"You were out all night?"

Yin Jihong walked beside her and immediately caught the way her body tensed up. "What's wrong?"

Jin Mo looked up from her phone and gave him an awkward smile. "I'm busted."

Although the idea of going up the mountain in the middle of the night for "superstitious" purposes had been his, she was the one who'd insisted on staying to watch the sunrise.

In recent years, apart from traveling, she almost never stayed out all night. Even though she'd figured she might get caught, she really hadn't expected it to happen this fast.

Yin Jihong listened and smiled knowingly. "Uncle Jin's gonna lose it?"

"Probably." Jin Mo put away her phone and shrugged. "I'm guessing he's gonna bring up everything from the past too."

"Tell you what." Walking over to the car, he opened the door and deliberately raised his wrist, showing off the red-string bracelet. "Tell me what you wished for me, and I'll help you get through this. Deal?"

"..." Jin Mo gave him a look that said "are you serious?" and climbed straight into the car.

"So tight-lipped." Yin Jihong slid in after her, raising an eyebrow, looking amused. "Then just call me 'good big bro,' and I'll still help you."

Jin Mo rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. "..."

In the end, the guy had to find his own way out: "Fine, I'll help anyway. What can I say? Your bro Ji's just too handsome and kind-hearted."

Jin Mo figured he was joking—until he had Old Yang drive to the back gate of the Yin family estate.

The back gate was cracked open, and Deng Ying stood right by it, waving at the Rolls-Royce.

Jin Mo stared wide-eyed at the guy next to her, wondering what he was up to now.

Yin Jihong tilted his head toward her. "Hurry up. Uncle Jin and Aunt Jiang are gonna be here soon."

He'd always been a wild card, and the Yin family had long grown accustomed to it. But Jin Mo wasn't nearly as shameless as he was—every time she had to face Deng Ying, who was covering for them, she felt super awkward.

Deng Ying had always treated her like her own kid, and Jin Mo genuinely loved and respected her with all her heart. Deng Ying was the definition of a great mom—she'd been the finance director at Yin Corp back in the day and had stepped back in middle age to run the household and raise the kids.

She was gentle and sharp, and she got along with Yin Jihong like friends. Over the years, she'd quietly covered for them more times than anyone could count, and she was the one person in the Yin family who always had her son's back.

Yin Cheng wasn't stupid—of course he knew his wife was covering for Yin Jihong behind his back. But he happened to be "henpecked." As long as Deng Ying was protecting something, he never dared to say a word.

Walking up to Deng Ying, Jin Mo stuck out her tongue, looking sheepish. "...Aunt Deng, I'm sorry, I've troubled you again."

Deng Ying smiled warmly and ruffled her hair. "We're family—don't be so formal. You work so hard all year; going out to have fun during the New Year is perfectly normal. Go upstairs with Ji first, and I'll call you down when breakfast's ready."

Jin Mo: "Are Grandpa and Grandma still asleep?"

Deng Ying: "They woke up a while ago—they're messing around on their phones in their room."

Jin Mo went to her "own room" next to Yin Jihong's, took off her coat, hat, and scarf, washed her hands, and headed to the second floor to the room of Old Master Yin and Old Madam Yin.

After she knocked, the old man opened the door and his face immediately lit up. "Momo! You're here so early!"

Yin Jihong, following behind Jin Mo, said, "She came last night."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Last night? How come I didn't know?"

Yin Jihong snorted. "You were blasting those videos of pretty girls dancing on Douyin so loud, you couldn't have heard anything even if you tried."

The old man bristled. "Don't you try to pull that crap on me, you little punk! Did you take Momo out partying all night and just get back?"

Yin Jihong feigned shock. "Oh my god, old man, it's only been a few days and you're already that blind? Which eye of yours saw me take her out partying all night?"

The old man made a move to grab his whip. "You little bastard! Just you wait—I'll beat the crap out of you today!"

As if Yin Jihong was afraid of the old man—he simply shoved Jin Mo forward as a human shield, grabbing her shoulders and dodging left and right behind her.

Jin Mo couldn't help but laugh at this pair of equally matched live wires—grandfather and grandson—while also worrying about the old man's safety. She quickly blocked him. "Grandpa, don't lower yourself to his level. Your legs have been bothering you lately—let me give you a massage."

The old man was panting from trying to catch the one popping out from behind her, but at those words, he immediately set the whip down on the tea table, grabbed his cane and Jin Mo's hand, and headed downstairs. "Alright, alright, my little angel Momo is here. I won't waste my energy getting angry at that good-for-nothing!"

Watching the pair walk downstairs arm in arm, Yin Jihong smiled to himself. He greeted Old Madam Yin, who was feeding the fish in the room, then stepped aside and returned the call from Dan Jingchuan that had come in while they were in the car.

"Pothead." The call connected, and Yin Jihong lazily teased him. "You're something else! After working all night, you can still get up this early in the morning?"

Dan Jingchuan's icy voice came through. "I didn't sleep at all last night."

Yin Jihong whistled. "Working all night? Wouldn't have guessed—your scrawny frame can handle that?"

"Thanks to your phone call, I got punished with standing all night and did your work on top of that." Dan Jingchuan let out a cold laugh. "How do you plan to repay me?"

Yin Jihong grinned mischievously. "Want me to send you another blow-up doll?"

Dan Jingchuan: "..."

Dan Jingchuan couldn't be bothered to banter with this rascal and cut straight to the point. "Found them. The tall one is Yang Jin, son of the steel factory owner. The lipstick mark belongs to Wan Peng, son of the food processing factory owner. Both are second-generation factory heirs."

Yin Jihong snorted coldly. "These days, even second-generation factory heirs dare to act so arrogant in S City? With that attitude of theirs, should I be taking a stroll in outer space?"

Dan Jingchuan: "They're latching onto Shentu's coattails. With a big tree behind them, they've got good shade."

Shentu again.

The moment Yin Jihong heard that name, his brow furrowed into a knot. "Are the Shen family my stalker fans? I can't go anywhere without running into their people."

After teasing Dan Jingchuan a few more times—until he nearly drove the black-faced director to the point of jumping out of his skin—he turned and dialed Cheng Shu.

Cheng Shu, the nation's top-tier exemplary employee, fully embodied the 24-hour work system and picked up instantly. "President Yin."

"Notify every KTV in S City that will be open during the Spring Festival." He leaned one hand on the stair railing, looking down at Jin Mo in the living room, who was massaging the old man. "Ban Yang Jin and Wan Peng from entering for the entire Spring Festival period. I'll send you their information in a bit."

Cheng Shu didn't ask a single question about the reason—he only executed. "Understood."

"Let me think." He tapped his fingers lightly on the railing. "Ban them from the bars and bathhouses too."

"Got it."

"And massage parlors and private clubs."

"Okay."

Before hanging up, Cheng Shu tentatively asked, "CEO Yin, is there still room for negotiation on this year's new KPI targets?"

Yin Jihong smiled gently yet mercilessly. "No. Be a good boy, you've got this."

Cheng Shu: "..."

-

When Jin Ping and Jiang Ting walked in, Jin Mo was sitting at the dining table with the Yin family, having breakfast.

The moment they saw her, both froze slightly, clearly not expecting that their daughter, who had never come home the night before, was already settled here safe and sound.

Deng Ying smiled and rose to greet them. "Jin, Tingting, have a seat. I'll go to the kitchen and dish up your tangyuan."

Jin Mo obediently put down her spoon and said softly, "Dad, Mom."

Jin Ping exchanged greetings with Yin Cheng and the old master, but his gaze at Jin Mo remained tense, carrying obvious scrutiny.

Jiang Ting spoke first, looking puzzled, as if doubting whether her memory was failing her. "Momo, why are you here? I thought you came home last night, didn't you?"

Although Yin Jihong had already prepared a cover story for her, Jin Mo had never been good at lying. She barely parted her lips when Deng Ying gently interjected, "After they got back last night, they said they wanted to watch a movie at home, so Momo came over here. I guess she dozed off watching it and just ended up staying the night."

Yin Jihong chimed in with a smile. "Uncle Jin, Aunt Jiang, Momo really is a heavy sleeper. I was in the next room making phone calls and playing music, and she was snoring like a little piglet. I practically had to use a megaphone to wake her up for breakfast."

Deng Ying added smoothly, "I got busy and forgot to let you know."

The mother-son team covered for each other seamlessly, no holes in the story. Jin Ping, who clearly had doubts but couldn't bring himself to question them face-to-face, had no choice but to sit down at the table in a huff.

Jiang Ting said to Deng Ying, "Yingying, Momo's always putting you out. I'm really sorry."

"Don't say that to me." Deng Ying set the bowl and chopsticks in front of her. "Momo is so sensible and sweet. She'd never be any trouble."

"The little menace is sitting right next to her." Yin Cheng shot Yin Jihong a sour look. "If I could have a child as good as Momo, I'd probably be laughing in my sleep."

"Too late." Yin Jihong lounged lazily in his chair, long legs crossed. "Even if you could shove me back in the womb, no guarantee the next one wouldn't still be me."

Yin Cheng got so mad he nearly choked on his tangyuan.

"Or how about this—" Yin Jihong piled it on, "why don't you just adopt her as your own daughter."

With her actual parents right there, he had the nerve to run his mouth like that. Yin Cheng wished he could strangle him on the spot. Fortunately, Deng Ying quickly stepped in to smooth things over. "I've watched Momo grow up since she was a kid. I've long treated her as my own daughter. No need for all that."

Grandma Yin chuckled and added, "Exactly. Momo and Ji have been inseparable since they were kids. I always used to hope they'd end up together when they grew up."

The old lady, advanced in years and with failing eyesight, didn't catch the subtle shift in everyone's faces around the table.

Jin Mo lowered her head to eat her tangyuan, but her lashes fluttered almost imperceptibly.

Yin Jihong remained in his usual carefree demeanor, but the guy who usually fired back at anyone who needled him now just smiled and said nothing.

Jin Ping, who had been silent all along, finally couldn't hold back and spoke slowly. "But Momo's a grown woman now, at marriageable age. Even if they're close, there are boundaries between men and women. It's not really appropriate for her to keep imposing on Ji and your family."

"What's so inappropriate about it!" Old Master Yin tapped his cane on the floor with a thud. "I've spoiled Momo rotten since she was little, way more than that little rascal of mine. I love having her around this house all day."

Even if Jin Ping was now successful and influential outside, he wouldn't dare get out of line in front of the old man.

After all, when Old Master Yin was dominating S City back in the day, Jin Ping was still a twinkle in somebody's eye.

Old Master Yin was the backbone of S City. As long as he was alive, he was the unshakable force no one dared cross.

"Ping, you've lived all these years and learned nothing."

The old man didn't spare Jin Ping's feelings in front of everyone. "Can you stop being so old-fashioned and stuck in the past! They're both single now. What's wrong with them hanging out together all day? What's all this nonsense about men and women having to keep their distance?"

Jin Ping moved his lips. "I'm just worried Momo might hurt Ji's chances of finding a girlfriend. If other girls see how close they are, they'll get the wrong idea."

"I don't give a damn if they're comfortable!" The old master thundered. "If a girl's that petty, she's not setting foot in this house. If this rascal is going to find someone, he'd better bring back a girl like Momo. Any other demon or monster that dares set foot in this house, I'll shoot 'em dead!"

At that, Jin Ping's face went red, then green.

The old man made it sound like a passing remark, but reading between the lines, there was something more to it.

Like he was hinting he wanted Yin Jihong to marry Jin Mo.

Jin Ping forced a stiff smile. "Uncle Yin, you're overselling Momo. Ji's so impressive—he could have any girl he wants."

Old Master Yin was most annoyed by that fake-humble tone of his, and replied sarcastically, "Enough. I know you think my rascal isn't good enough for Momo!"

Jin Ping quickly waved his hands. "No, no, that's not it at all—"

The old master cut him off loudly. "Put your mind at ease! They've grown up like brother and sister. A guy who'd go after his own sister—that's just animal behavior!"

Jin Mo listened to the back-and-forth between the old master and Jin Ping without making a sound, never once lifting her head to look at anyone's face at the table.

It felt like she was always hearing people define her and Yin Jihong as "brother and sister." Whether acquaintances or strangers, everyone loved to slap that label on the two of them.

But just then, the person beside her slowly set down his chopsticks.

The next second, Yin Jihong spoke casually. "Grandpa."

He never addressed Old Master Yin formally with "Grandpa." It was always "Old Ancestor" or "Old Rascal," and every time it earned him a beating.

Hearing him suddenly so serious, the old man sensed where this was going and didn't like it. He glared at him. "...What?"

"I'm just saying—don't go making promises you can't keep." Yin Jihong's tone was light. "Even if Uncle Jin is family, don't go making bold promises on my behalf."

The old man sensed the direction of his words shifting dangerously, but before he could stop him, the next words came tumbling out without a care in the world: "They all call me a rascal, so you all better watch out."

"Maybe I actually like being an animal."

Jin Mo's hand, clutching her spoon, jerked hard, almost sending it flying off the table, and her cheeks instantly went hot.

She couldn't help but turn to look at the man beside her.

There he was, still sprawled lazily in his chair, a careless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. After dropping a line like that, he didn't seem scared in the least.

He was always joking around, never holding back on dirty jokes, never showing an ounce of restraint in front of his elders. But even as a joke, that was way over the line.

Who makes jokes like that?

While Jin Mo's brain was short-circuiting, Jin Ping's face had already gone completely dark, and even Jiang Ting was stunned.

Yin Cheng's expression had never been great, but he was watching him with a hint of curiosity. Deng Ying wanted to smooth things over but had no idea where to begin, so she could only look away, at her wit's end.

It was the oldest person at the table who had the biggest reaction.

The old man was so mad his whole face went red up to his ears. He raised his cane and swung it at the kid. "I'll beat you within an inch of your life!"

"Save your strength." Yin Jihong casually reached out, snatched the cane from the old man's hand, and took it into his own, his tone languid as he smoothly pivoted away from his earlier wild claim. "If you've got the energy to swing at me, put it into spoiling your precious granddaughter instead. She's got something big weighing on her."

Old Master Yin whipped around to Jin Mo, asking urgently, "What's wrong with my precious granddaughter?"

Jin Mo shook off her tangled shock, just as confused, and gave Yin Jihong a puzzled look.

Then Yin Jihong drawled, "She's about to lose the job she actually loves. Isn't that a big deal?"

Old Master Yin's eyes bulged. "She can't do the job she wants?! What's going on? Are they in the Publicity Department really daring to fire you? Momo, which bastard's got the guts to mess with you? I'll make them pay!"

Jin Ping, the "bastard" in question, was left speechless.

"It's not the Publicity Department that's firing her." Yin Jihong's tone was calm, but every word hit the mark. "Word from my contacts is the higher-ups might think she's too good and want to transfer her to another department."

Jin Mo's heart skipped a beat as she finally caught his drift.

His words didn't throw Jin Ping under the bus, saving him from embarrassment, while putting her dilemma out in the open for all to see, using the old master's clout to have her back.

Even though Old Master Yin was well past his prime, if he decided to step in, what department head wouldn't show him some respect? Keeping Jin Mo's job in the Publicity Department would be a cakewalk.

Even if Jin Ping wanted to push the transfer again, one word from the old master meant he couldn't touch her for now, and would have to wait for another opportunity later.

She fully got his thoughtful game, and her heart felt like it was soaking in warm, sweet syrup—soft and sugary.

The old master then softened his tone and asked her gently, "Momo, tell Grandpa the truth. Do you want to stay in the Publicity Department, or would you like to try another department?"

Jin Mo glanced at Jin Ping, whose face was a mess of emotions, and said slowly, "Grandpa, I want to stay in the Publicity Department. I really love it there, and I feel like I've still got a ton to learn."

The old master smacked his thigh. "Good! With that from you, Grandpa promises, no one can touch you. I may be old, but I'm not six feet under yet! Keeping your job is a piece of cake for me."

Jin Mo acted like she didn't see Jin Ping's pale face and said to the old master with a bright smile, "Thank you, Grandpa!"

Yin Jihong clapped along with a smirk. "Grandpa's the man!"

The old master shot back without turning around. "Shut it."

-

New Year's Eve was all about family—everyone huddled together, eating from morning to night.

Jin Mo's family had few relatives, and none were in S City, so every year they headed to the Yin household with Jin Ping and Jiang Ting. This year, besides the Yin family's cook and Chef Luo, who'd served the old man for decades, Yin Cheng, Deng Ying, and the rest were all planning to show off their cooking for the New Year's Eve feast.

After breakfast, the older folks got busy in the kitchen, prepping the big lunch and dinner, while Jin Mo and Yin Jihong hung out in the living room with Old Master Yin and Old Madam Yin.

Jin Mo was patient by nature and never got tired of teaching the old folks new tricks.

Old Madam Yin had bad eyes, so Jin Mo had taught her to enjoy audiobooks and music. Old Master Yin loved scrolling Douyin, which she'd also taught him, and now she was patiently walking him through Weibo and Little Red Book.

Yin Jihong sat nearby, doing jack squat, just cracking jokes and teasing, until Old Master Yin wanted to grab his whip again, so he headed to the kitchen for a drink.

The second he opened the fridge, Yin Cheng was on his case again, saying he'd wreck his stomach drinking nothing but cold stuff.

Yin Jihong cracked open a can of cola, leaned against the fridge, and said offhandedly, "You drink tea all day, but you're not immortal. You've still got crow's feet for days."

Yin Cheng was gutting fish and didn't look up. "Piss off."

Deng Ying, washing veggies nearby, warned Yin Jihong, "Stop provoking your dad. He's been complaining his chest's been hurting lately."

"Really?" Yin Jihong took a sip of cola. "Did I do that? Am I really that good?"

"Heh." Yin Cheng snorted. "Is there anyone else on this planet with that kind of talent?"

Yin Jihong said leisurely, "Sometimes you've gotta learn to make peace with yourself. You see everything about me as wrong, so of course you're angry all the time. Try seeing me from a different angle—maybe you'll be thrilled."

Yin Cheng raised the cleaver. "No thrill here, just a heap of rage."

Yin Jihong then sauntered off, all chill.

Jin Ping, who'd caught the whole exchange, chimed in. "Cheng, your heart been acting up lately? Want me to recommend a good doctor for you to see?"

Yin Cheng continued chopping the fish, and from that angle, no one could see the slight frown caused by a sudden pang of pain. He just said flatly, "Already seen one. Nothing major. That brat annoying me less would be better than any miracle cure."

With so many people in the house, a hearty lunch didn't take long to prepare.

After lunch, Old Madam Yin felt sleepy and said she wanted to go upstairs for a nap. Jin Mo offered to give her a massage in bed, and once the old lady fell asleep, she could catch up on some rest herself.

After all, she had been up all night, and even a brief nap couldn't fend off the overwhelming drowsiness after a good meal.

Old Master Yin had had a bit of wine at lunch and was full of energy, dragging Yin Jihong to play a couple of rounds of chess to satisfy his craving.

Yin Jihong hadn't slept a wink all night and had even carried Jin Mo up the mountain. It would be a lie to say he wasn't tired, but seeing the old master's enthusiasm, he slowly sat down at the chessboard.

As soon as the old master set up the pieces, he said, "Let's get this straight first—when I wipe the floor with you later, don't go crying like Momo does."

The old master laughed in exasperation and tapped his forehead. "Nonsense! Do you think I'm someone who can't take a loss?"

"Hard to say." He toyed with a chess piece. "You might get carried away, roll on the floor, and beg me to go easy on you."

"Enough with you!" The old master's beard twitched. "What are you showing off for? You were indeed skilled at chess back in school, but these past few years you've been busy with work. When have you had time to hone your skills? How could you possibly beat me?"

Yin Jihong shrugged. "If you're that confident, that's a good thing."

The first game ended faster than expected.

The old master stared at his cornered position on the board, mouth agape, as if he couldn't believe it. "Yin Jihong! Are you cheating? When did you quietly move this piece here!?"

Yin Jihong yawned lightly. "Want another round?"

The old master stomped his foot hard and snorted in defiance. "Of course! This is nothing! It doesn't count!"

But after three games, Old Master Yin was still thoroughly defeated, and each game ended faster than the last. In the final game, Yin Jihong had nearly closed both eyes, yet still crushed the old master completely.

The old master stood up from his chair, staring at the board from every angle with a deep frown, unable to figure out how, despite always moving before Yin Jihong, he kept getting overtaken without realizing it.

"Old rascal, does this count now?" Yin Jihong propped his chin on one hand, teasing. "It's New Year's—don't go looking for trouble. Go upstairs and scroll through Douyin; it's better than getting humiliated here by me."

The old master could tell from his effortless demeanor that this brat hadn't even used a third of his full strength.

Just as the old master was about to insist on another game, Jin Ping suddenly walked over and sat down across from Yin Jihong. "Uncle Yin, take a break. Let me have a game with Ji."

Yin Jihong, who had been on the verge of dozing off, lifted his eyelids slightly, his lazy gaze landing on Jin Ping.

Jin Ping gathered the pieces on the board and said calmly, "Ji, no need to go easy on me. Give it your all."

Yin Jihong adjusted his posture, sitting up straighter, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Uncle Jin, I'll do my best."

The old master, who had been sulking a moment ago, perked up immediately. He fetched a small stool and sat down, muttering to himself, "Too bad Momo went for her nap. That girl's missing out on a fortune."

Jin Ping's chess style was completely different from the old master's. Despite his age, the old master played wildly—aggressive and sharp, always pressing hard without hesitation.

No wonder the old master always said Yin Jihong probably took after him, with his flamboyant style matching his younger days perfectly, a stark contrast to the steady and composed Yin Cheng.

Jin Ping, much like Yin Cheng, played with rock-solid steadiness. Every move was conservative and cautious—seeming passive but guarding every angle, leaving his opponent no opening to exploit.

As a result, when he faced off against Yin Jihong, the pace of the game slowed way down.

The entire match was a tug-of-war, neither side giving an inch. If Jin Ping took a piece, Yin Jihong would immediately catch up; conversely, if Yin Jihong edged ahead, Jin Ping quickly reclaimed the ground.

"Ji." Mid-game, Jin Ping picked up a piece, his fingertips pausing briefly as he spoke slowly, "You must have read plenty of military strategy books, haven't you? Judging by your moves, you've got the Thirty-Six Stratagems down to a T."

"Not at all," Yin Jihong said casually. "I wish I had the time."

"Is that so?" Jin Ping set down his piece. "You're pretty slick with 'killing with a borrowed knife' and 'feinting east while striking west.'"

The second Jin Ping said that, Yin Jihong knew he was hinting at how he had used the old master's hand to help Jin Mo resolve her transfer crisis. But playing dumb was his go-to move, so he feigned embarrassment and scratched his head: "You're too kind, Uncle Jin. I'm just winging it."

The old master watching from the sidelines was loving it, even grabbing a handful of melon seeds to munch on.

Though the match was nearly dead even, with neither side getting the upper hand, in the end, Yin Jihong eked out a narrow win with a risky move.

Jin Ping rose from his chair with composure after losing and said to Yin Jihong, "Ji, your chess skills are just as good as when you were a kid—even better. I can't keep up with you."

Yin Jihong stood up as well, his tone humble: "Uncle Jin was going easy on me. I just got lucky."

Jin Ping smiled faintly, but his tone shifted: "You play a mean game of chess, and you're just as sharp in your career. Momo still has a lot to learn from you."

Yin Jihong smiled too. "Uncle Jin flatters me. Anything I know, I'll teach Momo—no holding back. She's really sharp—she picks up everything in no time."

"Mm." Jin Ping acknowledged, but his expression gradually turned serious. "But no matter how smart she is, at the end of the day, she's still a woman. For a girl, career comes second. What matters most is finding a good family, living a stable life, and not having to bust her ass out there."

The smile on Yin Jihong's face faded fast at those words, and the warmth in his eyes slowly drained away.

Just as he was about to fire back with a snappy retort, Jin Ping raised a hand and lightly patted his shoulder, his tone seemingly gentle but leaving no room for argument: "You know many people. You can help Momo vet some candidates and set her up with a great guy."

With that, Jin Ping turned and went off to find Yin Cheng and the others for a mahjong game.

Yin Jihong stood by the chessboard, his smile frozen, a cold irritation churning in his eyes that even he hadn't noticed.

"Tsk." The old master, who'd been thoroughly enjoying the show, also got up. He tapped Yin Jihong's leg—the guy who almost never got the short end of the stick—with his cane, his tone light with amusement: "With that attitude, your dream father-in-law will never let you set foot in his house. Good luck with that!"

Yin Jihong pressed his lips together, not saying anything at first.

Just as the old master was about to head upstairs for a nap, Yin Jihong suddenly called out, "Old rascal."

The old master turned around. "What?"

Yin Jihong said with a straight face, pointing off in some direction: "Look, there's a hot girl over there in a cheongsam holding a fan!"

He said it with such conviction, hitting every keyword that lit up the old man's brain. Instantly, the old man craned his neck and squinted in the direction he pointed: "Where?"

"Over there."

The old man stood on his tiptoes, scanning for a good while—but there wasn't even a bird at the door.

By the time he snapped out of it, Yin Jihong had already vanished without a trace.

Realizing he'd been played, the old man stood there fuming, waving his cane and cursing: "Yin Jihong, you bastard! Just wait till I get my hands on you!"

-

After massaging Grandma Yin into a peaceful sleep, Jin Mo quietly closed the door behind her and returned to her "personal room" in the Yin estate.

She turned on the floor heating and slipped under the covers, finding the bedding smelling faintly fresh with that warm, sun-dried scent—she knew right away that Deng Ying had washed and sun-dried it, keeping it ready for her visits.

Ever since she was a kid, this guest room next to Yin Jihong's had been her own little sanctuary. The room was scattered with her clothes and stuff, and even her homework and test papers from her school days were still on the bookshelf—every corner was marked with her presence.

Before she got into college, she'd spent most of her time in this house. But after she grew up, whether out of propriety, some unspoken unease in her heart, or Jin Ping not wanting her to keep running over to the Yin estate, she came by less and less.

Only during holidays could she, under the pretense of courtesy, step back into this place that felt like her second home, just like when she was a kid.

Warm sunlight filtered through the half-open curtains, and Jin Mo soon fell sound asleep.

When she woke again, it was because something was tickling her face—something soft and fuzzy brushing against her.

She forced her eyes open, and the first thing she saw was a gray plush rabbit—one of her most treasured stuffed animals from childhood.

"It's already pitch black outside, and you're still asleep."

Yin Jihong had been crouching by her bed for who knows how long, pinching the rabbit's ear between his fingers as he drawled lazily, "You really should change your name to Piggy."

Jin Mo glanced at her watch and was shocked to see it was already past seven o'clock. She scrambled to sit up in bed.

In her rush, her loose sweater slipped a little, revealing a sliver of her delicate collarbone and the clean lines of her swan neck.

Yin Jihong's gaze involuntarily lingered on her collarbone for a second, and when he looked up again, his eyes had darkened almost imperceptibly.

"Are Grandpa and the others starving by now? They haven't been waiting for me to eat, have they?"

She'd set an alarm before falling asleep, but the blanket was so warm she must have turned it off half-asleep.

"I don't know if they're hungry," he said, standing up and looking down at her. "But I am."

"Then hurry up and go downstairs." She didn't catch the hidden meaning in his words at all, swinging her legs off the bed and throwing on her jacket as she headed out. "Grandpa and the others must be getting impatient. Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

Yin Jihong didn't say anything.

Just as Jin Mo was about to reach the door, she heard him speak slowly behind her:

"Momo."

She turned around, looking puzzled. "Huh?"

He walked toward her, one step at a time.

His tall frame loomed over her, casting her entirely in his shadow and blocking out all the warm light in the room.

Jin Mo's heart inexplicably skipped a beat as she heard him speak in a lazy tone, each word crystal clear:

"From now on, remember to lock the door when you sleep."

She froze, not quite processing.

The next second, she heard him repeat, in a low, drawn-out voice, the words that had stunned everyone at the dinner table earlier:

"Didn't I say—maybe I'd just like being a beast."

——————————

Author's Note:

First, about the update schedule: tomorrow is still midnight~ 6k+ more! Hehehe! Brave Sang! Red envelopes will still be dropping randomly! Please keep hitting me with bookmarks, comments, and nutrient solutions~ Love you all! Also, don't forget to bookmark my column! And feel free to check out my next new book in the column, *The Crane*, a Beijing circle story (might also switch to a Beijing circle ensemble piece)—either way, it's mature men and women with plenty of spice, haha.

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, Yin Puppy! You really just said that out loud?! Is that even something you can say?! Well then, why don't you elaborate? Don't treat everyone like strangers! How exactly do you want to be a beast? Your own mom can help make your dreams come true!!!!

Momo: ???

This chapter really has so much info!!! Grandpa Yin is seriously adorable haha! I love how he and Puppy go at each other! Puppy's temper has to be inherited from his grandpa, right!! Haha, and Boss Yin, forget the second male lead as a strong rival for now—first of all, your future father-in-law can't stand you. You're so done for, man! You're truly caught between a rock and a hard place, and winning her back is gonna be a long, tough road. I'll give you 10 seconds of sympathy (Yin Puppy: Why do I feel like you're enjoying this so much?

Puppy: Momo got me a red string!! Ahh!!! (Showing off to the whole world)

Sang: So what? Let me ask you—do you have a wife now?

Puppy: ...Get lost!

Looking forward to everyone's comments haha! I love reading your fired-up comments and reviews the most.