This man was never earnest. Even the most urgent matters were brushed off with a casual “It’s nothing” or “It’s fine.” If pressed further, he would laugh lazily, with the kind of mischief that infuriated her. Kuang Meiying didn’t like him this way at all—she could never fathom his true thoughts. Wei Biao made her feel more secure.
Jiang Lian was still smiling, though his attitude finally seemed more proper: “Meiying, let me ask you, if a person carelessly smashes a pearl, what does that indicate?”
“It means the pearl has no value to her.”
“What else?”
“Or the pearl is bad, irritates her when she looks at it, she doesn’t like it, her temper is bad, she’s taking out her anger on the pearl, and also…”
Kuang Meiying couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.
Wei Biao said in a deep voice: “Wealthy, willful, has many pearls! Someone with a basin of pearls won’t care about breaking eight or ten.”
Jiang Lian murmured: “That’s what I thought too.”
As for this mirage pearl, he didn’t know if it was valuable. However, if it was unique—the only one in the world—even the most volatile person wouldn’t destroy it so casually, right? Moreover, after Liu Sheng was killed, Meng Qianzi had listened to his lengthy self-defense from beginning to end—her temper couldn’t be that explosive.
Mountain ghosts called lanterns with pictures “Mountain Mirage Towers” and had specialized tools for “fishing mirage pearls,” yet after obtaining one, they casually destroyed it…
This might mean that mountain ghosts had more mirage pearls, perhaps not just one. And he happened to desperately need a Mirage pearl.
Given Old Ga’s portrayal of the mountain ghosts’ influence, stealing or forcibly taking one seemed unrealistic. Therefore, establishing a good relationship with Meng Qianzi became necessary.
If she asked him to do something, he would do it—eagerly, actively, cooperatively, impressively. Without solid friendship paving the way, how could he comfortably ask to borrow one?
Meng Qianzi, accompanied by Meng Jinsong and Xin Ci, was heading to the medical room. As they descended to the second floor, they encountered Jiang Lian.
Jiang Lian was a bit surprised but quickly smiled, politely raising his hand in greeting: “Good morning, Meng…”
Meng Qianzi acted as if she hadn’t seen him, walking stiffly past. The two behind her naturally wouldn’t stop either. Jiang Lian felt as if a small whirlwind had passed by, with the side of his eye closest to her slightly narrowing from the chilly aura.
Nevertheless, he completed his wave to the empty air, even inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment, as if Meng Qianzi had politely returned his greeting.
Meng Jinsong was accustomed to Meng Qianzi’s behavior, but Xin Ci felt somewhat embarrassed, forgetting the head-smacking pain from the night before yesterday: “Qianzi, isn’t this a bit impolite?”
Polite?
One corner of Meng Qianzi’s mouth twitched: “Have I ever been friendly to him?”
Xin Ci answered truthfully: “No.”
“Then that settles it. Being good to someone is mutual. I’m not good to him, his swollen face hasn’t even healed yet, so why is he eagerly trying to be nice? Unsolicited favors are either treacherous or thieving.”
Xin Ci wanted to say that perhaps he was being magnanimous, but swallowed his words: taking sides with an outsider while on Qianzi’s payroll would show unclear loyalty.
The medical room was at the end of the first floor, heavy with the smell of medicine. Two guards patrolling the corridor saw Meng Qianzi approaching, stepped aside, and bowed their heads until she passed before continuing. Though they didn’t whisper to each other, their expressions were rich, continuously exchanging glances, presumably silently critiquing her.
The door was open. Inside, all irrelevant furnishings had been removed, replaced with various medical equipment. Though small, it was fully equipped, probably cramming ear, nose, throat, internal, and external departments together. Besides the bed where Bai Shuixiao lay, there was a mobile operating table—fully equipped overnight, showcasing not only the miraculous power of money but also the clever efficiency of the Gui Mountain Retreat people.
The attending physician inside hurried to the door: “She’s still unconscious, currently receiving IV fluids to prevent infection.”
Meng Qianzi looked toward Bai Shuixiao lying on the bed: “I heard she woke up once. What was her condition then?”
“Extremely weak, speaking feebly, having difficulty moving.”
Meng Jinsong said quietly, “As long as she can speak, that’s fine. She saw the mysterious person’s face. When she wakes up, I want to arrange for a sketch to be made.”
A criminal sketch? This seemed like a technical job. Meng Qianzi frowned slightly: “Do we have such professionals?”
“We have a simulated portrait expert, though not locally. We can do it remotely, but he said face-to-face communication would be best. He suggested finding someone here who can draw, to sketch based on Bai Shuixiao’s description first, while he uses professional software to assist from his end—it would be more efficient. I asked Jiang Lian…”
“Him?”
With his scribble-like devil writing?
Meng Jinsong laughed: “Actually, with divine eyes pasted, he can draw very precisely, but only things he’s seen personally. So, he recommended Kuang Meiying, saying the girl has drawn since childhood, has practiced hundreds of portraits, and should be up to the task.”
Seeing the conversation was going well, the physician tactfully retreated into the room.
The doorway had been quite blocked before, with Meng Jinsong and the physician both being large men. Xin Ci, blocked in the back row, couldn’t see much even on tiptoes. Now with one person gone, the view suddenly cleared…
His heart skipped a beat, and he blurted out: “It’s her!”
The way he said it, Meng Qianzi thought he was surprised about Kuang Meiying. Following his gaze, she realized he meant Bai Shuixiao and asked curiously: “You know her?”
Xin Ci realized his inappropriate reaction and stammered an explanation: “No, I don’t know her. Yesterday she came… came to the dinner, right? I just saw her, don’t know her, never spoke to her, just… she looked familiar, so I recognized her.”
Xin Ci normally spoke so fluently, yet now his tongue was tripping—utterly unprecedented—and his explanation was incoherent…
Meng Qianzi glanced at him, noticing him licking his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and a slight flush on his face.
She made an “Oh” sound, withdrew her gaze, and said coolly: “If any little flame is sprouting in your heart, extinguish it early. This woman isn’t suitable for you.”
Xin Ci absently made an affirmative sound, then realized what he’d done: “No, I just saw her yesterday, have a slight impression, what are you talking about?”
Meng Qianzi ignored him, but Meng Jinsong placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding toward Bai Shuixiao: “The one she’s following, you can’t compare to and can’t compete with. Pull back from the cliff’s edge, don’t fall in.”
Xin Ci shrugged off Meng Jinsong’s hand with a lowered shoulder: “How boring.”