Chapter 21

Ruan Zhen was taken aback, not quite grasping what Song Shuling meant.

See him for what?

At this hour, shouldn’t it be the time for the uncle and nephew to have their educational session? Although the thought of Song Chunfeng’s face made him feel a bit nauseous, he found it hard to believe that such a despicable person was worth educating. He might as well be written off.

It was quite remarkable how the author, in crafting this old-fashioned, trope-filled melodrama, had set up the protagonist with such low moral boundaries, with all the plot twists serving only to drive the story forward, purely to satisfy his own personal quirks.

So, Song Chunfeng was just plain evil.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The water truck passed by, darkening the road, and the air was filled with a damp, refreshing scent. The branches of the street trees grew wildly, casting shadows that were full of comfort.

On the phone, Song Shuling’s magnetic voice asked, “Do you want to see him?”

Perhaps the pleasant scenery lifted his mood, and Ruan Zhen strolled along the sidewalk. “We’ve already met before… Why now?”

He was referring to Song Shuling’s visit to Liupo Alley to see Zhang Laotou.

“That was because I needed to investigate something,” Song Shuling admitted frankly. “Your background is so sparse, I’m quite curious.”

“Please.”

Ruan Zhen crushed a leaf under his foot. “If you had checked my identity before the marriage, that would have been fine. But now that the person is dead, you’re thinking of checking up on me?”

The other side acknowledged, “Yes, so in my heart, I went to see your grandfather as Song Qinwen’s younger brother.”

This wolf in sheep’s clothing was still putting on an act.

Ruan Zhen’s lips curled in mockery. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes,”

This time, the answer was less straightforward, tinged with a heavy laugh.

“I saw a photo of you as a child, wearing a dress and hugging a doll.”

Ruan Zhen’s steps faltered.

Song Shuling continued, “And another one where you were crying… lying on the ground, thrashing and rolling. The old man said it was because you had a race with a dog and lost…”

Before he could finish, the call was abruptly hung up, with a decisive click.

His pride was hurt, and he was angry.

In the dial tone, Song Shuling’s thumb rubbed the edge of his phone, the unspoken words lingering on his lips.

“You were very cute.”

The car window rose, hiding the man’s handsome profile and his smiling eyes.

Even if Ruan Zhen was angry, he still had to say it; the trip had been truly fruitful.

Song Shuling understood why Ruan Zhen’s background was so sparse, just a thin sheet of paper. His life and experiences were not written in cold, clinical background checks but were captured in faded photos and objects marked by the passage of time.

“This little basket, he made it himself… the child’s hands were so tender, and he couldn’t weave well, so he cried, but after crying, he would try again. When he finished, he was so happy, he even laughed with a runny nose.”

Song Shuling examined the nearly disintegrated basket. “Did he cry a lot?”

“No,” Zhang Laotou waved his hand. “He cried as a child, but he lacked a sense of security. He was handsome, and sometimes the bad kids would bully him. He wouldn’t fight back or tell me, afraid I would get into a fight.”

At this, he sighed, his face etched with worry.

“Later, when he grew older, I asked him, and he said he wasn’t afraid anymore. He wanted to eat more and grow taller, just like the big brother who helped him, to be a kind person… Teacher, don’t tell him this, he’s very shy!”

People of this age have a natural respect and trust for a child’s teacher, and they would spill their hearts without any prompting.

Song Shuling smiled but didn’t respond.

He remembered the red string on Ruan Zhen’s wrist, with a small peach pit carved into a basket shape.

He had come with suspicion, subtly probing and coldly observing this family, but what he received was warm tea, the affection of a yellow dog, and the traces of Ruan Zhen’s life.

The investigation was correct.

Ruan Zhen was just an ordinary child, not entangled in any business rivalries as he had suspected.

Like that day when he had stripped off his clothes with such ease.

Born naked.

Why fear the gaze of others?

The true shame was not Ruan Zhen’s, but those who watched him through a mirror.

Song Shuling’s gaze shifted from the rearview mirror, his deep brown eyes calm as he turned the steering wheel.

He didn’t go home but drove around for a while.

It was already dusk when Song Shuling finished his business, placing a brown bag of files on the passenger seat and driving to the Song residence.

He had a unique trait; Song Shuling enjoyed driving himself.

He was addicted to the sense of control.

Whether it was martial arts, operating machinery, or piloting a plane or yacht, Song Shuling found complete satisfaction in his heart.

The family seemed to keep their distance from him.

Because he had no weaknesses, Third Master Song was made of steel, no matter how polite and refined he appeared on the surface, he was a gentle killer at heart.

There was a young girl in the family, not yet grown, who was very spoiled. She had read a pile of messy novels somewhere and joked, “Uncle, you’re so cool!”

She also said, “But why are you still single? Are your glands not mature yet at thirty?”

Song Shuling didn’t quite understand, thinking it was just a child’s nonsense.

But at this moment, he inexplicably remembered her words, perhaps because he saw a pomegranate tree by the roadside, its flowers red and bright, even in the night, and in autumn, the pomegranates would be plump and sweet.

He had planned to have dinner with Ruan Zhen and then return to see his nephew.

He sensed that Ruan Zhen liked sweet dishes, and a friend had just opened a restaurant that served Hangzhou-style cuisine with a sweet touch. He wondered if they added sugar to the stir-fried tomatoes and eggs.

He always felt he owed Ruan Zhen that dish.

Maybe next time.

The car drove onto the lush lawn, the green gradually receding to reveal a fountain amidst the dense foliage. The butler wasn’t at the gate, only the security guards were there to open the door.

He didn’t plan to drive in.

Not having informed the family in advance, Song Shuling put his hand in his pocket, his suit jacket casually draped over his elbow, and started to walk.

He stopped after a few steps.

Not far away, the Song family villa was emitting thick black smoke from the second floor.

He ran a few steps and grabbed a familiar gardener. “What’s happening?”

“Ah, Third Lord?”

The night was dark, and with the many flowers around, the gardener hadn’t noticed Song Shuling’s arrival and was startled. “The First Young Master’s room is on fire, but don’t worry, it’s been put out!”

It looked like there was no visible fire, and Song Shuling was somewhat relieved. “Is anyone hurt?”

The gardener hesitated. “I heard… Little Madam was in the room, I don’t know if she got out.”

Song Shuling was stunned, his grip loosening.

“It was the First Young Master who said it!”

The gardener quickly added, “We didn’t dare to go in. The fire wasn’t big, it must be fine—”

But he could only see Song Shuling’s back.

Running quickly, even a well-trained person started to pant. Song Shuling took large strides up the steps and saw Song Chunfeng standing at the door, holding a phone and shouting something. Several burly bodyguards stood around, all standing at attention.

“Yes, the hospital is taken care of… I trust you to handle it!”

Song Chunfeng was speaking cheerfully when he caught sight of a familiar figure. Before he could react, he was grabbed by the collar.

“Where is he?”

Song Shuling almost lifted him off the ground. “I asked, where is the person inside?”

“Clunk.”

Song Chunfeng’s hand trembled, and his phone fell to the ground, rolling down the steps, the screen shattering.

“Third Uncle…”

He swallowed hard. “Please, listen to me…”

Meanwhile, the phone with the shattered screen was still on the call, and a strange male voice came through clearly.

“First Young Master, it’s about time, the person should be dead by now!”

Song Chunfeng’s face turned red with anger. “Let me explain…”

Before he could finish, Song Shuling slapped him and ran upstairs.

There was still time.

Song Chunfeng was dazed from the blow, taking a moment to turn his head. He touched his chin, which was bleeding profusely.

To keep the news from spreading, he had sent the servants away on various excuses. Now, the Song residence was guarded only by his bodyguards.

They stood still, not moving an inch.

Well-trained dogs, they would follow orders without question, and seeing their master beaten to the point of bleeding from the nose and mouth, they didn’t even look up without being told.

Song Chunfeng raised his arm to wipe the blood.

Third Uncle’s hand was too harsh, even without full strength, his ears were ringing.

The blood kept flowing, as if it would never stop.

He suddenly remembered how, when he was intimate with someone in his car, sometimes he would encounter someone with a fiery temper, kicking and biting. In such moments, Song Chunfeng would often become even more excited, willing to play along, even without lowering the partition.

A new bodyguard hesitated, unsure whether to intervene.

Song Chunfeng threw an ashtray at him. “Don’t ruin my fun!”

Perfect, this was exactly the effect he wanted.

He stepped down the stairs, picked up the shattered phone, and the blood had soaked his shirt, still dripping onto the ground.

The call was still connected, and the other side seemed to realize something was wrong, only the sound of suppressed breathing could be heard.

He forced a smile. “Hello?”

The world seemed to warp before his eyes.

Why—

No matter what, he was the First Young Master of the Song family, the nominal successor… No, he was already the undisputed ruler!

No matter how capable Song Shuling was, he had no descendants, so everything he had earned would be his, wouldn’t it?

They were family, why wouldn’t they help him?

Why would they turn against him?

Song Chunfeng’s thoughts were simple. This young singer had no parents, no relatives to care about him, working hard every day like a dog, earning so little, what a miserable life!

And he looked a bit like Ruan Zhen.

What was the difference between an accident and an opportunity? Ruan Zhen had dared to throw excrement at his face, why shouldn’t he seek revenge?

If this young singer died in the fire, it would be the perfect opportunity to replace him with Ruan Zhen, claiming Little Madam had died in an accident.

They looked alike, and with a bit of manipulation, it could be a perfect deception.

He could then eliminate Ruan Zhen’s existence.

Song Chunfeng had it all planned out. He had a basement in his house, perfect for locking Ruan Zhen away, where he could do whatever he wanted. From then on, there would be no Ruan Zhen to challenge him—

To strip him of his legal identity.

And this young singer, who could be bought off with a small sum, was at the bottom of society, a nobody.

To be buried in a high-end grave arranged by Song Shuling would be his good fortune.

But why did Third Uncle show up?

The situation seemed to be spiraling out of control.

The other side asked cautiously, “First Young Master, did something go wrong?”

Song Chunfeng stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the second-floor window with a venomous gaze.

His room still had books, antiques, and some unique decorations.

If they were destroyed, it didn’t matter, right?

After all, Third Uncle would have better collections, and it would be a happy accident.

Song Chunfeng whispered, “Yes, so now, no need to put out the fire—”

He pulled at his broken lip.

“Bring Little Madam here.”

—

The vast villa was eerily empty. As soon as he rushed into the first-floor living room, the acrid smoke hit him.

Song Shuling had already soaked his clothes in water.

The fire was in the second-floor bedroom, the door tightly shut, black smoke seeping through the cracks.

“Bang! Bang!”

Song Shuling had called for help earlier and now raised the fire extinguisher, smashing at the door lock, which was starting to deform from the heat. He shouted, “Ruan Zhen, Ruan Zhen, are you in there!”

No one answered, only the acrid smoke and the intense heat.

He had already used the fire extinguisher once, but it was ineffective.

“Damn!”

Song Shuling cursed, and the round lock finally gave way. He kicked the door, which crashed inward, and at that moment, a wave of flames and thick smoke rushed out!

The house had only fire extinguishers, no fire masks. Despite holding his breath, Song Shuling still coughed, his eyes stinging from the smoke. The flames roared, but he could still see a figure lying unconscious by the window.

At that moment, he heard an urgent shout from below.

It was the gardener’s voice.

“Third Lord, come back! Little Madam isn’t in there!”

Song Shuling’s steps hesitated for a moment.

But the next second, he charged in without hesitation.

In a matter of life and death, even if it wasn’t Ruan Zhen, even if it was just a small cat or dog, Song Shuling couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

The person was unconscious, and Song Shuling lifted them onto his shoulder—

At the same time, a loud crash came from behind. A burning wooden cabinet fell, blocking the door.