Jin Wenyi was left speechless by the question.

Whether it was her or Jin Zhao, they had long since passed the age of seeing things as simply black or white.

Perhaps Jin Zhao would awaken to this a little later still.

After all, Jin Wenyi had her parents’ protection and her elder brother’s care. She was a typical girl who had grown up within happiness—free of worries and fear, happy herself, and even able to spare some compassion for others, becoming the kind of kind and decent good person typical of the secular world. Jin Zhao, on the other hand, had people already scheming ways to take from her when she still understood nothing.

That taking was not necessarily material; it also included spiritual taking, or, put more plainly, PUA.

A daughter left behind by a deceased wife and a father in the prime of his life—under many circumstances, their interests are not aligned. The daughter needs care; the father wants to pursue his own happiness. At their core, these are contradictory, and at such times, someone will inevitably have to compromise and retreat.

When Jin Zhao was little, whenever she felt slighted and wronged, everyone told her that Jin Wenhui was a good man. He was honest, generous, a man with a sense of responsibility. They tried to persuade her using Jin Wenhui’s good reputation among friends and his generosity toward others.

A child’s values are always very simple—honesty is good; generosity is good. Lying is bad; concealment is bad; being full of schemes is bad.

At that point, feeling slighted and wronged even became something shameful. Because it meant it wasn’t that he was bad, but that she was too petty.

What Jin Zhao bore from childhood was precisely this kind of spiritual plunder.

It was only when she grew up and gradually formed her own values that she realized that harm coming from good people was even more deadly.

Take Jin Wenhui, for example. He was generous to his parents, his beloved wife, his siblings, his friends—yet toward her, he counted every cent. Relying on the fact that he was older than her, he had long seen through the fundamentally opposing interests between them, seen through that his own happiness would very likely be built upon his daughter’s forced concessions. And so toward Jin Zhao, from beginning to end, he exercised an honest, brazen kind of suppression.

He honestly told the young Jin Zhao that he wanted to remarry and hoped she could accept it, because whether she accepted it or not made no difference—the decision lay with him. He honestly told her that family harmony required a certain degree of compromise and endurance. He even behaved with such honesty when pushing her toward a bad fate—at least, he was honest to his own heart. He followed his true feelings in arranging for her to transfer to Ninth High, and honestly told her of this decision, making no attempt at concealment.

“So, being honestly bad to me, or being scheming while doing good for me—which one should I choose?” Jin Zhao asked Jin Wenyi lightly, neither too heavy nor too soft.

Jin Wenyi’s throat felt tightly blocked.

The truth was, neither was a good choice.

After a long while, she sighed softly. “I still hope you find someone who is good in himself, not someone who is only good to you.”

Otherwise, how can you be sure he will keep being good to you?

Jin Zhao shook her head gently. “No.”

Jin Wenyi: “What?”

“Meng Yanxi is not someone who is only good to me.” Jin Zhao looked into Jin Wenyi’s eyes and said with certainty. “He himself is a very, very good person.”

Jin Wenyi’s gaze clearly showed disagreement.

Jin Zhao didn’t know where Jin Wenyi had heard about Meng Yanxi. It might not have been from Jin Wenhui—after all, Meng Yanxi was far too deceptive a person. Thinking he was bad was entirely normal, just like when she herself was young.

Back then, she too had thought him scheming and arrogant, with a poor reputation that made her disdain him. Only in the end did she realize that Meng Yanxi was the one who was truly open and sincere.

For instance, hanging up on her calls and deleting her messages—he was such a smart person, did he really not think that it would be exposed sooner or later?

Even hiding ten thousand yuan in the gift he gave Jin Wenyi was quickly discovered. She and Jin Wenyi were bound to meet again; once they met, she would immediately notice all the tricks he had pulled, and might even get angry at him over it, argue with him. Yet he still did it.

Because Meng Yanxi was simply that kind of person. Just like when he was young, he would do reckless things to protect his younger sister. Whatever he did, he never needed a high-sounding excuse. His protection was always direct and fierce.

Meng Yanxi had never deigned to cloak his innocence in hypocritical trappings; a sharp blade was always in his hand. He bore responsibility and stood guard, even if it meant being smeared with mud himself and becoming the target of others’ reproach.

—that was true openness and sincerity.

And so, Meng Yanxi’s kindness toward her was not a scheming sort of kindness, but a genuine one—frank and aboveboard.

But she had no intention of persuading Jin Wenyi, nor was there any need to.

Meng Yanxi never required anyone else to vindicate him.

Yet in Jin Wenyi’s eyes, this looked like Jin Zhao’s belated rebellion. She feared that by insisting on her own way, Jin Zhao would ultimately only ruin herself.

Jin Wenyi felt very upset. In the brief silence, she even reflected on whether it was because she herself had not done well enough.

She truly had not tried her best—she had to admit that—and that realization only made her feel more miserable.

How had things come to this?

Jin Wenyi spoke with difficulty: “Then you two… have you registered your marriage?”

Jin Zhao: “Not yet. We’re planning to go register on the 27th.”

Jin Wenyi calculated the time, her heart sinking. “That would be tomorrow?”

Jin Zhao lowered her eyes, the happiness in them hard to conceal. “If you’re still here tomorrow, we can have a meal together.”

Jin Wenyi said nothing.

And Jin Zhao understood.

When she was little, she would give things up because of adults’ disapproval. Perhaps they didn’t even need to state it clearly—just a single look of disapproval was enough to make her retreat. But she was no longer a child.

“Then…”

Jin Zhao was about to tactfully bring this meeting to an end when Jin Wenyi suddenly spoke. “There’s something I originally didn’t plan to tell you. After all, it involves your father’s privacy, and I don’t really have the right to tell you.”

Jin Zhao: “If that’s the case, then I also don’t—”

Jin Wenyi: “But I’m not sure whether this matter has anything to do with Meng Yanxi, so I think you should know—at least before you decide to marry him.”

Jin Zhao: “What?”

Jin Wenyi fell silent for a moment.

All along, she had been a very thorough person, her conduct almost beyond reproach. By nature, she would never do something like speaking of another’s private matters behind their back. But after weighing it again and again, she finally decided to say it, taking it as the last bit of concern she could show this niece.

Jin Wenyi: “You know, these past few years Lin Yao has always wanted a daughter, but she failed every time. Later, she and your dad went to do IVF, and that failed as well.”

“Is that so?” Jin Zhao said calmly, without ripples. “Good thing I haven’t seen them recently, otherwise I’d probably have to hear police sirens once again.”

Jin Wenyi did not dwell on the sarcasm in Jin Zhao’s words and continued. “I don’t know whether Lin Yao quarreled with your dad or whether wanting a daughter drove her out of her mind… later, she actually—actually went looking for a male college student.”

Jin Zhao’s gaze shifted.

Jin Wenyi was a decent person; saying such things already made her feel ashamed. Some words she did not say outright, only exchanging a tacit look with Jin Zhao.

Jin Wenyi: “Your dad found out.”

Jin Zhao: “Discovered?”

Jin Wenyi: “Mm. He caught them in the act.”

Jin Zhao made no comment, though she could more or less imagine how spectacular the scene must have been.

Jin Wenyi said, “Your dad went crazy. He rushed up and got into a fight with the other party on the spot.”

Jin Zhao asked, “What was the outcome? Was my dad injured?”

This was a very reasonable guess. After all, Jin Wenhui was nearly sixty—most likely no match for a college student in his prime.

Jin Wenyi shook her head. “No. The other party didn’t fight back. He got injured, called the police, and it blew up all the way to the police station.”

Jin Zhao said frankly, “That’s really embarrassing for him. He’s someone who cares so much about face—this is probably even harder for him to swallow than being injured.”

Jin Wenyi looked at Jin Zhao, her expression unfamiliar.

Jin Zhao had truly changed. In her memory, Jin Zhao had been someone who softened easily. In the past, as long as Jin Wenhui showed even the slightest hint of distress in front of her, Jin Zhao would immediately feel sorry for her father. But the Jin Zhao now was like a bystander—expressionless, her tone even carrying a trace of cool detachment.

So Jin Wenyi did not go into further detail about the additional humiliation involved.

The truth was, it was really ugly.

The male college student insisted that he did not know Lin Yao was married, claiming that he himself had been deceived out of money and sex by a married woman, and then inexplicably beaten. He had not fought back at all; there was a hospital injury report, and he intended to sue Lin Yao and Jin Wenhui. He had also very quickly hired a lawyer.

Recently, Jin Wenhui had been unbelievably unlucky—business, family… everything was driving him to the brink. He was already overwhelmed, and his elderly parents had no way to help him handle it. In the end, it was Jin Wenyi who rushed back to meet the other party’s lawyer.

He looked like a very young man, but it was said that he was extremely famous—one of the top litigators in Suiyi.

Jin Wenyi wanted to settle, but the other party’s lawyer was extremely forceful, declaring that he would definitely teach Jin Wenhui and his wife a lesson on behalf of his client. Jin Wenyi tried to communicate several times and met only polite refusals. Then she suddenly remembered that she had students who were also lawyers, so she asked someone to inquire about the other party.

To this day, Jin Wenyi still remembered the bone-chilling feeling she had when she heard her student’s reply.

“Teacher Jin, my suggestion is to settle. You might not be in Suiyi and may not have litigation experience, so you haven’t heard of the other side. The fact is, Luo Heng isn’t just among the very best in Suiyi—he’s ranked nationwide as well. If you go to court with him, there’s basically no chance of getting any advantage out of it. Even if you pull strings, it won’t help much. Luo Heng is very close to Meng Yanxi in private. As long as Meng Yanxi is involved, your connections simply won’t be stronger than his.”

From her student’s mouth, Jin Wenyi heard Meng Yanxi’s name.

She didn’t know if it was because women were naturally more sensitive, but two matters that seemed completely unrelated—Jin Wenyi, in that instant, thought of a terrifying possibility.

She immediately went to find Lin Yao. Lin Yao was also in a terrible state, hiding in a room with the curtains tightly drawn, hair disheveled, face buried in her palms, saying painfully, “I don’t know who he is. I met him at a bar. He took the initiative to flirt with me, bought me drinks, asked me out… I was just possessed for a moment.”

The suspicion in Jin Wenyi’s heart was further confirmed.

She asked Jin Zhao, “Is there a lawyer named Luo Heng by Meng Yanxi’s side?”

Jin Zhao’s eyelid twitched. “What do you mean?”

Jin Wenyi: “The lawyer the other side hired—his name is Luo Heng.”

Jin Zhao froze, then let out a low laugh. “Aunt, are you saying that all of this was designed by Meng Yanxi?”

Jin Wenyi did not say whether it was or not. She only looked into Jin Zhao’s eyes and said with earnest gravity, “Whether it is or isn’t no longer matters. I just want to ask—Lingling, do you really understand the kind of person Meng Yanxi is? The gap between you, whether in status or in upbringing, is so great. Right now, you’re merely relying on the fact that he likes you. But liking is something inherently illusory, and love itself is but a fleeting bloom. If one day love disappears, with such a disparity between you, how will you place yourself?”

Jin Zhao countered, “But Aunt, what in life is truly eternal? Not even life itself.”

Jin Wenyi was left without words.

Jin Zhao said, “Just like how we know full well that life will vanish, yet we still harbor desire and throw ourselves into it without hesitation. Childhood studies, adulthood careers… which one has a predetermined ending, free of both gain and loss? And yet who doesn’t pursue them with everything they have for half a lifetime?”

Once, Jin Zhao had also been very afraid of losing Meng Yanxi. She had even timidly entertained the thought of ending everything at its most beautiful moment. But later, she suddenly understood—if for other things she could still leap in without hesitation, then for this man who had dazzled her entire life, why couldn’t she be bold just once?

“Meng Yanxi is also my desire. I am willing to give it my all for him.” She looked at Jin Wenyi and said with open candor, “No regrets once the move is made.”