He Asked About Her—Then Chose Someone Else
1085 Words
The moment Su Nian’en opened the door, she found herself face-to-face with Ah Qing.
The maid was about her age, yet she had always treated Su Nian’en like something scraped off the sole of her shoe.
Ah Qing frowned the instant she saw her. “Why haven’t you changed yet? Hurry up. The master, madam, and Mr. Han are all downstairs waiting for you to join them for afternoon tea.”
Waiting for her?
And Han Xi Cheng was waiting too?
Su Nian’en’s chest tightened. Anger flared hot and sharp.
She’d thought that after everything she’d said earlier—after making things so clear—if Han Xi Cheng had even a shred of conscience, he would leave her alone.
But apparently…
He truly was a ruthless, cold-blooded wolf.
“Hurry up!” Ah Qing snapped impatiently. “Mr. Han even asked about you!”
Su Nian’en clenched her teeth.
She forced the anger down, smoothed her expression, and replied calmly, “Alright. I’ll change and come down right away.”
“Be quick!”
Before Ah Qing could finish her disdainful lecture, the door slammed shut with a loud bang—missing the maid’s nose by a hair’s breadth.
Ah Qing exploded with rage outside.
Su Nian’en didn’t care.
She changed out of her sweat-soaked clothes quickly, pulled on jeans and a plain T-shirt, tied her hair into a low ponytail, and deliberately kept herself simple—clean, quiet, almost invisible.
What she didn’t realize was—
The moment she stepped into the courtyard, she drew every eye.
Jiang Yun Fei and Song Wan Zhi were already seated there. Jiang Qing Wan had returned as well.
And among them, Han Xi Cheng’s gaze was impossible to ignore.
It burned against her skin—sharp, steady, inescapable—sending a chill down her spine.
Under those piercing stares, Su Nian’en walked over, keeping her posture low and obedient. Before Song Wan Zhi could attack, she spoke quickly, her tone respectful and soft.
“I’m sorry, Uncle, Aunt. A classmate called me just now, so I came down late.”
Then she turned calmly toward the man seated beside Jiang Qing Wan.
“Brother-in-law.”
“You silly girl,” Jiang Qing Wan laughed warmly. “Were you playing on your computer again and lost track of time? Come, sit. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Jiang Qing Wan had noticed it—Han Xi Cheng’s gaze drifting toward Su Nian’en again and again.
Unlike Song Wan Zhi’s blatant hostility, Jiang Qing Wan’s emotions were more complicated.
Su Nian’en was young. Pretty.
What if—
But the moment Su Nian’en addressed him as brother-in-law, Jiang Qing Wan’s smile bloomed brighter. Reassured, she gestured for a servant to pour Su Nian’en a glass of juice.
Su Nian’en pressed her lips together and took the seat farthest from everyone else.
Truthfully, she had never liked afternoon tea.
She’d rather be crouched at a street stall eating spicy stinky tofu than sitting here, nibbling pastries and sipping coffee.
Especially not with the Jiang family—who had never truly treated her as family.
And certainly not with a calculating, shameless man like Han Xi Cheng.
Sharing a table with them felt like slow torture.
The table was laid with delicate pastries, fragrant coffee, and freshly squeezed juice.
Han Xi Cheng and Jiang Qing Wan chatted like a devoted couple. They spoke pleasantly with Jiang Yun Fei and Song Wan Zhi as well.
Su Nian’en remained silent.
Quiet. Invisible. Almost nonexistent.
She ate mechanically, eyes lowered.
But she knew.
If Han Xi Cheng had truly intended to leave her alone, he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to summon her downstairs.
This man—
He was absolutely planning something.
Sure enough.
Just as she lifted her coffee cup, Han Xi Cheng’s gaze shifted and locked onto her.
As if struck by sudden curiosity, he asked casually, “I heard you majored in French when you were studying in New York. What about German? How’s your German?”
His voice was elegant. Unhurried. Smooth enough to lull people into lowering their guard.
If she didn’t already know what kind of man he was, Su Nian’en might have been fooled—just like every other woman in West City.
Including Jiang Qing Wan.
But now—
That pleasant voice sounded like something demonic to her ears.
Terrifying. And infuriating.
Still, she had no choice.
She raised her head and met his dark eyes—eyes that carried a faint, unmistakable trace of amusement.
Su Nian’en had majored in French. Her German was fluent—nearly native-level.
Han Xi Cheng knew this perfectly well.
He was asking on purpose.
Under the layered, unreadable gazes of Jiang Yun Fei and Jiang Qing Wan, Su Nian’en pressed her lips together—
Before she could answer, Jiang Qing Wan spoke up with a light laugh, clearly displeased that his attention was on Su Nian’en.
“What’s this?” she teased. “Why are you suddenly so interested in what Nian’en studied in New York? Don’t tell me—you’re trying to find my sister a job?”
As she spoke, she affectionately looped her arm through Han Xi Cheng’s.
“I do happen to need a private translator,” Han Xi Cheng said calmly. “Someone fluent in German, French, and English.”
He didn’t hide anything. His tone was even, unreadable.
“So I thought—”
“That won’t do!” Song Wan Zhi cut in sharply. “Nian’en can’t do it! Her English and French are fine, but her German? Absolutely not. If she worked as your translator, she’d only embarrass you!”
“I see.” Han Xi Cheng smiled faintly. “And here I was thinking I could help out your sister.”
He looked at Jiang Qing Wan as he spoke, his expression gentle, affectionate.
The implication was unmistakable.
He’d only considered Su Nian’en because she was her sister.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been worth a second glance.
Then his gaze lowered slightly. His voice turned indifferent.
“Since Nian’en’s German isn’t good enough, I’ll ask your cousin, Chen Ai Lin instead. I hear her German, French, and English are all excellent.”
As he spoke, he patted Jiang Qing Wan’s hand resting on his arm—slow, reassuring.
If he couldn’t help one sister, helping another would do just fine.
Chen Ai Lin.
Jiang Qing Wan’s cousin. Her aunt’s daughter.
Two years younger than Su Nian’en.
- Writer
