Editor: Henyee Translations
Nie Chao was once again struck dumb: “???”
What?
What had he just heard?
Just by adding the word “ancient” in front of the O Continent, the meaning had completely changed.
It referred to the O Continent from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries, which experienced a cultural and intellectual movement. Literature, art, music, and various other domains saw the emergence of countless famous figures, and from then on, the O Continent went from decline to prosperity.
There were many royal families in the O Continent, but most no longer exist today, with only ten remaining to this day, led by the Y country. Each royal family has its own distinct set of etiquettes.
It was just an ordinary way of sitting, yet, he couldn’t see anything special about it. How could it possibly be following the etiquette of the O Continent’s royal family?
However, Nie Chao would not doubt Fu Yunshen’s words.
Because that young master had told him, to be a successful profligate son, one must have a comprehensive knowledge of astronomy and geography.
Nie Chao always felt something was off about that statement but couldn’t figure out what, so he could only humbly learn from it.
It wouldn’t be surprising for Shanghai City’s number one profligate to know about the etiquettes of the O Continent’s royal families, but what about the little sister from the countryside of the Ying Family?
Ying Zijin opened her eyes, her expression unchanged.
She shifted positions, resting her chin in her hand in a lazy and casual manner: “I’ve read the relevant books.”
Fu Yunshen leaned back and laughed, “That’s a hobby quite different from most kids.”
Ying Zijin didn’t respond.
In just a few minutes, the dishes were all prepared.
There were no private rooms in the Han Pavilion; each table was separated by azure curtains, with an incense burner placed at the side of each, into which different aromatic herbs could be placed according to patrons’ preferences.
There was also a small stone bridge with flowing water alongside, fully displaying an ancient style.
Ying Zijin turned her head, her eyes slightly moved.
Osmanthus, rosemary, agarwood, lavender, sandalwood… all of these were calming herbs, clearly prepared specifically for her.
In just a short time, she felt her spirit had improved significantly.
Ying Zijin lowered her eyes.
Her first visit to Earth had been in the mid-fifteenth century.
She hadn’t expected to come back to Earth after all, especially since she was a person meant to die, and her survival had not been easy.
Because her injuries were so severe that her soul had completely shattered, her consciousness had been asleep for nearly seventeen years, fully awakening only today. Upon waking, her situation was somewhat dire.
The prolonged anemia had made this body extremely weak, one might even say it was riddled with countless problems, fragile to the touch.
She needed a large amount of jade stone medicine to improve her body and restore her qi and blood.
But she was short on money.
In the past, she had stored quite a bit of gold on the O Continent; so many years had gone by, the banks back then might have closed down by now, and she wondered if her gold was still there.
Ying Zijin pondered for a moment, then asked, “Any fun places in Shanghai City?”
“There’s plenty,” Nie Chao, rising tipsy, belched, “You’ve been here for so long, haven’t you gone out to have fun?”
“A Living Blood Bank probably doesn’t have such a thing as freedom,” she said.
Nie Chao was once again left speechless.
“Kid, drink this,” Fu Yunshen handed the girl a bowl of longan and red date soup. After seeing her take it, he settled back into the bamboo chair, “In the past year, how many times has Ying Luwei been injured?”
Nie Chao was taken aback for a moment, then counted, “Just the visits to the hospital alone, no less than ten times.”
As soon as he said it, even he was startled.
It was well-known throughout Shanghai City that Ying Luwei suffered from hemophilia. Hence, the socialites and rich young men were all extremely careful with her.
Being the fiancée of Jiang Moyuan, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, she was adored by the elders of the Four major noble families.
They wouldn’t dare to touch her, so how could she have suffered so many injuries?
Nie Chao tentatively asked, “Boss, you couldn’t have also given her that many transfusions…”
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t continue.
Who could withstand more than ten blood transfusions?
Ying Zijin slowly finished her longan and date soup, squinted her phoenix eyes, and appeared indifferent, “Not just that many.”
The vitality of this body was exhausted when she had awakened, and it had only recovered a little by now, which showed just how weak it had become.
“Hmm, pretty good,” Fu Yunshen raised his hand, passing a tissue to the girl, and chuckled softly, his voice tender, “She could be nominated for the Guinness World Records.”
Nie Chao broke out in a cold sweat again.
He and Fu Yunshen had known each other since childhood and were deeply aware of his temperament.
When the young master spoke with such a gentle tone, it meant that he was truly angry.
But what could be done about it?
The Ying Family had taken in a foster daughter, spoiled her with good food and drink, all for that bit of blood, right?
They had long been accustomed to the darkness within wealthy families; there were even dirtier deeds than this.
Nie Chao sighed, called over a server, and eagerly offered, “Boss, eat more, The Seventh Young Master is right, you need to replenish your blood well.”
Ying Zijin stared at her plate, which she had only just cleared and was again piled high with pig liver, “…”
**
At this moment, the carved wooden door of Han Pavilion opened once more.
Footsteps sounded as a group of people walked in.
At the forefront was a man, tall and straight, his long and powerful legs encased in black suit pants.
His face was cold, his brows and eyes sharp, his entire being exuded an aloof nobility, yet possessed a lethal charm of a mature man.
Even the servers at Han Pavilion couldn’t help but become somewhat solemn upon seeing the newcomer.
This face, no one in Shanghai City would fail to recognize.
Third Master of the Jiang Family, Jiang Moyuan.
The primary heir to one of the four major noble families, a man who combined looks, status, and power.
The man that socialites in Shanghai City wished to marry.
The manager came forward, respectful but not subservient, “CEO Jiang, your reserved seat is this way, please follow me.”
Jiang Moyuan nodded and began to walk inside.
But just then, his secretary who was following behind suddenly stepped forward, whispered, “Third Master.”
After speaking, he pointed in a certain direction.
Jiang Moyuan furrowed his brows, but still turned his head and looked in the direction the secretary was pointing, his gaze suddenly darkening.
The slender girl sat in the bamboo chair, tilting her head, seemingly in the midst of something, her expression very resistant.
And the person sitting next to her, he recognized as well.
Fu Yunshen.
That prodigal son of the Fu Family, notorious for his less than stellar reputation.
Having been sent abroad for three years, he seemed to have made no progress at all.
Thinking of something, Jiang Moyuan’s frown deepened further, and he strode off, leaving the people following behind him exchanging glances.
These people were clients of the Jiang Corporation, and they somewhat understood Jiang Moyuan’s disposition.
Third Master Jiang of Shanghai City, whose feelings were always kept hidden, what could have made him show a change in expression?
“The Third Master has gone to discipline a disobedient younger relative and will return afterwards,” the secretary apologized, “Please take your seats first.”