Chapter Seven: Grandfather's Protection

Yuan Lan felt an even deeper sense of regret as she looked at Xiang’er, so determined and resilient.

His aged hand reached out to grasp the small hand lying beside him. “Back then, your grandfather used to hold little Xiang’er’s hand just like this, step by step, as we walked into this very house.”

In those days, it was the original married couple who lived here. The old man still held the reins of power, and even if the family occasionally quarreled, harmony was soon restored. But now, it seemed everything had changed—only the two of them remained, seeking warmth in each other amidst the cold house.

A shrill voice interrupted, “Oh my, am I disturbing you, old man? Are you and that little wretch—oh, pardon me, Xiang’er—whispering secrets in here?”

Zhang Xi—what a detestable stepmother!

Back when the old man was still alive, he had firmly opposed this marriage. Zhang Xi had not yet become the lady of the house, but was merely a woman from the countryside, dragging along a child not her own. Soon after, that child vanished—no one knew to where. All they knew was that this woman married in because she was already pregnant.

“What are you doing here, woman? Get out at once! I’m not about to let you grace my old face with your presence,” Yuan Lan snapped, showing her no courtesy.

But Zhang Xi was unfazed, immune by now to such words. She gazed at them with disdain, cigarette pinched elegantly between her fingers as if she were a goddess exhaling clouds of smoke. A pale plume drifted from her lips, blurring the outlines of the room and her own face.

Yuan Xiangdie coughed twice, irritated by the smoke, but the old man beside her began coughing relentlessly.

“Don’t you know Grandpa can’t stand that smell? What do you want? Get out!” Yuan Xiangdie’s voice was heavy with anger.

Zhang Xi ignored her, taking a final drag before setting the cigarette aside, casting a cold glance their way. No longer did she resemble the elegant lady of the house, but rather an old crone from the neighborhood.

“Stop pretending. Don’t think you’re still the young miss here! In my eyes, you’re not even worth this—do you know how expensive what I hold is?”

Yuan Xiangdie bit her lip—these luxuries were bought with their family’s money, after all.

The look in the Yuan family’s eyes—truly all the same! Zhang Xi sneered. Was this the look that wretched man gave her before he died?

She laughed coldly and said nothing more. To her, they were nothing but stepping stones.

Now that she, once a nobody, had become a phoenix, what did it matter how these castaways survived? What did their suffering have to do with her?

“Enough dawdling. Go upstairs and change your clothes. Don’t wear those dowdy, lifeless rags—wear something nice, something with a label! If you don’t have any, I can have Yao’er lend you something.”

Ouyang Xiao had already arrived; Madame Ou was sitting downstairs. Yuan Yao’er was doing her utmost to play the part of a refined heiress.

“Madame, please wait a moment. After all, my sister needs time to dress up. One should look her best when meeting her future husband—wouldn’t you agree, Young Master Ou?”

Ouyang Xiao, inexplicably caught in the crossfire, merely slouched on the sofa like a boneless worm.

“That has nothing to do with me. That woman is only here because you all want her to be. Marry her if you wish; she’ll just be a vase in my house. I’ll enjoy my freedom and pleasure—why should I consult her?”

Any ordinary person, hearing such words, would certainly be infuriated.

How could one not be angry, when one’s beloved daughter was to be married off to a family with such an attitude?

“Grandpa, stay right here. I’ll help you to your room,” Yuan Xiangdie said, wiping away her tears with stubborn resolve, no longer caring what the future held. At least her grandfather had returned—he was her only source of warmth in this cold, unfeeling home.

That little face, so often brimming with surprises before his health declined, now filled Yuan Lan with bitter self-loathing. If only he had taken better care of this child, even through illness, he would never have allowed things to come to this pass.

“My poor child, it’s my fault for not protecting you,” he murmured.

“Grandpa, don’t say that. Everything’s the result of those two women’s schemes. Besides, I learned a lot in that place—I’m not suffering,” she replied, carefully avoiding the word “prison.” She didn’t want her grandfather, who had always doted on her and pinned his hopes on her, to know such a shameful truth.

When they reached her grandfather’s room, Yuan Xiangdie realized it was barely better than her own. Aside from hot water and a few bottles of medicine, it was more like a cell than a bedroom.

“How could they treat you like this?” Her voice rose in anger, and she was about to storm out and confront the two women.

“Xiang’er, come back,” her grandfather ordered, his voice weary and brow deeply furrowed.

It took some effort, but Yuan Xiangdie finally got her grandfather settled on the bed, warmed his feet with a hot towel. It was already past nine o’clock. Usually, those two women wouldn’t be up until around ten, but today, having risen early to cause trouble, they had gone back for a nap. That gave her a brief respite—time to speak quietly with Yuan Lan.

“I will never let this happen, not in a thousand years! I know that Ouyang boy is no good. For those two women to introduce you to him—do they think I’m already dead?”

Yuan Xiangdie had no idea how her grandfather had learned of this—Yuan Yao’er hadn’t mentioned any names when she left. “Grandpa, how did you know? Even I barely understand what’s going on,” she asked, but did not press further, seeing how unwell he looked.

Only in her grandfather’s presence did Yuan Xiangdie feel like the little girl she once was, curled up on his knee as he read her fairy tales to sleep.

Seeing the bright light in his granddaughter’s eyes, Yuan Lan’s heart twisted with unwillingness and sorrow. The mysterious caller had urged him to return, but even now, it seemed there was nothing he could do.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m not the foolish girl I once was. When I’ve earned enough money, we’ll leave this place,” she vowed, her eyes burning with conviction.

Moved once again by her indomitable spirit, Yuan Lan felt even more apologetic.

His aged hand reached for her small one. “Back then, I used to hold your little hand just like this, leading you step by step into this house.”

In those days, the original couple lived here, and he had not yet relinquished control. Even if disputes arose, the family soon reconciled. Now, everything seemed changed—only the two of them remained, clinging to each other for warmth.