Chapter Fifty-Three: Far Too Kind

Yuan Xiangdie was completely unconcerned, almost oblivious to what she was saying.

“I don’t pay attention to just anyone. In this matter, I have to find a way to cut off his escape route. All these years, with so many men hovering around them, it proves that this mother and daughter aren’t complete fools, otherwise I wouldn’t have…”

It was truly disheartening. The more Yuan Xiangdie spoke, the more her mood sank, while those beside her quickly picked up on it.

These words of affection tumbled out as if she hadn’t given them a second thought, as if she could just blurt out whatever came to mind.

“In the future, you can try relying on me,” Jin Yuan said. He had imagined he would look dashing uttering these words—didn’t Yuan Xiangdie like this side of him?

“Boss, have you been possessed by an alien?”

Yuan Xiangdie’s reaction was actually rather disappointing. Jin Yuan felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him.

“Never mind, let’s start the livestream.”

Catching sight of the livestream interface opening in the corner of his eye, Jin Yuan hurriedly changed the subject and reminded her about the broadcast.

Yuan Xiangdie seemed to be drawn in, but in truth, her attention was only half invested—she was letting the man off the hook, surprised to see her boss’s awkward side.

“Dear friends, hello everyone. Something came up today, so I’m home late. I hope you all don’t mind. I won’t be drawing today; instead, I’ll talk to you about outfit coordination and various fashion pairings, to give you a thorough understanding of the overall system.”

It sounded comprehensive, but just out of sight of the camera stood a teleprompter. She recited line after line as if being spoon-fed; all she had to do was open her mouth, and someone would even help her chew by moving her jaw for her.

Watching this, Yuan Xiangdie suddenly felt reminded of the institute where she’d furthered her studies… Didn’t the instructors there speak in exactly this way?

Back then, she had signed a contract upon entry, strictly forbidding her from divulging the school’s teachings during her enrollment or renewal period. Students were required not to share any knowledge gained with outsiders during or after their time at the school, under penalty of immediate disciplinary action.

This was to protect intellectual property, and such institutions had international renown, attracting a diverse crowd. No wonder they had such high viewership rates, and no wonder Xunfang had suffered such staggering losses.

“The fabrication is quite convincing. If I’m not mistaken, these are all lessons from the institute, and Yuan Yao’er hasn’t even received her diploma yet—she’s still a student.”

Yuan Xiangdie had a vague sense that Yuan Yao’er was courting disaster, revealing everything she’d learned and collected in class to outsiders—and she’d been going on for over an hour.

“She hasn’t received the principal’s signature, nor has any identity proving her as a graduate,” Yuan Xiangdie mused, realizing she could leverage this. This alone could devastate the mother and daughter’s psychological defenses.

“You’re so devious, Boss. Try to keep a little light in your heart,” Yuan Xiangdie said, half-joking, even though she herself had been brooding. Yet she still managed to lighten Jin Yuan’s mood with her surplus of emotion.

“Those are your own thoughts; don’t try to pin the blame on me.”

His words sounded so dignified that there was no room for argument.

Indeed, he hadn’t said anything wrong, and Yuan Xiangdie pouted in protest. Jin Yuan truly was the heartless merchant.

“Forget it. There’s no need to waste more energy on women like that.” Yuan Xiangdie let it go—after all, she had her own life to live.

Jin Yuan glanced at her from the side but said nothing more. He simply lowered his gaze to her delicate hands, hesitated for a moment, and then gently took hold of them.

“Let’s go home, time to eat.”

Yuan Xiangdie wasn’t particularly surprised, though she did grumble; why had he only just now decided to hold her hand—was his heart too dark, too small?

If Mina were to find out, she’d certainly tease her about her chubby, dough-like fingers, and wave her own at Yuan Xiangdie for comparison.

“If your hands are short and plump, then what does that make mine? Not even as good as chicken feet!”

Meanwhile, Yuan Yao’er was busy building hype and pondering how to coax more gifts from her viewers. But she couldn’t say too much—her mother had repeatedly emphasized this. For now, she could only briefly introduce the basics of design, and nothing more; she obediently traced a drawing from the computer screen.

“Host, please say a few more words—your voice is so lovely, and it’s really helpful for design beginners like us!”

“Yes, the host is so kind and beautiful. Usually, designers never share these theoretical and technical things with us.”

The chorus of praise swelled, and Yuan Yao’er began to feel as if she’d been lifted to the clouds. Her pride grew, and her brushwork lost its force and precision, as if her tail were cocked high in the air, utterly convinced of her own prowess.

None of her viewers seemed to notice anything amiss, but Zhu Yun, watching a forwarded livestream from a colleague, was stunned.

“Old Zhou, isn’t this the content of our school’s very first class? Are you secretly running online courses behind my back at the institute?”

Zhu Yun was addressing Old Zhou, who managed the academic office and held much of the course material.

Old Zhou adjusted his heavy black-rimmed glasses, squinting as he searched for a response.

Zhu Yun waited a long time for an answer, but remained patient—he’d already started recording the broadcast as soon as he saw it.

Yuan Yao’er’s face was attractive, but now, to Zhu Yun, it was simply repulsive.

“Brother Zhu, even if I had a hundred lives, I wouldn’t dare push someone as notorious as her into a livestream.”

Clearly, this young lady was already infamous. Yuan Yao’er would surely face punishment for her actions, but she seemed oblivious, rambling on as if the author were about to put down the pen.

Zhang Xi, watching the commotion in the livestream, initially thought her well-behaved daughter’s popularity was soaring, soon to rival top streamers. Yet she sensed something was off.

Once a society lady herself, long admired and imitated in elite circles, her every gesture was polished to perfection. She would never do something so crude as slap her own forehead.

Other people in the house had been with the mother and daughter for years.

“We can’t let this go on. Yuan Yao’er has lost her mind, forgetting all the school rules. If this continues, we’ll all be dragged down with her.”

This came from a maid with gray eyes, her body covered in scars.

There was no light in her gaze—she seemed to care about nothing at all.

Others nearby were in similar straits, though none as bad as she.

“Keep your voice down. If Madam hears you, she’ll send you off to those old men again.”

A younger maid whispered; all of them survived together in this old mansion. When the lady of the house had signed them for ten years, they thought it a blessing, but now it seemed the start of a nightmare.

The scarred maid didn’t even flinch. She gripped the USB drive in her pocket—yes, it contained all the deeds, good and bad, that this mother and daughter had committed over the years—not that there were many good ones.

“This isn’t for us to decide. Just do your jobs and don’t give anyone an excuse to punish you.”

The others nodded. Their fates were already in the hands of the mother and daughter; even if they went outside and told the world of their mistreatment, it would do no good.

“Big sister, if we really do get out, please hand this over to—”

But before she could finish, the scarred maid cut her off.

“Who would you hand it to? First we’d have to get out of this house. There are electric fences outside, and fingerprint locks on every door.”

A self-deprecating smile seemed etched into her face. The others’ hope faded at once. What could they do now?

“Don’t dwell on it. Get to work. There’s always hope…”

Whether she said it for herself or the others was unclear. She’d been here eight years already, with a contract binding her for twenty.

She knew all too well what kind of people this mother and daughter were.

Her eyes grew ever darker. Only after everyone had left did she pick up the broom propped nearby. As though nothing had happened, she went out into the courtyard to sweep the fallen leaves, as naturally as if there had been no incident at all.

“That’s all for today’s livestream. Hope everyone enjoyed it!” Yuan Yao’er blew a theatrical kiss—the viewers before their screens were fired up. Such a beautiful woman, so famous, was a rare sight in real life.

Most importantly, anyone who sent a lavish gift would see their name and ID noticed by this beauty, a reward in itself.

With the exception of a few who failed to get her contact info, she fulfilled every request—showing her hands, her eyes, chatting sweetly. For the slightly more outrageous demands, she was rightly reprimanded.

The moderators didn’t let a single offender off—all were muted.

“Sis, you’re so kind! You even pleaded with the mods for those idiots. I’m your loyal fan now, absolutely devoted!”

The viewer sent two huge rockets and a sports car as gifts. Yuan Yao’er was utterly elated, overjoyed beyond words.