Chapter Thirty-Four: News from the Jewelry Store

The reason for abandoning that idea was simply because Wu Xiuping was right there. After all, Qu Wuxin was Wu Xiuping’s junior disciple; if he were to refine Qu Wuxin into a spirit right in front of Wu Xiuping, who knows if Wu Xiuping would draw his blade against him.

Although Yang Wenhao no longer feared Wu Xiuping, he still felt it necessary to give him some respect. Gaining a friend and losing an enemy was certainly not a bad thing. Therefore, the matter of refining a spirit would have to wait for another time.

At this moment, Wu Xiuping turned to Yang Wenhao and said, “Young Yang, I’ll take my junior’s body with me for now. We’ll discuss the rest later.”

“Alright,” Yang Wenhao nodded.

Wu Xiuping left with Qu Wuxin’s body, leaving only Yang Wenhao and Leng Ruoran resting in his arms in the vast living room.

Looking down at Leng Ruoran, who seemed peacefully asleep, Yang Wenhao sighed softly. Such an opportunity was a pity, but he was not one to take advantage of others’ misfortune.

He first settled Leng Ruoran in the bedroom, then cleaned the bloodstains from the living room. Once everything was taken care of, Yang Wenhao decided to leave. Now that the mission’s target was resolved, there was no reason to stay any longer.

The next day, since Yang Wenhao’s father, Yang Wentian, was leaving, Yang Wenhao had no choice but to take a leave from school to see him off.

Just before leaving, Yang Wentian suddenly pulled Yang Wenhao close. “So, son, how’s your relationship with Xiaoying going?”

Yang Wenhao was confused by the question. “What could it be? It’s just as usual.”

Yang Wentian’s face darkened at the reply. “Listen to me, Xiaoying is so pretty—you’d better act fast.”

“What are you talking about?” Yang Wenhao looked at his father, speechless. Even if he and Yang Ying weren’t related by blood, wasn’t this too much for a father to say?

“You know nothing,” Yang Wentian scolded. “It’s called keeping the riches within the family.”

“Keeping the riches within the family, huh?” Yang Wenhao’s lips twitched, unsure how to respond.

“I’m telling you, this time I’ll be gone for quite a while before I return,” Yang Wentian said. “You must work hard—Xiaoying is a good girl.”

Yang Wenhao looked at his father, at a loss for words.

Yang Wentian was still unwilling to let it go. “If you can’t manage, just make it happen; as for Xiaoying’s mother, I’ll talk to her.”

“Yes, yes, just go already.” For the first time, Yang Wenhao wished his father would leave quickly, not even a moment’s delay.

“You rascal, I’m teaching you how to seize the moment, and this is how you act?” Yang Wentian glared at him.

Time was almost up; even with a thousand things left unsaid, Yang Wentian could only give Yang Wenhao a few meaningful looks for him to ponder.

As for Yang Wenhao, he had already put it out of his mind.

...

Returning to school, he had just finished one class when Leng Ruoran called him to the office.

Standing before her, Yang Wenhao asked, “Miss Leng, did you need me?”

“Yesterday…” Leng Ruoran hesitated, sighing lightly. “Why did you leave yesterday?”

Leng Ruoran had lost consciousness from the sedative and remembered little of what had happened. When she woke, she found herself in bed, and it was already the next day—Yang Wenhao was nowhere to be seen.

Yang Wenhao smiled calmly. “Yesterday, teacher was probably too tired and fell asleep on the sofa, so I carried you to bed, then went home myself.”

Hearing this, a flush appeared on Leng Ruoran’s lovely face. “Perhaps I really was too tired. Since we didn’t manage to finish yesterday, let’s continue today.”

“Huh?” Yang Wenhao gaped.

“What are you huh-ing about?” Leng Ruoran was displeased. “I’m giving you extra lessons and you react like this? Besides, you were the one who asked for tutoring.”

Yang Wenhao scratched his head. “I suppose I did say so… but Miss Leng, can’t we skip it? I already know everything.”

Yesterday’s tutoring had been just an excuse; if he had to go to Leng Ruoran’s house every day, he wouldn’t be able to hang out with his buddy Wang Xin.

Leng Ruoran glared at him, face stern. “Nonsense. After school, wait here obediently—you’re getting tutored whether you like it or not.”

“Alright…” Yang Wenhao had no choice but to comply.

After school, under Wang Xin’s angry gaze, Yang Wenhao boarded Leng Ruoran’s car as usual.

After dinner at her home, he spent several hours listening to lectures, only to be sent home at last.

After several days of this routine, Leng Ruoran finally canceled the tutoring, albeit with some doubt, when Yang Wenhao handed her an exam paper with a perfect score.

“I’m telling you, you did well this time, but if you ever do poorly, you’ll have to come back for tutoring.”

Yang Wenhao nodded quickly. “Don’t worry, teacher—I’ll never give you the chance again.”

“Hm?” A cold look flashed from Leng Ruoran.

Yang Wenhao shivered and immediately changed the subject. “Teacher, I won’t get arrogant; I’ll keep working hard.”

“That’s more like it.” Leng Ruoran’s expression softened, her gentle demeanor even making Yang Wenhao feel a bit dazed.

Leaving the office, Yang Wenhao was about to return to his classroom when his phone rang in his pocket.

He took it out to find an unfamiliar number. Upon answering, a man’s voice came through.

“Hello, is this Mr. Yang?”

Yang Wenhao asked, “Who is this?”

“Mr. Yang, you must be busy—I’m the manager of Zhou Qifu Jewelry Shop. You visited our store a few days ago.”

Upon hearing this, Yang Wenhao recalled—it was the jewelry shop manager from before.

The manager continued, “Here’s the thing: your jewelry has been appraised. If you have time, could you come by?”

“I’m free this afternoon. I’ll notify you when I head over,” Yang Wenhao replied, realizing he didn’t have tutoring today and thus had time.

“We’ll be waiting for your arrival.”

...

After school, Yang Wenhao hailed a taxi to Central Avenue.

Soon, he arrived at the jewelry shop. The manager was already waiting at the door, having been notified in advance.

Yang Wenhao was a bit surprised by the manager’s unusual courtesy. He was just selling some jewelry—was such formality necessary?

The manager greeted him warmly. “Please, Mr. Yang, come inside.”

“Thank you.” Yang Wenhao followed him to the lounge at the back.

Upon entering, he saw a dignified elderly man already seated inside.

“Mr. Zhang, Mr. Yang has arrived.”