Chapter 177 - Chapter 177: Young Master Jiang Shows His Power: Since When Did Xiangcheng Take the Ren Surname? (Part 2)_1

Chapter 177: Young Master Jiang Shows His Power: Since When Did Xiangcheng Take the Ren Surname? (Part 2)_1

Translator: 549690339

When Qiu Xuezheng left, Minister Xu had a vague sense of unease in his heart.

Just as the director finished speaking, darkness seemed to fall before his eyes.

A layer of cold sweat broke out on his back.

“The applicant?” Minister Xu turned to the secretary-general and Ren Wanxuan a few steps away, “Miss Ren, didn’t you say that Bai Lian was just a relative of your family? How did she become the applicant?”

Minister Xu’s face was darker than the bottom of a pot.

He had finally gotten this opportunity, only to offend the most important person here because of a single remark from Ren Wanxuan.

Ren Qian, who had been observing with a cold eye, moved the corners of his lips slightly, finding it fantastical, “She is… the applicant?”

In his eyes, Bai Lian was someone completely unrelated to the Calligraphy Association, so how did she suddenly become the applicant?

Why hadn’t the Ji Family let slip a word?

“Mr. Ren,” said the director, his face cooling, probably understanding the situation, “Let’s postpone today’s commencement ceremony until Miss Bai arrives.”

He didn’t exchange further words with the Ren Family.

He left promptly, following in Qiu Xuezheng’s footsteps.

“Miss Ren! You really have caused me a disaster this time!” Minister Xu gave Ren Wanxuan a look.

The stir-causing commencement ceremony was thus put on hold. Ren Qian held his forehead, glanced at Ren Wanxuan, who was looking down, sighed, and said to the secretary-general, “Look into this.”

Before lunchtime, Bai Lian finally answered Qiu Xuezheng’s call.

They agreed to meet at the coffee shop on the first floor of the library.

Qiu Xuezheng hadn’t been to such a place in many years, and upon entering the coffee shop, he saw Bai Lian sitting by the window.

Next to her sat a stranger, whose face he couldn’t see, but whose silhouette was somehow disturbingly alarming.

“Bai classmate,” Qiu Xuezheng sat across from Bai Lian, not daring to look at the person next to her, and apologized, “I just found out about today’s incident, and it’s related to me as well.”

He and the director had already investigated the matter thoroughly.

Jiang Fulai sat next to Bai Lian, a quantum mechanics book in hand, and upon hearing this, his long, narrow phoenix eyes lifted slightly.

“Rustle—”

His pale, slender fingers turned a page.

Even without saying another word, the nearly seventy-year-old Qiu Xuezheng felt an inexplicable pressure, “Old Mr. Ren also said he wants to personally apologize to you.”

Bai Lian sat leisurely inside, one hand lazily propping up her chin, quietly listening to Qiu Xuezheng finish, her long eyelashes casting a subtle shadow, “It’s her, huh…”

Qiu Xuezheng looked at Bai Lian, clearly tense.

“No need to apologize. I could continue, but then remove those two names from the list,” Bai Lian said, turning her head to look outside the window, her voice neutral.

“Ah?”

Qiu Xuezheng didn’t know about the conflict between Bai Lian and Ren Wanxuan, but Ren Wanxuan was, after all, his prized disciple.

Hearing Bai Lian’s words gave him pause.

This was beyond his expectations.

“Minister Xu is already making arrangements, but Wanxuan… after all, she is Ren Qian’s granddaughter,” Qiu Xuezheng considered both sides. Bai Lian, although a student with decent calligraphy skills, also needed a stroke of luck.

Bai Lian’s phone vibrated, a message from Ji Shaojun.

Inviting her to have a meal together.

Bai Lian didn’t want to talk more with Qiu Xuezheng and stood up, nodding slightly to Qiu Xuezheng, “Teacher Qiu, I only have one request. If met, I’ll continue.”

Qiu Xuezheng stood up, wanting to follow.

At the seat, Jiang Fulai closed his book and looked up, glancing over at Qiu Xuezheng.

Those pale, shallow phoenix eyes, with just a fleeting glance, made Qiu Xuezheng stop dead in his tracks.

At Ji Shaojun’s home.

An old six-story building.

The elder on the first floor brought a basket of eggs for Shen Qing, holding her hand, “Little Shen, you and Shaojun need to look out for us. We’ve lived here all our lives, we really don’t want to leave…”

“I know, Auntie,” Shen Qing took the eggs, her tone calm, “Don’t worry, we don’t want to demolish either.”

“That’s good to hear.” The elderly woman, thin and bent over, descended the stairs.

Mostly solitary elderly people lived in this part of the neighborhood.

Some had children who went out to work and were seldom home, some had gone away for good after succeeding academically, and others were like the old couple on the first floor, with no descendants.

In the entire old neighborhood, only Ji Shaojun was the sole intellectual.

Whenever there was a problem, everyone liked to come to him for advice.

Ji Shaojun, sitting in the living room, frowned at the eggs Shen Qing was holding, “Why are you still accepting people’s eggs? It’s not easy for them without children…”

Shen Qing put away the eggs and glanced at him, “Then you can go downstairs tomorrow and drink the dew.”

There was a knock on the door.

Shen Qing closed the fridge door, “That must be Alian and Dad, you go answer it.”