Chapter 10: Does That Make You Happy?

Old Master Xie tilted his chin toward Uncle Zhao. Uncle Zhao took the hint and fetched a red envelope from the desk—thick and heavy, sealed with a gold sticker.

He presented it to Sui Yuanshan with both hands, bowing slightly:

"Mr. Sui, this is the betrothal gift list the Old Master prepared. Please have a look."

Sui Yuanshan accepted the envelope with both hands, his fingers trembling slightly.

He glanced at Mrs. Qin. Mrs. Qin shot him a look that said, "Well, open it already."

Sui Yuanshan took three deep breaths before carefully peeling off the gold seal and drawing out a folded sheet of gold-flecked red paper.

The red paper unfolded. Sui Yuanshan took one look, and his expression froze solid.

Mrs. Qin noticed her husband's odd reaction, frowned slightly, and leaned over to look.

Then her expression froze too.

Sui Nuo sat nearby, watching both her parents' faces simultaneously turn into the look of someone who'd just seen a ghost. She was dying of curiosity, but sat primly without daring to move.

She sneaked a peek at the red paper. All she caught was a string of digits—one zero, two zeros, three zeros, four zeros… By the time she counted the fifth zero, her eyes had gone round.

Ten million? No, more than that.

It was a betrothal gift list covered in writing, the entries densely packed—from real estate to equity, from jewelry to antiques. The numbers after each entry were absurdly large.

Two commercial properties in the city center, total value approximately fifty million;

Equity in two subsidiaries under the Xie Group, with annual dividends conservatively estimated at several million;

A courtyard house near Yiyuan, market valuation no less than *hundred million;

Plus assorted jewelry and precious stones—among them a jade set said to be the Xie family matriarch's dowry, that one set alone worth a fortune.

Sui Nuo did a rough mental calculation of the total value, and then her brain short-circuited.

Over a hundred million.

The value of these betrothal gifts exceeded a hundred million.

What Sui Yuanshan held in his hands wasn't a piece of paper—it was a check big enough to launch a mid-sized company into the stratosphere.

Sui Industries' annual net profit was about that much—no, probably less.

The betrothal gifts the Xie family casually brought out equaled what their whole family earned through a year of hard work.

This was the gap.

For the first time, Sui Nuo felt—directly, nakedly—what "top-tier wealthy elite family" really meant.

It wasn't just the mansions, luxury cars, private jets—the surface-level stuff. It was that the things they casually pulled out were ceilings others couldn't reach in a lifetime.

Sui Yuanshan's hands trembled harder. The gold-flecked red paper rustled faintly in his grip.

His Adam's apple bobbed again, and then he did the most dignified thing he'd ever done in his life—he took a deep breath and said in a voice that was still fairly steady:

"Old Master Xie, these betrothal gifts… are far too generous. The Sui family doesn't deserve them."

Old Master Xie waved a hand, utterly unruffled:

"Things for the child—what's all this about deserving or not deserving.

Now that Sui Nuo is marrying into the Xie family, she's one of us.

These things are for her to have as a safety net. No need to say more."

Sui Yuanshan opened his mouth, about to say something else, when Mrs. Qin stepped on his foot again under the coffee table.

This time she stepped harder. Sui Yuanshan nearly let out a "sss."

Mrs. Qin's meaning was clear: stop declining. Any more and you're just being ungrateful.

Sui Nuo sat in the middle, watching her parents conduct their silent "foot-stepping exchange" under the coffee table. She found it both funny and bittersweet.

Funny because her parents' little movements were so obvious. Bittersweet because she knew they weren't coveting these betrothal gifts—they genuinely didn't know how to refuse.

Throughout the entire process, Xie Jing never participated.

He leaned back against the sofa, long legs casually crossed, one hand holding that white porcelain teacup, his thumb sliding slowly along the rim, circle after circle.

His gaze was neither on the betrothal list nor on the three members of the Sui family. It rested on the blue-and-white porcelain vase on the coffee table, his expression as flat as if he were listening to a report that had nothing to do with him.

In fact, this was a report that had nothing to do with him.

He was the one getting married. The Xie family was providing the betrothal gifts. But throughout the whole process he was like a bystander dragged in to make up the numbers, sitting here only to prove that "the groom actually exists."

Occasionally, his thumb would pause, and his gaze would drift carelessly across the room.

Then his thumb resumed sliding, his gaze moved away again. The whole process took less than half a second.

Did Sui Nuo notice that gaze? She did.

Every time it swept past her, she felt the fine hairs on her face stand up, as if some invisible current had passed through the air.

But she couldn't be sure whether he was really looking at her or if it was just coincidence—and she certainly didn't dare look up to confirm.

She was facing a more urgent problem right now—she wanted to drink some water.

The tea had been set out for nearly half an hour, and she hadn't taken a single sip.

Not because she wasn't thirsty, but because she didn't dare.

She was afraid her hand would shake when she picked up the cup, that the young master across from her would see it and laugh at her.

But she was genuinely thirsty now. Her lips were starting to dry out. If this went on, she might end up licking her lips in front of Old Master Xie—and that would look even worse.

She hesitated for thirty seconds, then decided to take the gamble.

Sui Nuo slowly extended her right hand and carefully pinched the cup's handle.

Her fingers were slender but not bony, her nails neatly trimmed and coated with a layer of clear nail strengthener.

The teacup was thin-walled white porcelain, very dainty, but when she lifted it, the tea still sloshed—a few drops splashed onto the saucer.

She brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip.

The tea had gone cold, but the orchid fragrance lingered—light and delicate, sliding from her tongue all the way down her throat.

Just then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Xie Jing's thumb pause.

Just for a moment.

Then it resumed sliding.

Sui Nuo pretended she hadn't noticed anything, set the cup back down. As she did, the bottom of the cup clinked against the saucer with an extremely faint "click."

Her ears instantly turned red—she felt the sound had been too loud. In such a quiet room, everyone must have heard it.

But in reality, only one person noticed.

Xie Jing finally raised his head and looked at her.

This time it wasn't a passing glance—it was a real "look."

His gaze slid across her face and landed on the cup handle—it was so small that she'd had to press all four fingers together to grip it. Her knuckles were slightly pale, showing she'd used too much force.

Then his gaze moved up an inch and saw the tips of her ears, flushed bright red.

Her ears were thin, almost translucent in the light, tinged with a faint pink like a flower petal dampened by morning dew.

Xie Jing's gaze rested there for less than a second, then withdrew.

His expression didn't change at all. The teacup still turned in his hand, his thumb still sliding along the rim. Everything as usual.

But Sui Nuo noticed that pause.

She couldn't say why, but she noticed it.

Maybe because that gaze had such a strong presence that she could feel it even with her eyes closed.

Or maybe because her sixth sense had always been sharp—and this feeling of "being noticed" was completely different from the feeling of "being glanced at."

She lowered her eyes, lashes trembling slightly, her heart thumping faster and faster.

Over there, Old Master Xie and Sui Yuanshan had already begun finalizing the specific marriage arrangements.

"The eighth day of next month is an auspicious day."

Old Master Xie opened an old almanac, his finger tapping a certain page.

"Suitable for marriage, suitable for betrothal gifts, suitable for all things."

Sui Yuanshan leaned over to look and nodded repeatedly:

"Good, good day."

Mrs. Qin also leaned in for a look and nodded along.

In truth, she had no idea what was written on that page. If Old Master Xie said it was good, then it was good. She had no opinion—and didn't dare have one.

"As for the wedding, the Xie family will handle it. You don't need to worry."

Old Master Xie spoke as if it were nothing.

"As for which relatives and friends the Sui family needs to invite, give me the list in advance. I'll make the arrangements."

Sui Yuanshan nodded like a woodpecker.

Old Master Xie looked at Sui Nuo, then at Xie Jing, and a flicker of satisfaction passed through his eyes.

He raised his teacup and said, by way of conclusion:

"Then it's settled.

The eighth of next month—these two children's matter—we'll be counting on you, in-laws."

In-laws.

The moment those two words came out, Sui Yuanshan's eyes reddened.

Not from being moved—but because "in-laws" meant this was now set in stone. There was no turning back.

He turned to look at his daughter. Sui Nuo sat there, docile as a painting, quiet and still, impossible to tell what she was thinking.

Sui Yuanshan remembered the day she was born—the nurse had wrapped her in a swaddling cloth and handed her to him. She was so small, so soft, a wrinkled little bundle. His hands had trembled as he held her.

Back then he'd sworn to himself that he would protect this little creature for the rest of his life, never let her suffer the slightest grievance.

And now he was personally delivering her to the most untouchable person in the Capital.

Sui Yuanshan sniffled, forced the tears back down, turned to Old Master Xie, and produced a smile that was dignified but somehow tragic no matter how you looked at it:

"Old Master Xie, then we'll be counting on you."

Old Master Xie smiled and nodded.

Xie Jing still hadn't said a word.

He set the teacup on the coffee table, leaned back a little, his gaze shifting away from Sui Yuanshan's face and out the window.

The pomegranate tree in the courtyard cast a dappled shadow in the sunlight, green fruit faintly visible among the branches and leaves.

His expression was very flat—so flat you couldn't read any emotion at all.

But if you observed carefully enough—carefully, carefully enough—you'd notice his thumb was no longer sliding along the cup rim.

That finger rested quietly against the cup's wall, as if waiting for something.

As for what he was waiting for, he probably couldn't have said himself.

The tea in the reception room was refreshed for another round.

Sui Nuo finally dared to pick up her cup and properly drink a few sips, because she'd noticed Xie Jing was no longer looking at anyone—

His gaze was fixed on some point neither near nor far, like a statue placed here, quietly and patiently waiting for this boring meeting to end.

Old Master Xie went over a few more things—the scale of the wedding, the guest list, future arrangements.

Sui Yuanshan agreed to each one. Mrs. Qin chimed in with details on the side. Sui Nuo's job was to sit there and maintain a docile smile.

When it was time to leave, Old Master Xie personally saw them to the door.

Sui Nuo followed behind her parents toward the exit. Just as she reached the door, Uncle Zhao suddenly handed her something—a dark red brocade box, not large, about palm-sized, embroidered with fine cloud patterns.

"The Old Master said this is a welcome gift for Miss Sui."

Uncle Zhao's voice was gentle and respectful.

Sui Nuo blinked, then turned to look at Old Master Xie.

The Old Master stood there, hands clasped behind his back, smiling:

"Take it. It's nothing valuable—just a little trinket."

Sui Nuo hesitated, then accepted it with both hands and said softly, "Thank you, Grandpa Xie," before following her parents out.

She didn't know what was inside the brocade box, but it felt heavy in her hand, a gentle coolness seeping through the brocade into her palm.

She didn't dare open it on the spot. She carefully tucked it into her handbag.

As they walked out of the Xie residence's main gate, Sui Nuo glanced back.

The old gray-brick, dark-tile house stood quietly in the afternoon sunlight. The copper bells under the eaves made faint, delicate sounds in the wind, as if whispering something.

Sui Yuanshan drove the car out of the driveway. As they passed through the black wrought-iron gate, Sui Nuo's gaze unconsciously lingered on the stone lions atop the gate posts.

The stone lions' eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead, as if guarding something.

The car left the tree-lined lane and turned onto the main road.

Sui Nuo looked back, watching that plane-tree-shaded road recede further and further in her vision, finally disappearing around a bend.

The car was quiet for a few seconds.

Sui Yuanshan suddenly let out a long breath, like a drowning man finally breaking the surface. He slumped in the driver's seat, his voice weak as if coming from very far away:

"Oh my god… it's finally over."

Mrs. Qin also let out a long exhale, her spine finally collapsing. She leaned back against the seat, hand pressed to her chest:

"My heart rate is still at a hundred and twenty."

Sui Nuo, in the back seat, pulled the unfinished grapefruit tea from her bag, stuck in a straw, and took a big gulp.

The cold sweetness rushed down her throat. She felt alive again.

Then she remembered something.

"Dad,"

she said around the straw, her voice muffled,

"did we just… settle the marriage back there?"

Sui Yuanshan glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his expression complicated.

Mrs. Qin kept her eyes closed, her voice tired but calm: "Settled. The eighth of next month."

Sui Nuo took another sip of grapefruit tea, chewed the pulp—sweet with a hint of bitterness.

"Oh," she said.

Outside the car window, the Capital's sky was still that gray-blue color, like a layer of fine silk draped over everything.

Sui Nuo looked at that sky and suddenly thought: from now on, her life would start being draped in something too.

Whether it was silk or something else, she couldn't say just yet.

She reached into her bag and felt the outline of the brocade box.

Heavy. Cool.

She didn't open it.

Maybe because the light in the car wasn't good. Maybe because she wasn't mentally prepared yet.

Or maybe she just wanted to save that "opening" for later—for a time when she felt ready.

But she knew, ready or not, the eighth of next month would arrive on schedule.

Just like Xie Jing's gaze.

It had been an unintentional glance, yet in those few tenths of a second, she'd felt as if he'd seen straight through her.

Sui Nuo squeezed the grapefruit tea cup a little flatter and muttered something under her breath, as if arguing with herself.

Her voice was so quiet that even her parents in the front seat didn't catch it.

Only she knew what she said:

"Actually… it's not that scary."