Having seen her fair share of the world, Gu Wan’er wasn’t about to get flustered. She replied, “Uncle Kun, I’m originally from Longhai.”
As for Yu Xiaoduo’s answer, Uncle Kun’s expression remained neutral—neither disdainful nor approving. “Gu Wan’er.”
Yu Xiaoduo responded, “Uncle Kun.”
“When you’re looking for a boyfriend, you need to find someone capable. Being good-looking doesn’t cut it.” With that, Uncle Kun turned and left first.
Gu Wan’er shot a glance at Yu Xiaoduo. Uncle Kun just said you’re useless.
But Yu Xiaoduo didn’t agree with that assessment—at least his good looks had been acknowledged. Still, it didn’t sit well with him.
Gu Wan’er muttered under her breath, “I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable.”
“Of course you are—who wouldn’t be?” Yu Xiaoduo felt just as helpless. What is this even about? They lifted Gu Wan’er up, but left me in the dust.
Gu Wan’er, can you please fight for my honor and save face for me? Just go for it!
Ye Shishi couldn’t help but marvel at how much Yu Xiaoduo could endure. If he’d just reveal his background, he wouldn’t be in this position. She was curious to see how long he could hold out. Not that revealing his identity would do much good anyway—his mother had already been cast out, and he wasn’t even considered half a member of the Tang family. Mentioning it would only give Uncle Kun more reason to mock him.
As they left the parlor, things turned out just as Yu Xiaoduo had guessed—the overall decor was much more restrained, though he still spotted plenty of rare treasures. Like the orb on the stairway railing—that thing was actually a night pearl. Holy mother of—
“You did really well,” Bai Ji said, slowing her pace to whisper in Yu Xiaoduo’s ear.
Hearing those words from Sister Bai eased half of Yu Xiaoduo’s anxiety, though a lingering question remained. “Sister Bai, why do we call him ‘Uncle Kun’?”
“He doesn’t like admitting his age. Back in his younger days, everyone called him ‘Brother Kun.'”
“Oh, so that’s why.” Yu Xiaoduo noted that big shots all had their little quirks. He’d met two like that before—one was obsessed with fishing, and the other sat at home writing novels that nobody read, until Yu Xiaoduo stepped in and convinced him to drop them entirely.
Bai Ji asked curiously, “You did that on purpose just now, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean, on purpose?” Yu Xiaoduo put on an innocent, wide-eyed look, as if he couldn’t possibly tell a lie.
“What, still playing dumb in front of me, you little clever one?”
“Oh dear, nothing gets past Sister Bai’s sharp eyes.”
Gu Wan’er had overheard every word of their exchange. It was the first time she’d seen this side of things, but what truly stunned her was how naturally they talked—like sisters, even.
She recalled the day she’d spoken with Sister Bai at the company—it was nowhere near this relaxed. Yu Xiaoduo, after turning into a woman, seemed to have unlocked some kind of cheat mode. It was almost absurd.
If Sister Bai ever found out he was actually a man… she couldn’t even imagine the fallout.
Soon, they arrived at the dining room. It was massive—over ten meters tall, with a crystal chandelier hanging above and a square, old-fashioned eight-immortal table placed right underneath. Visually, the table seemed almost too small for the space.
But the walls were lined with valuable oil paintings, and a few suits of medieval armor stood around the edges. The overall atmosphere carried a heavy Old European flair.
“Niece, come keep Uncle Kun company for a game of chess.” The food wasn’t ready yet, and Uncle Kun was getting a bit bored sitting on the long bench.
Bai Ji smiled and stepped forward. Servants quickly brought out the chessboard, and Yu Xiaoduo’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Is this thing made of solid gold? Clearly, Uncle Kun was showing off his collection again.
Yu Xiaoduo wasn’t much of a chess fan—first, because his mother didn’t like it, and second, because he felt it was a pastime for older folks. Us young folks should spend our time looking at beautiful women—that’s how you extend your lifespan.
Gu Wan’er, on the other hand, was watching the game intently. Unlike Yu Xiaoduo, she found deep spiritual enjoyment in the mental duel. She could even gauge a person’s character from their playing style. As for Uncle Kun’s skill, she gave him due credit.
Sister Bai was also formidable—balanced in both offense and defense, like an unshakeable fortress, while Uncle Kun was like a bloodthirsty lance, brimming with aggressive intent.
Watching them play, Yu Xiaoduo started to feel drowsy. So boring…
“Checkmate! Haha!” Just as Yu Xiaoduo yawned, Uncle Kun let out a hearty laugh.
Bai Ji smiled gracefully. “Uncle Kun’s offensive play is getting sharper and sharper. I’m no match for you.”
“Now, now, buttering me up won’t work. Little girl from the Ye family, how about you have a game with Uncle Kun?”
Ye Shishi was caught off guard. “Of course, Uncle Kun.”
Yu Xiaoduo was suddenly wide awake. What’s Uncle Kun up to? Is he going to call on me to play next?
Gu Wan’er realized it too. Yu Xiaoduo didn’t know how to play chess at all. If he was put on the spot, he’d definitely make a fool of himself, and all the goodwill he’d built up earlier might take a hit.
Ye Shishi’s chess skills were average—in Gu Wan’er’s eyes, about on par with Yu Xiaoduo’s father. She was quickly crushed by Uncle Kun.
Ye Shishi’s expression soured. She hadn’t even put up a fight, whereas Sister Bai had at least mounted a counteroffensive.
“Little Ye girl, your chess skills still need work,” Uncle Kun said with a smile, snapping his fan shut.
Ye Shishi accepted the critique humbly. “You’re right, Uncle Kun. I’ll be sure to study harder.”
Uncle Kun nodded, then turned his gaze toward Yu Xiaoduo—who had already prepared his response.
But then, unexpectedly, Uncle Kun’s focus shifted to Gu Wan’er instead. “Do you know how to play?”
Yu Xiaoduo nearly burst out laughing. Uncle Kun, why are you just like Ye Shishi—always picking on people’s strengths to compete with?
You guys must have planned this. You want to tear me down and make Gu Wan’er think less of me. What a clever, vicious tactic.
“A little,” Gu Wan’er said modestly.
“Then let’s see just how much that ‘little’ amounts to. If you lose, leave early.” With that, Uncle Kun glanced at Yu Xiaoduo—and the “leave” didn’t seem to mean leave the room, but leave Gu Wan’er.
That lit a fire in Mr. Yu. He shot Gu Wan’er a look that said: Take him down. Just like I took down Ye Shishi that day.
Gu Wan’er shot him back a look of her own, the message clear: Leave it to me. I may not beat you at your shady tricks, but when it comes to music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—I excel at every single one.
Standing nearby, Ye Shishi watched Yu Xiaoduo intently. Is the young master finally going to show off a bit of his skill? I’m curious to see if, after swallowing all that frustration, he can actually take down Uncle Kun.
Bai Ji remained calm. She’d already looked into Yu Xiaoduo’s background—he was just an ordinary person. Playing chess with Uncle Kun might rewrite his ordinary life, but the outcome was obvious.
In the end, she wanted Wan’er to understand: you’re not an ordinary girl. You have big things ahead of you. The man beside you doesn’t need to carry your burdens, but he also can’t hold you back. There’s a reason people talk about matching social status in relationships.
