Moth Chasing the Sun 6

By afternoon, the Newman Clan Head arrived on schedule.

She was a white-haired woman with deeply lined features but a spirited demeanor. Her silver locks were neatly coiled at the nape of her neck, her lips painted a deep crimson, and she moved with the brisk confidence of a runway model.

She wore a face that brooked no argument, yet it broke into a wide smile upon seeing Yan Xianchuan, as if the two were old friends reunited after years apart.

"I apologize for the unannounced visit; I hope Miss Yan won't hold it against me."

Yan Xianchuan wore a perfectly poised social smile. "Not at all. Please, have a seat. Housekeeper, pour tea for the Clan Head."

Lu Mingqiu gracefully lifted the teapot and filled a cup for her. The tea was clear and fragrant, its aroma lingering in the air.

Yan Xianchuan continued the pleasantries, "Oh, I forgot to ask—do you prefer tea? We have coffee as well, so please don't be shy."

"Tea is fine; thank you for your thoughtfulness." The Newman Clan Head took a sip. "I'm a straightforward person, not one for beating around the bush, so I'll get to the point."

"The day after tomorrow is my seventieth birthday. I came to cordially invite Miss Yan to grace the occasion."

"What? You're already seventy?" Yan Xianchuan exclaimed with exaggerated surprise. "I would never have guessed! With your vitality, you're more robust than I am!"

"Haha! Miss Yan certainly knows how to flatter." The Newman Clan Head beamed. "I can't compare to the young. I'm old, and my body fails me a little more each year."

"My children and grandchildren don't amount to much either—it's truly worrisome."

Yan Xianchuan offered, "Each generation has its own fortunes, and with you guiding them, what is there to worry about?"

The two exchanged smiles, and Xie Five and Lu Mingqiu, who were accompanying, joined in the laughter, creating a harmonious atmosphere.

After the main topic was settled, the conversation drifted to various subjects. The Newman Clan Head carefully avoided sensitive issues like politics and business dealings, sticking to broad topics such as history, culture, and current events, occasionally sharing local high-society gossip—well-known tidbits used to welcome the newcomer, a gesture of goodwill.

Of course, even things she deemed common knowledge for those from prominent families were lost on Yan Xianchuan.

Rising talents? Traditions? Family connections?

She didn't know the names, let alone be able to quote classics. But that was fine—she didn't need to know; Lu Mingqiu did.

The two sat close, and through their mental link, Lu Mingqiu formulated answers and fed them to Yan Xianchuan, who simply repeated them.

Her only real challenge was controlling her expressions—a test of acting skill.

But that wasn't too difficult for her either. Yan Xianchuan was an expert at pretending, and for the sake of her beloved wife, she did so willingly, even the keen eyes of the Newman Clan Head and the ever-watchful Xie Five couldn't detect anything amiss.

As Yan Wen's eyes, Xie Five reported everything that happened to him.

He had heard of the Seventh Miss's reputation, and in fact, he had witnessed it firsthand.

Xie Five was one of the Yan family's trained children. The Yan family, known for their charity, annually selected a number of young children from orphanages to nurture and train as loyal retainers.

Xie Five was grateful for his eloquence, which allowed him to stand out among the children and earn a place in the Yan household.

From then on, he no longer worried about hunger or competition; at the Yan estate, he only needed to study. Patriarch Yan Wen had given him a second life, so he naturally felt indebted.

Thus, when the younger generation came of age and needed to take on responsibilities, these adopted children were called upon to repay their debt.

Xie Five still remembered that winter day when the wind howled outside while the hall was warm as spring. He and a dozen others stood in the hall, like soldiers awaiting inspection, ready to be chosen as aides to the young masters and misses.

Before long, the person he was to serve walked in.

Arrogant, proud, and self-assured, each had ambition gleaming in their eyes, chests housing a hungry beast eager to carve out their own paths.

Only one walked in the queue as if heading to the execution ground, with no joy, a pale face, and eyes flickering nervously.

People with different skills were selected one by one. When it came to Xie Five's turn, Yan Xianchuan stepped forward and said, "I want him."

Her voice was pleasant, like wind through a forest after rain, but also tinged with a lack of confidence, floating lightly.

Another voice interjected, "I want him too. How about you yield him to me?"

Choosing was a first-come, first-served matter; there was no reason to yield, and doing so would stomp on the other's pride.

But Yan Xianchuan paused, then stepped back. "Then he's yours."

The others said nothing, as elite children wouldn't resort to blatant mockery. Yet the contempt was evident in their glances, their slight turns away, and their unspoken exclusion.

She shrank back, clearly aware, but didn't argue or defend herself, only withdrawing further.

In the end, Xie Five was chosen by Yan Wanzhi, accompanying him to Dingyang City, watching him fall into the trap of love, reporting his deeds to the Patriarch, seizing him, dragging him back to the palace for trial, and watching him draw his last breath.

Yan Wanzhi reached out, trying to grab Xie Five's pant leg, to ask why he had been betrayed.

Xie Five stepped back, leaving him to fall, his bloody fingers leaving streaks on the stone floor.

He returned to the study and reported, "It's done."

Yan Wen, without pausing in his paperwork, said offhandedly, "After the ancestral rites in a couple of days, you and Xie Seven will accompany Yan Xianchuan back to Dingyang City."

Xie Five acknowledged and respectfully withdrew, but his mind wandered back to that submissive figure from that day, now contrasting with the eloquent person before him. Time flies, and people can change greatly.

How things change!

Xie Five sent the recording back to the main house, adding his assessment—"smooth and thorough, flawless, far superior to Yan Wanzhi."

The Newman Clan Head's birthday banquet was a must-attend. Her personal visit was a sign of respect, not to Yan Xianchuan, but to the Yan family. Since she came, Yan Xianchuan had to go—it was not a matter of desire but of obligation.

Going also signaled that the Yan family had a new leader, one who was approachable.

Yan Xianchuan wasn't socially anxious, nor did she hate conversation, but she disliked meaningless, drawn-out social niceties.

After the guests left, she gulped down a whole pot of fine tea, wasting it without a thought.

Then she rested her chin on the table, looking drained, and stared pitifully at Lu Mingqiu.

The latter understood and praised, "Achuan did wonderfully! Our coordination was perfect—flawless!"

"But it'll require a bit more effort for a while. Hang in there, okay?"

Yan Xianchuan sighed woefully, her eyes half-closed, eyelashes casting shadows that made her look fragile as a doll.

"I don't know... Talking to them is so tiring."

She sighed heavily and murmured, "Perhaps I need a hug. Books say hugs can lift your spirits. Not sure if that's true."

This was her real intention.

Lu Mingqiu was speechless.

Was she acting? Absolutely. There was exaggeration in her performance, and unlike her seamless acting earlier, this was clumsy and full of holes.

But was she truly tired? Surely. The hallmark of a mental patient was lack of control, impulsiveness, and absence of self-restraint.

These plans and ideals had nothing to do with Yan Xianchuan directly; she didn't fear death. That she actively cooperated, controlling her emotions and suppressing her instincts—wasn't that all for her? If I don't show appreciation, I'd be an ungrateful wretch.

Yan Xianchuan kept muttering woefully, "But where can I go to find someone to hug me?"

She looked at Lu Mingqiu melancholically, "I won't force you. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine in a bit."

Lu Mingqiu: "..."

She thought irritably: Where did this tactic come from? Is she counting on my soft heart?

Soft-heartedness is indeed a flaw.

How come I never noticed this remarkable shortcoming when I was reaping lives like wheat stalks?

Lu Mingqiu sulked and stayed silent. She couldn't indulge the other too much; if they continued like this, what would their relationship become?

What would she become?

Sensing Lu Mingqiu's lack of response, Yan Xianchuan's superficial sorrow slowly turned genuine. She quietly straightened up and whispered, "I..."

After hemming and hawing, she failed to articulate anything and tried to find an excuse to leave, but her mind drew a blank.

Yan Xianchuan pursed her lips. "I'll go to the bedroom."

She started to leave but halted after two steps.

—Because her wrist was caught.

Lu Mingqiu's face darkened, and she pulled the other into an embrace.

Yan Xianchuan: Huh?

She cautiously examined Lu Mingqiu's expression—darker than ink, as if she might explode into violence. What's going on? Is she angry at me?

Yan Xianchuan spread her arms to hug back, wrapping them around Lu Mingqiu's waist, resting her chin on her shoulder.

She thought jubilantly: Definitely not at me! I didn't do anything wrong!

The initial disappointment was normal, but after that, she'd go take a nap. She'd been busy reading many seduction guides; rejection was nothing. If this tactic failed, she'd try another.

The key was to be shameless.

Can this stump me? Yan Xianchuan thought proudly. The whole world knows I'm shameless!

After a while, the person in her embrace stirred. "Alright, let go of me."

Yan Xianchuan pondered for a moment and said, "No."

She clung to Lu Mingqiu like a plaster and mumbled, "I think my energy hasn't recovered yet."

Lu Mingqiu took a deep breath, tempted to punch this opportunist.

"Let go."

"No." Yan Xianchuan said in a tone of false concern, "You seem upset; you need a hug to feel better."

Lu Mingqiu laughed in frustration. Do you really not know why I'm upset, or are you pretending not to?

She glared at the air for a moment, then laughed at herself. Why am I arguing with a mental patient?

She doesn't understand human nature; even if I explained my inner turmoil, she wouldn't grasp it.

Why torment myself?

Perhaps I owed her in a past life, and now I'm repaying the debt.

Lu Mingqiu patted her shoulder again, softening her voice. "So how long do you plan to hug?"

With the second request, Yan Xianchuan reluctantly let go, but her expression was joyful, clearly pleased.

"I'm going for a nap!" she said contentedly.

Lu Mingqiu looked at her strangely. "So... you were just going to sleep?"

Not that she was a dead heart, nor bereft of hope, nor lost and dejected—just going to sleep?

"Yes." Yan Xianchuan nodded, puzzled.

Lu Mingqiu: "..."

She forced a smile. "Go on then. Have sweet dreams."

My mistake lies in being a normal person.

...

The Newman family was primarily in real estate, and the current market was promising.

They built tall buildings, eighty or ninety stories each, which could be rented out.

Job seekers needed proof of residence, either rental or purchase, to be hired.

Dingyang City was a post-Great Cleansing reconstruction, and the Newman family had surged to prominence by seizing the opportunity.

The city wasn't large, but it had an advantage no other province could match—it was adjacent to the capital.

The Federation's political center, Diamond City, was just a short distance away, making Dingyang a bustling metropolis, comparable to Nanjin.

The Newman family's rise was also due to their connection with the Bolov family, who were related by marriage and had facilitated government approvals.

Now, with the Yan family having ties to the Bolovs, and Yan Xianchuan marrying a Bolov omega, the Newman Clan Head made a point to show her respect.

On the day of her birthday banquet, she had her assistant send a car to pick up the guests.

Given the celebratory occasion, the dress code was anything but understated, especially as they were there to make a social appearance.

Lu Mingqiu wore a silver-purple gradient slip dress that hugged her figure, flaring only at the hem like a wave. The back was bare, adorned with layered gold chains ending in a lustrous pearl that matched her skin.

Yan Xianchuan had taken a liking to the semi-traditional style popular in Moon City, so she wore a wide-sleeved shirt with flowing silk-cotton trousers, and a light outer robe in colors that subtly echoed her companion's attire.

As soon as they stepped out of the car, a server led them to the banquet hall.

Before they entered, they heard melodious music.

They were honored guests, and the Newman Clan Head, as hostess, naturally came out to greet them personally.

When the door opened, the energetic old matriarch said with a smile, "An honor! Truly an honor!"

Yan Xianchuan returned the pleasantries and followed her inside.

The other guests, quick-witted as they were, guessed her identity when they saw the Clan Head greeting a stranger, and one by one they came over to say hello and make an acquaintance.

Among them was Patriarch Lin, who was beaming with pride. His family was only a third-rate clan, but thanks to his good-for-nothing daughter, their status had risen, and the subtle flattery he received made him want to puff out his chest.

With a change in leadership, her stance might differ from her predecessor.

Everyone had to weigh the business implications, but since Yan Xianchuan was new and it was someone else's party, it wasn't the place for such talk. Until they could gauge her temperament, a careless word could backfire, losing them advantages. So they deferred to her, fawning, observing and assessing her.

When Yan Xianchuan commented that the music was nice, someone chimed in with the orchestra's credentials, mentioning their acquaintance with a producer of a similar style and offering to book a box for her.

When she mentioned the crabs were tasty, another guest offered a private seafood hunting ground, promising an endless supply. Another boasted of an exquisite chef at home, inviting her for a meal.

Yan Xianchuan internally teased Lu Mingqiu: You'd think I was their ancestor resurrected.

Lu Mingqiu nearly lost her composed smile.

The banquet proceeded joyfully, with the Newman family's younger generation presenting gifts. One granddaughter said she had a surprise for her grandmother.

The Newman Clan Head smiled affectionately, patting her hand. "Teresa, my dear granddaughter, what did you prepare for me, keeping it so secret?"

Teresa blinked her green eyes and pouted. "Grandma, just come and see!"

Curious, another guest chimed in, "What's so mysterious?"

Teresa gave a coy smile. "If you're curious, come see too!"

With that, a crowd followed her up to the second floor. The Newman Clan Head seemed to dote on her granddaughter, smiling all the while.

"Haha, I promise you'll be stunned!" Teresa twisted the doorknob. "Ta-da!"

What appeared before the guests wasn't a rare treasure or antique, but two men locked together on the floor.

Along with their unbridled moans, a pungent scent of pheromones flooded out—one like strong liquor, the other like pear blossoms—mixing like a tornado that sucked the air out of the room.

Yan Xianchuan: Whoa.

One of them had a chiseled, devilish face, with aggressive looks and smooth muscles, while the other had fair skin and a delicate beauty, with his leg bent up to his head, eyes watery, evoking sympathy.

They were wearing a few scraps of cloth, but they might as well have been naked.

Yan Xianchuan: What a birthday gift!

She said this silently while exchanging a look with Lu Mingqiu, clearly enjoying the drama.

Lu Mingqiu squeezed her hand as a warning: Don't be so obvious.

As guests, even if shocked, they shouldn't openly relish the host's embarrassment.

Sneak-peek only.

The other guests, who were either friends or relatives of the Newman family, had expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.

Teresa was frozen too, then shouted, "Zhao Yi! Qi Ziyang, what is this?!"

"My birthday gift!" She wailed, her face showing genuine shock and pain.

"Daju! I raised him with so much effort!" Teresa rushed into the room, ignoring the entangled men, and scooped up a half-grown golden tiger lying in the corner, blood seeping from its mouth, its belly caved in, motionless.

Tigers were already endangered, and after the Great Cleansing, they were even rarer. This one, with its pale gold fur, was clearly a prized possession.

Oddly enough, despite the commotion, the two men remained oblivious, fully absorbed in each other, a clear sign something was wrong.

The Zhao and Qi families were present, and seeing their young scions disgracing themselves in public, ruining the banquet, was a loss of face!

The Newman Clan Head's face darkened. "Someone, separate them now!"

She turned sharply and walked to the drawing room, unwilling to witness more.

Yan Xianchuan and Lu Mingqiu followed the other guests, taking seats in the drawing room amid an awkward silence, with only the exchange of glances.

The local guests knew what the new Yan representative didn't: Zhao Yi and Qi Ziyang were both engaged, and their betrothed were at the banquet, just not on the second floor.

A moment later, Teresa stormed in, her expression fierce. She had realized she'd been used.

Whoever set this trap knew she'd planned a "surprise," so they used that room against them.

Rage flickered in her eyes. Regardless of who was framed, they had killed her Daju, and she would make them pay.

The half-grown tiger was already sizable. Daju was well-fed and docile, but it had natural strength.

Two punches—the attacker had killed it with two blows, one to the head and one to the belly, beating it to death.

Zhao Yi, an A-grade alpha, had the strength, didn't he?

Under the influence of drugs, he'd been out of his mind, incited by hormones, and had killed her tiger, with bite marks on his hand to prove it.

His frame-up was deliberate, designed to turn her against Zhao Yi.

Cunning plan, knowing she was hot-tempered and vindictive, and would definitely retaliate against Zhao Yi.

Teresa sneered internally. Zhao Yi was a dead man, and the one who set this up wouldn't escape either—they must die to quell her fury.

The two protagonists of that little scene entered behind her, unsteady, supported by others, but at least properly dressed and with more clarity in their eyes.

Soon, their respective betrothed also came in, looking shocked and uncertain.

A not-too-tall man glared at them both, his anger rising. He strode up and slapped Qi Ziyang, whose face immediately swelled, and yelled, "You slut!"

Not satisfied, he raised his foot to kick, but servants on either side held him back.

Anyone would think twice about brawling in front of such a crowd.

Qi Ziyang took the slap, turned to look at him, and sneered, "If I'm a slut, what are you? A cuckold? An early-level a**hole?"