A Filial Intervention

No, I… what is this?

Xia Chu instinctively recoiled, her heart a knot of anxious unease.

She had initially relied on a surge of courage, believing that by bluntly stating her intentions and maintaining a detached tone, she had truly severed ties with the past and grown stronger.

Yet, the moment her rhythm was disturbed, she found herself utterly bewildered, just as she was now…

‘No, what exactly is happening?’

From Xia Chu’s perspective, her earlier retort, ‘If you want a marriage alliance, go arrange it yourself,’ was a personal attack verging on a complete rupture, surely the harshest words she had uttered all day.

He Manyu had shown no reaction to those words, maintaining a gracious smile. Yet, mere moments ago, she had abruptly erupted in fury, her expression twisting into hostility.

This instantaneous shift in demeanor left Xia Chu completely blindsided, making it feel as though she were genuinely to blame.

He Manyu, however, pressed on with her reprimand: “I know, don’t I, that in your heart, everything we do is perceived as having an ulterior motive, a hidden agenda?”

‘W-wasn’t it?’

Xia Chu thought weakly to herself, then ventured aloud, “Are you not implying that you don’t want me to help you at the foundation?”

“Is your vision truly limited to such trivialities?” He Manyu retorted, sidestepping a direct answer. “You are twenty-four years old, yet you spend every day holed up in your little room, squandering your talents. Is this truly how you intend to live your life? The Xia Family Foundation offers such an immense platform, an opportunity we painstakingly secured for you. Do you truly not care at all?”

‘Was it truly *you* who fought for it? But hadn’t you previously stated that it was Grandpa and the others who recognized my talents and achievements over these past few years…’

Xia Chu mulled these thoughts internally, but dared not voice them.

For He Manyu, once she opened her mouth, a torrent of well-rehearsed arguments poured forth:

“Yes, I understand. You harbor resentment toward us — toward me, your mother, toward your two older brothers, and even toward your deceased father.”

“I didn’t…”

‘The first two, perhaps, but her father had already passed away; she truly harbored no such feelings…’

He Manyu, however, offered Xia Chu no opportunity to deny. “You are well aware of the hardships our family faced back then, aren’t you? With such a monumental event suddenly befalling us, both you and your two older brothers were still so young, and everything fell upon my shoulders alone. Did you ever once consider my plight?”

‘Ah, this…’

Xia Chu mused that while she herself had been quite young at the time, her two elder brothers were hardly children; one was already in his twenties, and the other a full-grown adult.

‘Moreover, was it genuinely that difficult? Though Dad had passed, he left behind a considerable fortune.’

“I concede that our family’s company faces some challenges now, but what do you mean by ‘your company’? Are you not a part of this family?” He Manyu pressed on. “That was your father’s company. Or are you suggesting you no longer acknowledge your own father?”

Xia Chu’s cherry lips parted slightly, yet no words escaped them.

With He Manyu once again invoking her deceased father, Xia Chu found herself utterly at a loss for a reply.

‘Besides, despite all this talk of ‘family,’ she had no stake in the company. Back then, they were entirely preoccupied with marrying their daughter off for a strategic alliance.’

Even then, Xia Chu, though merely beautiful and not yet as curvaceous, was already highly sought after. Had she not ‘burned her bridges’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom meaning to commit oneself irrevocably by destroying all means of retreat) and run away from home, He Manyu would have had ample time to select a suitable match.

At last, Xia Chu seized an opportunity to speak: “So, you still expect me to leverage the foundation for assistance?”

“Just look at you, what nonsense are you spouting now? What do you mean, ‘leverage the foundation for assistance’?” He Manyu’s voice, which had remained loud since her sudden change of demeanor, boomed on. “The Xia Family Foundation inherently possesses a support program for its own industries, and our family company is, of course, included. If you were to hold a position there, it would merely facilitate matters, saving time during the application and review process. The paramount concern remains your personal development. Why can’t you grasp this, child?”

He Manyu’s impassioned pronouncements seemed almost to scream, ‘It’s all for your own good!’

Yet, after careful consideration, Xia Chu extracted the crucial detail from He Manyu’s scattered words: “So, applications aren’t easily approved during the review process?”

‘That’s right,’ she mused. ‘A bloated, aging company, after all these years, suddenly finds itself in financial straits, facing crises on all fronts. Its financial reports are bound to be dismal.’

“Why are you still fixated on such details? You’re always so wary of your own family, aren’t you?”

He Manyu’s expression shifted once more, her voice growing louder and her words tumbling out at an even faster pace:

“Xia Chu, I know you’ve always resented us—resented me and your deceased father—for neglecting you since childhood, for treating you differently from your brothers, refused to consider you true family, and later, that we tried every conceivable method to marry you off for the sake of a strategic alliance. You hate us for all of it. Very well, then. I’ll simply return and inform your grandfather and the others that you no longer acknowledge me as your mother, nor your departed father.”

Having seized upon her perceived moral high ground, He Manyu amplified her voice, directly lecturing Xia Chu with accusatory gestures.

Xia Chu bit her lip, her hands twisting together, utterly at a loss for words.

She was utterly stunned into silence.

Just then, the door clicked open, and a buxom young woman entered, carrying two bags.

One bag held xiao long bao, while the contents of the other remained a mystery.

“Bai Jingjing,” Xia Chu called out instinctively.

For some inexplicable reason, uttering that name brought with it a profound sense of relief.

“You’ve been awake for a while now, haven’t you? You must be hungry,” Bai Jingjing said, extending the bag of xiao long bao. “Here, eat these first.”

She had been listening with keen interest at the doorway just moments before, idly consuming a bun. It suddenly dawned on her that Xia Chu had woken up and hadn’t had anything to eat, prompting her to rush inside.

“Oh.”

Xia Chu obediently accepted the bag, then naturally plucked a bun and popped it into her mouth.

Beside them, He Manyu’s brows furrowed deeply.

‘What in the world is happening here? Why is there a buxom young woman, clad in hot pants that expose her two pale thighs, swaying about in front of my daughter?’

‘If this were her son’s office, He Manyu wouldn’t find it strange in the slightest. But isn’t this her daughter’s room?’

“Xia Chu,” she demanded, her voice cutting directly to the point, “who is this girl?”

With one hand clutching the bag of buns and the other holding a water cup, Xia Chu chewed incessantly, feigning preoccupation with her food to avoid responding.

It was Bai Jingjing who rose to her feet, meeting He Manyu’s gaze directly. “Madam,” she began, “I was at the door just now, and I couldn’t help but overhear a few of your words.”

Though she lacked a height advantage, the moment Bai Jingjing stood her ground, her ample chest trembling slightly, an undeniable aura of assertiveness emanated from her.

He Manyu’s brows drew together even more tightly. “What exactly do you intend to say?”

“I wish to say that our Sister Xia Chu is exceedingly filial. Even if you neglected her from childhood, treated her differently from her brothers, refused to consider her true family, and tried every conceivable method to marry her off for the sake of a strategic alliance,” Bai Jingjing reiterated He Manyu’s own words, one by one, “Sister Xia Chu will still uphold her filial duty.”

He Manyu’s complexion shifted once more, this time contorting into a particularly unsightly grimace.

He Manyu’s earlier pronouncements had been ‘rolling meat’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom describing someone who is stubborn, unreasonable, and difficult to deal with), a nearly shrewish tactic of feigned retreat for strategic advance. Yet, hearing Bai Jingjing recount them in the third person made it sound as though… as though these accusations were truly factual.

‘Though, in truth, they were…’

“I have no idea what you, a mere slip of a girl, are attempting to imply…”

“I wish to convey that this lady need not overly concern herself with her company,” Bai Jingjing responded, offering a soft smile. “Even if it goes bankrupt, it’s quite alright. Sister Xia Chu will provide for you; a few thousand in monthly living expenses will certainly be no issue.”

He Manyu’s eyes widened in outrage, her voice trembling with fury. “What utter nonsense are you spouting!”