Chapter 6: “Give him five million to send him abroad.”

Chen Luoru was so angry she seemed to be steaming, sitting sideways in the car without saying a word.

Meng Jianchen, who had endured her fussing for quite some time, remained completely unfazed.

He instructed the driver, “Back to Langyue.”

Langyue No.1 was exactly the place Chen Xiao had described as “located on the eastern end of Chang’an Street, with 2,000 square meters of floor space, a swimming pool, and a private garden”—a luxury villa complex nestled halfway up the mountain. Meng Jianchen lived in Villa No.1 of Langyue No.1.

This place was home to a cluster of the ultra-wealthy—every household was immensely rich and powerful.

Chen Luoru had no desire whatsoever to go there. Her home was in the south.

At the center of a large artificial lake was a small island, and on that island stood a beautiful castle. She was the most pampered and beloved little princess in that castle.

White swans swam in the lake, and yellow-billed egrets perched on the trees.

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“Ma’am, we’re going home right now,” the driver said, then stepped on the gas.

“I want to go back to Guangdong,” Chen Luoru protested.

“I already spoke with your parents on the phone while we were on the plane,” Meng Jianchen said with a serene expression. “They told me to take good care of you. They also said if you run back to Guangdong on your own, they won’t open the door for you.”

Chen Luoru: “……”

So it was a full-on conspiracy.

“I don’t believe you, unless they tell me themselves.”

Unhurried, Meng Jianchen dialed a video call and handed the phone to Chen Luoru.

Seeing her familiar parents, Chen Luoru’s throat tightened. “Mom, Dad, it’s me—Wan Wan.”

“Wan Wan, you’re in Beijing?” Fu Lifang asked.

Wan Wan was Chen Luoru’s childhood nickname.

Chen Luoru nodded. “Mom, Dad, I want to come home.”

Fu Lifang replied, “The Meng Family is your home now. Child, have you been studying too much and gone silly?”

What kind of nonsense was that? Since when did the Meng family become her home?

“It’s written in the Chen family rules,” said Chen Guanglong. “Once a daughter marries out, she’s removed from the family registry.”

“You’ve already been removed from the Chen family record.”

Chen Luoru: “……”

What kind of absurd joke was this? How did she not know anything about it?

Seeing her upset, Chen Guanglong softened his tone a bit. “The fact that the Meng family is willing to include you in their genealogy is a great honor for our Chen family.”

Chen Luoru felt a wave of dizziness hit her.

She was still planning to divorce, yet they’d already written her into the Meng family record?

“You should’ve been removed from our family record after marriage anyway,” Fu Lifang said cheerfully. “Now you finally have a place to belong.”

She sounded delighted, with not a hint of reluctance.

Chen Luoru began to suspect that her father had lost money at the gambling tables in Macau and sold her to Meng Jianchen to pay off his debt. What else could explain why they refused to let her come home?

Cradling the phone and turning slightly away from Meng Jianchen, she whispered, “Mom, Dad, if you’ve been kidnapped, blink once for yes.”

Chen Guanglong ignored her words, calmly tapping the lid of his teacup. “Wan Wan, just live a good life with A’chen. If you miss us, come visit with him.”

“A’chen is a good son-in-law,” he said after a sip of tea. “He helped Dad win three major PPP contracts in a row. The company won’t need to worry about revenue for the next three years.”

“Yes, and he even said we don’t need to give you money anymore—he’ll take care of you,” Fu Lifang added with emotion. “A son-in-law like him is rare even if you search with a lantern.”

Chen Luoru: “……”

So her financial support from her natal family was officially cut off?

All their words, to her, boiled down to one thing—her family had sold her to Meng Jianchen.

It was the 21st century, yet things as absurd as selling one’s daughter for status were still happening?

Her life truly was a tragedy.

“Where’s Lucas?” she asked suddenly.

“You mean him?” Fu Lifang said. “How could he possibly go to Beijing with you?”

“No. I want to see him!”

“What for? You’re married now, you should settle down and stop thinking about running around all day.”

“Lucas and I grew up together. Why can’t I see him? He must miss me too. Bring him here—let me see him, just once.”

“You were gone overseas for so long, he’s probably forgotten you. You know how stubborn he is.”

Before Chen Luoru could say more, Meng Jianchen took the phone and said, “Dad, Mom, I’m hanging up now.”

Chen Guanglong: “Alright. Take good care of Wan Wan for us.”

Meng Jianchen: “Understood.”

He ended the call with a blank expression.

This villain! He was even cutting off her last trace of warmth from her family.

After forty minutes of driving, they arrived at Langyue No.1.

The gates opened inward, and the car slowly entered the courtyard.

Butler Wu stood at attention in the courtyard with a group of maids and staff, all bowing respectfully.

As soon as Chen Luoru stepped out of the car, they all greeted in unison, “Ma’am, welcome home.”

She looked up at the two-story luxury villa, feeling like this was a prison Meng Jianchen had meticulously crafted for her.

Butler Wu stepped forward and said, “Ma’am, the dressing room has been cleared for you. Once your luggage arrives, the maids will take care of everything—you needn’t worry.”

But Chen Luoru was in no state to worry about her plane full of luxury goods. Her heart was just—tired.

“Breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat?” Butler Wu asked.

“I have no appetite,” she said flatly.

Butler Wu glanced at Meng Jianchen’s face and asked again, “Would you like to rest in the bedroom then?”

“Whatever.”

So Butler Wu ordered two maids to escort Chen Luoru upstairs to the master bedroom.

Seeing Chen Luoru walk off, Butler Wu asked Meng Jianchen, “Sir, Madam seems to be…”

“No need to bother with her,” Meng Jianchen lifted his hand, signaling him to stop talking.

After the maids helped Chen Luoru change her clothes, they quietly closed the door and left.

Chen Luoru lay on the large bed, staring up at the ceiling—lavish and ornate like the frescoes of a cathedral.

Grief and indignation overwhelmed her. All she wanted was to hang herself with a noodle and end her wretched life.

She thought of her Lucas, and her heart ached unbearably.

Ten minutes later, a heartfelt and emotional modern poem appeared on Chen Luoru’s Moments feed on WeChat.

While having breakfast, Meng Jianchen read the poem and fell into deep thought.

---

To Lucas:

Not all dreams can be fulfilled in time,
Not all words get said in time.
So let me say take care, take care again—
Within that farewell lies sweet sorrow.
Goodbye, my dearest Lucas.

---

She still had the energy to post on social media?

Meng Jianchen let out a cold snort and dialed Gao Qian’s number.

---

Two hours later, CBD Jinghong Tower.

Meng Jianchen stepped out of the car. He walked with a strong presence, eyes straight ahead. Employees stopped to nod in greeting as he passed.

He took the private elevator up to the 58th floor—the president’s office.

Gao Qian was already waiting inside.

Meng Jianchen sat in his executive chair, adjusted his cufflinks, and then finally asked in a slow, low voice, “The matter I asked about—how did it go?”

“President Meng, it’s been investigated,” Gao Qian replied. “Lucas is a mǎzǎi from the Chen family.”

In Guangdong, the term mǎzǎi refers to a low-ranking subordinate or lackey.

Meng Jianchen’s brows furrowed tightly.

She actually fell in love with a lackey?

And even wrote a poem for him?

She had the honor of being Mrs. Meng, and this was what she chose?

Meng Jianchen tapped his fingers rhythmically on the rosewood desk. After a long pause, he said, “Give him five million and send him abroad. He is never to step foot in this country again.”

Gao Qian froze, then asked, “Uh… how should we give it to him?”

Meng Jianchen shot him a sidelong glance. “Do I have to teach you that?”

Check or cash, in dollars or pounds—it didn’t matter.

Still confused, Gao Qian asked again to be sure: “You’re certain you want to give that mǎzǎi five million?”

“Too little?” Meng Jianchen clasped his hands together, gaze sharp and chilling.

After a moment of hesitation, Gao Qian asked, “Then… should we assign someone to take care of him?”

Meng Jianchen sneered, “What for? Can’t he take care of himself?”

For the first time, Gao Qian felt there was a serious miscommunication happening between him and Meng Jianchen.

Left with no choice, he pulled out his phone, brought up a photo, and held it up in front of Meng Jianchen.

Gao Qian asked cautiously, “President Meng… this is the mǎzǎi. How do you expect this to take care of itself?”

The photo showed a small white pony—its big, round eyes filled with confusion.

---

Sansukini: She should be an annoying type of person, but she’s so over dramatic, that it’s comedic. Her poor husband was jealous of a pony. (つ≧▽≦)つ He has the patient of a Saint.