Chapter 21 — Is This Also Male Chauvinism?
Unaware of the strange looks on the people’s faces around them, the tension in Mr. and Mrs. Song Yongming’s eyes was obvious and urgent.
“President Jiang, we truly wish to apologize to Miss Jiang in person. Please… could you let us meet her?”
Jiang Yucheng opened his mouth, dazed for a moment before he finally seemed to come to himself and answered somewhat blankly:
“Xuxu… isn’t here.”
Hearing that, the Songs grew flustered and quickly pressed him with more questions.
“Miss Jiang hasn’t returned yet? When will she be back? Would it be all right if we waited here for her?”
Everyone in the Jiang household exchanged awkward looks.
How were they supposed to explain that Xuxu had already moved out, and wouldn’t be returning today at all?
Seeing their silence, the increasingly anxious Songs grew even more nervous.
“President Jiang!”
Just as Jiang Yucheng was about to respond, Jiang Huai—who had been standing beside him—stepped forward.
“Xuxu probably won’t be coming back tonight. If Uncle Song and Aunt Song are in a hurry, I can contact her myself. If she’s available, I’ll personally take you to her.”
“That would be a great help,” Song Yongming replied without hesitation, too desperate to be polite. “Please do.”
Jiang Huai nodded kindly and stepped aside to make a call. A moment later, he returned.
“Xuxu already knows the situation,” he said. “She’s on her way to the Song residence now. She’ll meet you there directly.”
When they heard that she would come to them in person, the Songs were overjoyed. After a hasty round of thanks, they excused themselves and left in a hurry.
Jiang Huai immediately offered, “I’ll drive you there.”
Song Yongming understood his intention at once—Jiang Huai wanted to ensure that his cousin wouldn’t be at a disadvantage when she arrived. But right now, with their daughter in danger, he had no time to care about such subtleties.
As the car disappeared into the night, the Jiang family finally began to grasp the gravity of the situation.
“For the Songs to be that desperate to see Xuxu… could something have happened to their daughter?” asked the third aunt uneasily.
Jiang Yucheng frowned deeply, his face grim.
“Most likely. And I suspect it’s exactly what Xuxu warned them about.”
The Song family’s villa was not close to the Silver River No. 1 complex—it took over thirty minutes by car to reach it.
Around the same time, Xuxu herself arrived at the front gates.
Seeing the girl in a simple T-shirt and jeans, Song Yongming was momentarily taken aback. He already knew her age, yet she looked even younger and more innocent than he had expected.
His wife, however, had lost all trace of the earlier distance in her demeanor. Now her gaze burned with desperate hope.
“Miss Jiang,” she said, voice trembling, “it was reckless of me to act on my own earlier today. Thank you so much for coming anyway.”
Xuxu had come to resolve the issue; she showed no arrogance, only calm composure.
“Let’s go inside,” she said quietly.
The Songs immediately led her in, explaining as they walked.
“Every afternoon after her nap, Lier takes a walk in the community’s play area—that’s her routine. You warned me this morning, but I foolishly took it lightly and let her go out again this afternoon. Then she disappeared on the way back. At first, we thought she’d been kidnapped…”
“But about ten minutes later, the security guards found her near the fountain, so we relaxed, thinking it had just been a false alarm. But as soon as we got home, she suddenly fainted. No matter how we called her, she wouldn’t wake up. Even the family doctor can’t find the cause…”
Madam Song’s voice faltered; anxiety and sorrow clouded her eyes. She looked at Xuxu and continued shakily:
“The doctor was helpless, so we arranged for a full hospital examination. That’s when I noticed something fall from her body as I picked her up…”
It was the talisman Xuxu had left behind. Madam Song had originally ordered it thrown away, but little Lier had found it interesting, picked it up, and secretly kept it on her.
Now, the talisman had turned to black ash—but strangely, its shape remained intact. No one understood what it meant until the butler recognized it as Xuxu’s charm.
Lier had no burns or injuries of any kind. Only the talisman had burned.
For the rational, materialist Madam Song, this was an incomprehensible phenomenon. But the elderly matriarch of the Song family, who knew a bit about Taoist practices, said:
“If the yellow charm turned to ash, it means it blocked the evil. But since the child still hasn’t woken up, the evil hasn’t been fully expelled yet. You must call the young lady back.”
That was when Madam Song finally thought of Xuxu again—but she was afraid that after the insult earlier, the girl might refuse to help. So she and her husband had gone personally to apologize. For their daughter’s sake, pride no longer mattered.
Sensing their genuine worry, Xuxu offered rare words of comfort.
“Don’t worry. I told you before—your daughter’s fate carries great fortune. Even if some vitality has been drained, her life is not in danger.”
As they spoke, they reached the room upstairs.
The moment the door opened, a tongue of flame surged toward them.
The Songs cried out in shock; Song Yongming instinctively pulled his wife back. Jiang Huai, standing behind, tried to shield Xuxu—but she raised her hand and flicked her wrist lightly.
The flames vanished instantly.
Before the stunned couple could react, the scene inside came into view.
An altar had been set up in the room. A middle-aged man in a yellow Taoist robe stood before it, holding a peachwood sword. He was chanting under his breath and waving the sword through the air.
The flames just now had come from his spell.
Although Song Yongming had suspected his daughter might have encountered something “unclean,” the sight of this obviously theatrical display made the veins at his temples twitch.
He turned toward the older woman in the room and demanded, half exasperated,
“Mother, what on earth is going on here?”
The person he addressed was the Song family’s matriarch—known for her “devout faith.” A plump, dignified lady typical of noble families, she hurried to explain:
“They said the child ran into something filthy, didn’t they? So I called on a familiar master to come help. Don’t worry, the Grand Master said it’s nothing serious. Once the ritual is complete, she’ll wake up—and might even become a little wiser.”
Madam Song spoke up, looking embarrassed.
“Mother, we already said Yongming and I would invite the master ourselves.”
Even without knowing Taoist customs, she understood that calling two spiritual practitioners at once was improper.
But the old lady brushed it off impatiently.
“What’s wrong with having several people take a look together? I’m doing this for the sake of your precious daughter, you know. If I didn’t care, would I be this anxious?”
As she spoke, her eyes shifted toward the girl standing beside Madam Song—Guan Xuxu—and the young man next to her, Jiang Huai. Suspicion clouded her gaze.
She knew Jiang Huai—the Jiang family’s eldest grandson. Which meant the so-called “master” must be the little girl next to him.
Her brows knitted together.
“So this is the ‘grand master’ you two invited? She looks like nothing more than a little girl.”
Her tone dripped with open disdain—for the simple reason that the person before her was female.
Xuxu’s brows arched slightly.
So even in this field… there’s sexism too?
