The two young men carried themselves with striking poise and distinction. The one walking slightly behind wore a blue suit, his stern expression and resolute demeanor giving him an air of icy detachment. His features bore a faint resemblance to Chen Siran’s.
Leading the way was a man with a faint, gentle smile—the one who had just spoken. Unlike the formally dressed guests at the birthday banquet, his attire was effortlessly casual: a simple white shirt paired with beige trousers, exuding an understated elegance.
In such an occasion, dressing so casually could mean one of two things: either he was an insignificant nobody, or he was supremely confident, with no need to impress. Clearly, this man belonged to the latter category.
As the two entered the banquet hall, the crowd immediately swarmed around them with greetings:
“Young Master Qin!”
“Young Master Chen!”
Jiang Feng was no stranger to these two—Qin Junlin, the so-called “Number One Young Master of Yanjing,” and Chen Xufeng, Chen Siran’s older brother.
What puzzled him, however, was why Qin Junlin and Chen Xufeng would arrive together. Rumors suggested the Chen family had recently grown closer to the Li family, while relations with the Qin family were strained. Had they already reconciled and joined forces?
Moreover, while Chen Xufeng’s presence at his sister’s birthday was expected, Qin Junlin’s attendance was… intriguing.
But Jiang Feng quickly dismissed his thoughts, focusing instead on Qin Junlin himself.
Handsome as jade, spirited as a dragon—no wonder people said, “If you want a son, wish for one like Qin Junlin.” The man truly possessed looks that could inspire envy.
With such looks and bearing, even if he had been born lowly and incompetent, women would still flock to him. And Qin Junlin was far from incompetent—he was the eldest son of the Qin family, Yanjing’s most powerful clan, its future leader, a man of remarkable talent and achievements.
Now Jiang Feng understood why no man dared approach Ye Qingxuan except Xu Minmin. Everyone assumed she and Qin Junlin were a pair—who would dare challenge that? Only someone as reckless as the late Young Master Jiang, who had foolishly pursued her and paid the price.
The crowd naturally formed a circle around Qin Junlin and Chen Xufeng. Everyone except Jiang Feng, Chen Siran, Ye Qingxuan, and Xu Minmin had gathered around them.
Chen Siran turned to Jiang Feng apologetically. “Jiang Feng, my brother and Young Master Qin are here. I should go greet them.”
Jiang Feng nodded. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”
“Ah—no!” She grabbed his arm in a sudden panic. “Don’t go yet! I still have something to tell you. Please wait a little longer, okay?”
Jiang Feng was taken aback by her boldness. He hardly considered himself important enough for her to insist on his staying.
Realizing her outburst, Chen Siran quickly softened her tone. “Jiang Feng, I really do have something to discuss. Could you stay just a bit longer?”
Her pleading tone left him no choice. “Fine,” he relented.
Only then did she smile, hurrying off to greet her brother and Qin Junlin.
Xu Minmin shot Jiang Feng a mocking glance. “Young Master Jiang, how does it feel to have the spotlight stolen from you?”
Jiang Feng ignored her, calmly sipping his wine.
But Xu Minmin wasn’t done.
“She invited you sincerely, and all you gave her was a piece of paper? How shameless. At least you know when to leave—sparing yourself further embarrassment.”
She didn’t believe Jiang Feng’s so-called “ancient handwritten music score” was genuine. To her, it was a joke—one exposed when Jiang Hao forced him to present it publicly. Now, humiliated, he was trying to flee.
Ye Qingxuan tugged Xu Minmin’s sleeve. “Minmin, enough.”
“I’m not wrong!” Xu Minmin huffed. “Who knows if that’s really sheet music? It’s not like Chen Siran can play it here. And you—you wouldn’t either. He’s just trying to bluff his way through. Pathetic.”
Ye Qingxuan’s expression darkened. “Minmin, stop. Jiang Feng isn’t like that. If you keep this up, I’ll be angry.”
With a pout, Xu Minmin finally fell silent.
Jiang Feng paid no mind to her chatter, though he was mildly surprised Ye Qingxuan defended him. But then again, she was too refined to openly mock someone.
Xu Minmin suddenly grabbed Ye Qingxuan’s arm. “Qingxuan, Young Master Qin is here. Let’s go say hello.”
Ye Qingxuan hesitated. “No… I’m tired. I should head back.”
“If you leave the moment he arrives, even an idiot would know you’re avoiding him,” Xu Minmin argued. “If you really don’t want anything to do with him, just make it clear once and for all. It’s not like he’d cling to you like some people.”
Ye Qingxuan sighed. If only it were that simple. While she had no feelings for Qin Junlin, her family adored him—though their approval had less to do with him and more with the Qin family’s influence.
Before she could refuse again, Xu Minmin dragged her forward.
“Qingxuan, I knew you’d be here tonight,” Qin Junlin greeted with a smile.
His refined demeanor and gentle charm made him instantly likable—enough to dazzle the women around him.
Ye Qingxuan nodded faintly. “Young Master Qin’s presence must have made Siran very happy.”
“And you?” he teased. “Are you happy to see me?”
She remained silent.
Qin Junlin chuckled. “Still as serious as ever. You should learn to take a joke.”
Ye Qingxuan merely nodded again. “Young Master Qin, I’m feeling tired. I should go.”
But Xu Minmin cut in loudly: “Qingxuan, didn’t you say you had something to tell Jiang Feng? Why leave now?”
Ye Qingxuan froze. When had she said that?
The crowd turned toward Jiang Feng, sitting alone in the corner. Chen Siran glanced between him and Ye Qingxuan, sensing the lie—yet Ye Qingxuan didn’t correct it.
Qin Junlin had noticed Jiang Feng earlier but dismissed him. Yet Ye Qingxuan’s lack of denial intrigued him.
With a faint smile, he said, “Ah, Jiang Feng’s here too. Quite the gathering tonight. Jiang Hao, why don’t you invite him over for a drink?”
Jiang Hao, though the eldest grandson of the Jiang family, was far beneath Qin Junlin’s stature. Being ordered around like a servant rankled him, but he dared not refuse outright.
“Young Master Qin, Jiang Feng and I don’t get along. Even if I ask, he won’t come.”
Qin Junlin waved a hand. “You’re family. Surely there’s no lasting grudge? A shared drink might mend things. Two birds with one stone, no?”
Reluctantly, Jiang Hao approached Jiang Feng. “Jiang Feng, Young Master Qin wants you to join him for a drink. Come on.”
Jiang Feng frowned. “Not interested.”
Jiang Hao was almost glad. The more Jiang Feng refused, the more he’d offend everyone. He relayed the rejection to Qin Junlin.
Qin Junlin merely smiled, but Bai Pojun sneered, “How arrogant. Does he expect Young Master Qin to personally invite him?”
Chen Siran interjected, “Maybe he’s had too much to drink. Let it go.”
“Young Master Jiang has a high tolerance,” Bai Pojun goaded. “He’s not drunk—just disrespectful.”
Qin Junlin raised a hand. “Jiang Hao, try again. Just one drink, to make an acquaintance. If he refuses, so be it.”
Jiang Hao smirked, delivering the message once more.
Jiang Feng laughed. “If Qin Junlin really wants to drink with me, he can come here himself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jiang Hao snapped.
“You’re free to be his errand boy,” Jiang Feng said coolly. “I don’t share the habit.”
He wasn’t fooled. Qin Junlin had deliberately sent Jiang Hao, knowing full well of their feud. This was a power play—one Jiang Feng had no intention of playing along with.
And this so-called “Number One Young Master of Yanjing”? Arrogant beyond measure. Jiang Feng had no patience for him.
Jiang Hao’s face darkened. “Fine. My job’s done. Whether you go or not is your problem.”
When he relayed Jiang Feng’s words, the crowd fell silent.
Chen Xufeng, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice icy: “You don’t know what’s good for you. If you don’t accept my toast, you’ll have to drink a penalty!”