CHAPTER 52: YOU LOOK BETTER WHEN YOU DON’T OPEN YOUR MOUTH

"Do you know? You look so much better when you don’t open your mouth," Qi Jianyi whispered harshly, her frustration bubbling over.

Her glare could have turned stone to dust as she stared at Song Chengfeng, who stood beside her with that innocent, clueless expression. His silence was deafening, and his utter lack of awareness only fueled her irritation.

Song Chengfeng, still oblivious to the full extent of his blunder, remained motionless. What more could he do now? He had already said what he thought was necessary, and there was no taking it back.

At worst, they would have to endure He Zeqing’s impending lecture, which was already a looming certainty. Resigned to his fate, Song Chengfeng mentally prepared himself for the inevitable scolding.

However, He Zeqing had reached his boiling point. His sharp, stern voice cut through the air like a knife, freezing both of them in place.

"Both of you still dare to whisper around me? Really?" His tone was dangerously low, every word weighted with restrained anger.

He glared at them both, his eyes cold as ice. His fist clenched tightly at his side, the knuckles white from the sheer force of holding back. It took every ounce of self-control for him not to swing at Song Chengfeng right there and then. If that man dared utter even one more word, He Zeqing wasn’t sure he could keep his temper in check.

The tension thickened, and Qi Jianyi knew that He Zeqing was barely holding it together. She glanced at Song Chengfeng, whose expression had finally shifted, a hint of realisation dawned on him—though, by now, it was far too late.

Qi Jianyi inwardly cursed the situation. The last thing she wanted was for these two to butt heads. "Cousin Zeqing," she started carefully, her voice calm, though there was an edge of urgency. "It’s not what he said—"

But He Zeqing wasn’t in the mood for explanations. His narrowed eyes were fixed on Song Chengfeng, who was now on the receiving end of his silent fury. The atmosphere between them grew thick with unspoken challenges, and Qi Jianyi could sense the storm brewing.

Song Chengfeng, the master of bad timing, opened his mouth. "What? We’re just—"

Qi Jianyi quickly seized the chance and snapped at him. "Shut up!"

"He Zeqing, are you going to listen to me or make a fool of yourself in front of everyone?" Qi Jianyi’s voice carried a dangerous edge, the warning clear.

Her words were indirect but laced with enough threat that He Zeqing knew what was at stake. If he refused to listen to her explanation, there would be consequences, and he wasn’t eager to face her anger.

Fortunately, He Zeqing wasn’t as dense as the clueless Song Chengfeng. He felt the slight chill in her tone, a subtle reminder that pushed him to think twice. His clenched fist, ready to strike, relaxed as he took a step back and composed himself.

He wasn’t backing down out of fear of Song Chengfeng—no, it was because he dreaded the idea of Qi Jianyi being truly angry with him. The mere thought made him pause.

Still, his heart twisted at the sight of her standing by Song Chengfeng’s side. He gritted his teeth, the surge of jealousy almost choking him. The fact that she was protecting Song Chengfeng, standing up for him, only fueled the fire of resentment burning in his chest.

’What kind of brother is this?’ He fumed internally. ’How dare he set his sights on his best friend’s sister?’

No matter how hard he tried to rationalise it, He Zeqing simply couldn’t accept this. The idea of Song Chengfeng pursuing Qi Jianyi gnawed at him like a persistent itch that wouldn’t go away. His decision was swift and resolute—he would oppose this relationship, however long it took, whatever the cost.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind. ’Maybe I should tell Uncle Qi about this. His only daughter is about to be abducted by a scoundrel, and he doesn’t even know it.’

A smirk played at the corner of his lips as the plan took shape. He Zeqing had found his solution. If he couldn’t stop Song Chengfeng directly, he would make sure her father rejected the match before it even began. He would create a stumbling block so large that even Song Chengfeng’s best efforts would crumble.

Little did Song Chengfeng know, before he could even begin his journey of courting Qi Jianyi, his would-be father-in-law had already turned against him—all thanks to He Zeqing’s swift interference.

Qi Jianyi walked briskly toward the café, her thoughts running ahead of her steps. He Zeqing and Song Chengfeng followed close behind, an odd silence stretching between them.

Though her intent for her meeting with Song Chengfeng was straightforward, Song Chengfeng’s blunt words had somehow muddled everything. What should have been a simple explanation now felt like a minefield.

The café’s gentle hum of conversation was a small comfort as the three of them sat down at a square table. He Zeqing positioned himself across from the pair, his posture rigid, narrow eyes sharp with silent judgement. He didn’t bother hiding his clear disapproval, his gaze flicking between them as though he were observing a crime scene.

Once the waiter had left with their order, Qi Jianyi took a breath and jumped into the conversation. "First of all, what Cheng—" she paused, feeling the heat of He Zeqing’s eyes narrowing further, "what Young Master Song said earlier was completely off. We are not on a date. I’m only here to repay a favour I owe."

She could feel He Zeqing’s silent reproach intensifying, forcing her to adjust her tone. It was as if any slip would only serve to strengthen his already ironclad assumptions.

"So, cousin Zeqing," she continued, forcing a smile and a nonchalant shrug, "can you stop looking at me like I’ve committed some sort of crime? Besides, even if we were going out, what’s the big deal?" she added, leaning back in her chair with deliberate casualness,

As the words left her mouth, a nagging thought prodded at her: Why was she explaining herself to him in the first place? She hadn’t fully grasped why his opinion mattered so much, and yet here she was, painstakingly detailing every nuance of her non-existent relationship with Song Chengfeng.

He Zeqing’s jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, dangerous even. "Are you saying you’d actually consider dating this bastard?"

The pointed word "bastard" hung in the air, thick with contempt.

On cue, Song Chengfeng turned to her with an amused look, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "You’d really be okay with a relationship with me?"

Qi Jianyi stared blankly at him. "...?"

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Her mind raced back over everything she had said. How had things devolved into this? She had poured out her reasoning, laid it all out, and yet here they were, obsessing over one offhand comment about dating.

A tired sigh escaped her lips. "When did we get here?" she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Are you really fine dating him?" He Zeqing repeated, his voice colder, more cutting. He jabbed a finger in Song Chengfeng’s direction, his face twisted in disgust.

"Jianyi, I suggest you think twice—no, don’t even think about it. This bastard doesn’t even have a job. What can a jobless, useless man give you?" His words dripped with disdain, as if he were genuinely offended by the mere idea of their relationship, even though one didn’t exist.

Before He Zeqing could go on, Song Chengfeng’s deep voice cut through the rising tension. "Have you said enough?"

The air seemed to grow heavier as he fixed He Zeqing with a sharp, warning stare, his expression dangerously calm. His gaze, steely and cold, carried an unspoken threat: Say one more word and you’ll regret it.

Qi Jianyi, however, remained largely unaffected by the growing tension. Her expression stayed blank, as though none of this concerned her.

Song Chengfeng turned to her, his eyes softening just a touch. "I’m rich," he said simply, his voice low. The sentence hung in the air, incomplete but laden with meaning. He didn’t need to finish it; Qi Jianyi knew exactly what he meant.

She glanced at him, mildly amused by his attempt to appear macho. Should she blush? Feel flattered? Instead, she kept her usual blank expression, a flicker of irony hidden beneath it all.

"Thank you," she said casually, "but I have my own money." Her words were firm yet unassuming, effectively shutting down whatever advances Song Chengfeng had been attempting.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but it was gone before it could settle. Relationship? she scoffed inwardly, lowering her gaze to her drink, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass.

’I don’t even know if I deserve one,’ she thought, a shadow crossing her mind as memories of her past relationship surfaced. It had not ended well, and the scars from it still lingered, deep and raw.

She knew herself enough to understand the risks. Any relationship she entered now would likely crumble under the weight of her unresolved regrets. She would ruin them. That much was certain.

For a moment, Song Chengfeng said nothing. His eyes lingered on her, searching for something in her expression, but found nothing more than the casual indifference she always wore. Eventually, his gaze drifted away, the silence between them growing heavy.

He Zeqing, too, remained silent, sensing the tension that now laced the air. There was a strange satisfaction in having achieved what he’d set out to do, but at the same time, watching Song Chengfeng get rejected before he even had a chance to try left a small, unexpected twinge of pity in him.

As much as he disliked the guy, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.