Chapter 452 — Guan Xuewen's Sense of Crisis
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 2
"She won't." Wei Zhao shook his head. Was Guan Xin that sort of person? From what he knew of her, she was not.
He chatted a while longer with Guan Xuewen about matters of medicine, and when he saw the hour had grown late, Wei Zhao rose to take his leave. His schoolbag was still at school—he would have to go back for it.
"Grandpa Guan, I'll be off then. Call me if anything comes up," Wei Zhao said.
"Not waiting for Xinxin to come home? I meant to keep you for dinner," Guan Xuewen said with some regret—regret, on one hand, for the academic questions they had left unsettled, and on the other, on Xinxin's account.
Could Wei Zhao and his granddaughter ever be together? As an elder, Guan Xuewen dearly wished Wei Zhao would become his grandson-in-law. But ever since Qiu Lingshan had appeared on the scene, and after hearing Yang Huaijun's attitude, Guan Xuewen had begun to feel a sense of crisis.
Wei Zhao's attitude, however, gave him some comfort: at least Wei Zhao did not seem to care much for Qiu Lingshan, and the fact that he could place the shares in his granddaughter's hands showed his trust in Xinxin—and that put Xinxin ahead at the starting line...
"Another time." Wei Zhao glanced at the time on his phone. "I still have to get back to school."
"That works too—another time, then." Guan Xuewen did not press him. Things were different now, after all: he and Wei Zhao were partners, and Wei Zhao would no doubt be a frequent guest in his home from now on.
Wei Zhao left Guan Xuewen's house and drove straight to school. The moment he stepped into the classroom, the bell for the last evening study session rang out.
Gu Mengyao and Shen Yushu had grown used to Wei Zhao's frequent absences and could not be bothered to ask about them. Only Gu Mengyao felt a little aggrieved: Wei Zhao was her follower, and this was working hours—so why did the fellow keep vanishing?
"Wei Zhao, you're back?"
Wei Zhao had barely sat down when a soft, frail voice scared him half out of his wits—he nearly slid right off his chair.
Feng Xiaoxiao's eyes curved into crescent moons, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and she looked at Wei Zhao with an expression that was unbearably cute. She pulled a bottle of drink from her desk. "Thirsty? I bought this specially for you."
"...Are you all right?" Wei Zhao stared at Feng Xiaoxiao in disbelief. Even if his relationship with her had not sunk to the level of a blood feud, it had at least reached the heights of a father-killer's grudge. Wei Zhao could not fathom why Feng Xiaoxiao would treat him this way. Could it be a dagger hidden behind a smile?
"All right? Why wouldn't I be?" Feng Xiaoxiao blinked in puzzlement. "What could possibly be wrong with me? Why do you ask?"
Her counter-question left Wei Zhao momentarily speechless. He could hardly say, You got drenched in my piss and had firecrackers set off against your backside—we share a deep and bitter hatred now, so you shouldn't be acting so gently toward me.
But that was hardly something he could bring himself to say aloud.