Chapter 138: Malice from the Deepest Depths of the World

The old lady had known for a long time. For the past three years, Bo Jinxiu had barely come home. After some investigation, she discovered that he had been living at the Greenery Villa with a woman named Jiang Ciyou. Furthermore, he was being kept by this woman.

The woman’s background was quite complex: the fake daughter of the Jiang family and the daughter-in-law of the Yan family. Of course, the old lady also knew that Miss Jiang had been deeply wounded by love. Her husband was not a good man; he had eloped abroad with a mistress. It was in a fit of pique that Miss Jiang had crossed paths with Bo Jinxiu. Moreover, Jiang Ciyou and Yan Feng had never actually registered their marriage.

The old lady tacitly approved of this relationship. Bo Jinxiu had always been independent since he was a child. She was actually pleased that he had chosen to give up on the girl from the Shen family to be with someone else. If Bo Jinxiu had truly married Shen Qingqing, the Bo household would never know a day of peace. Therefore, she supported this relationship from the bottom of her heart.

In fact, she had met Miss Jiang once, at her own seventieth birthday banquet. Jiang Ciyou had gifted her a bottle of Liwang flower-infused agarwood that she had blended herself. It was exceptionally effective for sleep and tranquility. The supply was nearly exhausted, and she had actually been planning to ask for another box. Why, then, had this girl suddenly become entangled with Yibai?

The old lady’s expression turned somber. "Yibai, any other girl would be fine, but do not set your sights on Miss Jiang."

Shen Yibai was confused. "Grandmother, you have always been the most open-minded person. Why are you opposed to this? Is it just because she is the fake daughter the Jiang family picked up by mistake? Do you look down on her for that?" Shen Yibai’s understanding of Jiang Ciyou’s status was limited to what he had seen in online discussions.

The old lady sighed. She glanced at Bo Jinxiu and said, "At my seventieth birthday banquet, she came to pay her respects, accompanied by her husband." Her voice deepened. "She has been married. Even though she is separated from her husband now, your mother would never accept someone with that background. Yibai, your position is unique; you are the future of both the Bo and Shen families. The weight on your shoulders is not light. Many things in life cannot be done simply because you want them to be."

"So what if she was married? It is enough that she is single now. I don't care about a person's past; I only care about her future." Shen Yibai continued, "Besides, the Bo family has Uncle. I never intended to inherit the family business, and I won't inherit the Shen family's either. They can give it to whoever they want. I want to live my own life; I am not a tool for your family alliances."

"Does your mother agree?"

At the mention of Bo Wanhua, Shen Yibai grew indignant. "My mother is my mother, and I am me. Why must my life be subject to her approval and her arrangements?"

Bo Jinxiu spoke up calmly from the side, "Do you have the ability to stand up to her right now? You don't want to study abroad, yet she finds a way to send you. You don't want to come back, and she has ways to force your return. Whether you run away from home or fight back with all your might, she has a thousand, ten thousand ways to make you compromise." Bo Jinxiu looked at him steadily. "Think carefully: in your life, what have you ever truly decided for yourself?"

This left Shen Yibai feeling utterly dejected. In many aspects of his life, he had no control. His mother’s influence permeated every corner of his world. For years, the only skill he had mastered was avoidance—avoiding his mother’s sphere of influence. But this was merely a stopgap measure. He could never truly escape Bo Wanhua’s control forever.

Still, Shen Yibai stubbornly insisted, "I have a way to persuade my mother. No matter what, I am her only biological son; she wouldn't drive me to my death."

Bo Wanhua certainly wouldn't drive Shen Yibai to his death; in fact, he was her entire hope. Bo Jinxiu knew that while Bo Wanhua was strict and overly controlling with him, she loved her own son. There was no mother in the world who did not love her child. At this thought, a chill crept down Bo Jinxiu's neck. His mind flashed back to when he was ten years old, the scene of being pushed into the swimming pool by Bo Wanhua. The feeling of despair and suffocation returned. Even colder than the pool water was the memory of the few minutes she stood by the edge, watching him sink to the bottom.

As a child, Bo Jinxiu had actually been quite fond of his eldest sister, even though she was always cold and spoke harshly to him. He had relied on her because his mother told him that when he was born, the first person to hold him was his eldest sister. Perhaps because of that, she held a special place in his heart. But ever since he realized that for all these years, she had wanted him dead and had even taken action, he finally felt the deepest malice this world had to offer.

Regardless, while Bo Wanhua was cold and vicious, she was different when it came to Shen Yibai. A tiger would not devour its own cubs. Of course, Shen Yibai knew none of this. In his eyes, although the family was estranged due to inheritance disputes, they were still blood relatives linked by nature.

That afternoon, Shen Yibai went to find Jiang Ciyou. He waited at the television station until she finished work. Recently, Jiang Ciyou had been coordinating a new variety show, but the preparations were not going smoothly. Director Xie had only mentioned that they were launching a new program, but the type of show, the guests, the proposal, and the script were all non-existent.

The only thing known was that the show would begin recording in a week, and it would be a live reality show. It was a joint production between Rong Television and Beijing Television, with Rong Television acting only in a supporting capacity. Jiang Ciyou was following their arrangements entirely, contributing where needed and cooperating as requested.

That afternoon, her assistant, Qianqian, received an email. She said mysteriously, "Sister You, Beijing Television sent over the files. Look at the guest list—it actually includes Si Yufeng and Jiang Se!"

Jiang Ciyou knew Si Yufeng; he was Yan Yin’s idol. She had heard Yan Yin chatter about him until her ears were calloused. He was a three-time award-winning actor, a Hollywood darling, and currently the highest-valued male artist in the entertainment industry. Jiang Se was his equal—an ultra-A-list, multi-award-winning actress. The film she had starred in with Si Yufeng had just swept the film festivals, winning several major awards. Currently, the two often appeared together for publicity and were recognized as an on-screen couple.

Jiang Ciyou was quite surprised. Both were top-tier stars, and neither could be hired easily. It seemed Beijing Television was sparing no expense for this show. The second pair of guests was Wei Tingfang and Xu Yao. They were slightly less famous. Wei Tingfang was an A-list actor who started as a talent show contestant; he had studied Peking Opera since childhood, and his performance of "Farewell My Concubine" had made him world-famous, giving him a naturally classical aura. He was also known as the most handsome man in ancient-style dramas. Xu Yao, however, was not from the entertainment industry but a mega-influencer with tens of millions of followers. Her persona was that of an "original pure jade girl." She had many fans who had spontaneously formed an "Yao Army."

However, the names of two other guest pairs remained blank. Recording was about to start; had the guests not been decided yet? Jiang Ciyou was not anxious—it was not her place to be. She clocked out when it was time to leave. As she walked out of the television building, she saw Shen Yibai waiting outside. He was wearing his usual simple white T-shirt and light gray sweatpants. He seemed to have been waiting for a long time, standing by a flower bed, head bowed, hands in his pockets, boredly kicking small stones on the ground.