Chapter 50: She's Beyond My Reach

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When Jiang Mian followed Wen Jinhua upstairs to the room where the elderly Wen patriarch was resting, Shen Xiyao was already inside. Several elders of the Wen family were present as well.

“Grandpa Wen, I miss you too, but I’m doing quite well abroad—very free and easy,” Shen Xiyao said vividly as she sat beside the old man, leaning sideways against the armrest of her chair.

The old Wen patriarch was delighted by her words, his eyes nearly crinkling with laughter.

“You kid, you only think it’s freer outside. Are you really not planning to come home?”

She waved her hand coquettishly, “Oh, my parents can’t control me. It’s so much freer out there—I have no intention of coming back.”

“You don’t know, my advisor really likes me and even wants me to stay on for further research.”

“Well, well, that’s promising!” The elder Wen, experienced and wise, never insisted that children follow strict family rules. Whenever possible, he allowed them freedom.

This lively young girl always brought him immense joy whenever she spoke.

Wen Jinhua approached with Jiang Mian, and only then did the old patriarch lift his gaze to scrutinize the person beside him.

Cool and aloof, with an air of solitary clarity that seemed to say he alone was sober while the world was drunk.

Such a demeanor, the old man had only ever seen in two others before—Jiang Mian was the third.

Although they had briefly crossed paths at a hotel last time, it was only a passing glance without much observation.

Now, as he looked her over, the familiar sensation grew stronger.

The old man stayed silent; no one else spoke either.

Wen Jinhua glanced around, then turned his head toward a few uncles. “Grandpa, I’ll keep you company here. Why don’t the uncles go attend to their own affairs?”

“Good idea. The old man likes Jinhua best; we won’t disturb him.”

With that, they exchanged looks, rose one after another, and took their leave, heading downstairs.

It was a subtle way to clear the room, but Shen Xiyao was not swayed, sitting firmly and motionless.

Wen Jinhua glanced her way; she averted her eyes, refusing to acknowledge the signal.

The old patriarch noticed their exchanged glances and slightly turned his head toward Shen Xiyao. “Xiyao?”

Before he could finish, she suddenly sat up straight. “Grandpa Wen, is there anything I’m not allowed to hear? Mian Bao is my good friend, after all.”

“Oh? You two know each other?” The old man smiled, his eyes turning toward Jiang Mian.

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She smiled softly and nodded, her voice gentle. “Yes.”

“Then let Xiyao stay.” He said this to Wen Jinhua.

With the old man’s words, Wen Jinhua had nothing more to say. He glanced at Shen Xiyao, pursed his lips slightly, and shook his head.

There was a seat nearby, and the old patriarch gestured for Jiang Mian to sit down—there was no need to be so formal.

He wasn’t a stern patriarch.

Jiang Mian nodded lightly, taking Wen Jinhua’s suggestion and sitting down, turning slightly to nod toward the old man.

“Mr. Wen.” She would never address him as “Grandpa Wen” so familiarly like Shen Xiyao—after all, their relationship was hardly close.

Wen Jinhua sat on the other side of the old man, separated by a small square table with tea cups arranged atop it.

He pursed his lips, half-smiling, and poured himself a cup of tea.

The old patriarch looked at Jiang Mian with some satisfaction. “Jiang Mian, if I call you Mian Mian, you wouldn’t mind, right?”

“No problem.” She smiled, sitting somewhat upright.

Her demeanor was truly well-behaved, which the old man found quite endearing. He squinted as if trying to see through her.

Jiang Mian dared not speak recklessly. Saying the wrong thing could lead to unpredictable consequences.

Meanwhile, Shen Xiyao gently swayed beside her, smiling at her. Jiang Mian struggled to avert her gaze, resisting the distraction.

After a long moment, feeling somewhat embarrassed, the old man cleared his throat twice and slowly began to ask.

“Mian Mian, you’re not married yet, right? What do you think of Jinhua?”

“Ah?”

Not only Jiang Mian was stunned, but Shen Xiyao also froze, turning mechanically to look at the old man, then slightly leaning forward to glance at Wen Jinhua, who was sipping tea.

The teacup paused abruptly at her lips, the scent of tea lingering, yet both their gazes were fixed entirely on him.

He remained calm and unbothered, as if not hearing the question, taking another sip before slowly setting the cup down.

Honestly, Jiang Mian thought it was hard to comment when the main subject was right there.

What exactly did he mean by that question?

She bit her lip, carefully choosing her words before slowly answering: “Mr. Wen, he is the epitome of excellence, a leader in the industry, my role model and aspiration—the best person.”

While speaking, she discreetly observed the expressions of the old man and Wen Jinhua, then added, “He’s someone I don’t dare to reach.”

Wen Jinhua lowered his eyes, tilting his head slightly, leaning back in his chair.

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He seemed to smile, though it was faint.

The old patriarch glanced at Wen Jinhua, knowing him well enough to recognize the clearly pleased expression.

And he claimed he had no feelings for Jiang Mian? Did that look like no feelings?

The old man snorted inwardly but showed nothing on his face, only nodding slightly. “Mian Mian’s evaluation of him is quite high, but I don’t quite see it that way.”

Jiang Mian blinked, instinctively licking her lips.

Which part did he disagree with—the praise or the response? She dared not guess.

Shen Xiyao waved the old man’s arm with a smile and leaned in close.

“Grandpa Wen, don’t tell me you like Mian Bao and want her to be your granddaughter-in-law?”

She asked openly without a hint of subtlety. Jiang Mian wanted to protest, but realizing the occasion, she swallowed the words, her eyes silently pleading with Shen Xiyao to stop.

But Shen Xiyao paid no mind and even raised her eyebrows at Jiang Mian.

Wen Jinhua turned his head. Shen Xiyao only dared to speak so freely because of the old man’s fondness for her.

He couldn’t say anything either. If he did, the old man might think he didn’t care for his sister.

But Shen Xiyao wasn’t really his sister; the Shen family had no blood ties with them.

The old man seemed momentarily taken aback by the question, then appeared to consider its feasibility, glancing toward Wen Jinhua.

“Xiyao, this isn’t something Grandpa can decide alone—it takes both of them to agree.”

“Oh, I get it!” She acknowledged the idea but recognized it couldn’t happen without their consent.

Shen Xiyao winked at Jiang Mian and gestured toward Wen Jinhua.

“Go get him!”

Jiang Mian closed her eyes, wishing her soul could leave her body—every additional second felt unbearable.

How was this any different from a funeral? She couldn’t just agree with the old man’s words.

Feeling anxious and at a loss for the right words, she began, “Mr. Wen, between me and Mr. Wen, actually—”

“Grandpa, you’re worrying too much.”