Chapter 070: The Proposal

Like most CEOs, Jin Youqian’s office was located on the top floor of the Imperial Capital Tower.

The view was expansive; the location superb, offering a sweeping panorama of the entire cityscape of Kyoto.

When Song Wan was ushered into the CEO’s office by Wu Yi, Jin Youqian sat behind his desk, his expression stern and composed, exuding an air of so-called “abstinence” that was popular nowadays.

Well, all of it was just a façade.

Song Wan sneered inwardly, but maintained a calm exterior. “Mr. Jin, what exactly did you mean by that post you made online?”

Jin Youqian hadn’t expected Song Wan to be so blunt. His eyes flickered.

“Mr. Jin?” Song Wan looked up at him.

“You’re an artist under my management. I said you should ride the wave of popularity,” Jin Youqian looked at her, the corner of his lips curling slightly. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

Indeed, what could be wrong with it? For most CEOs, this would simply be business as usual.

But this wasn’t just anyone—it was Jin Youqian. Moreover, he wasn’t the only one involved; the wealthy Mrs. Jin had joined in on the spectacle, not content with just watching, but personally engaging in online spats with fans, each word claiming to be Song Wan’s mother-in-law.

“Everything about it is wrong!” Song Wan glared at him, anger radiating from her eyes.

Seeing the argument about to erupt, Wu Yi’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly excused himself and left Jin Youqian’s office.

Jin Youqian didn’t spare Wu Yi a glance, his gaze fixed intently on Song Wan. “What’s wrong with it? Isn’t it common nowadays to use rumors to boost popularity and raise an artist’s profile? You’re the only artist under my management; I’m using minimal cost to put you in front of the fans—isn’t that what a boss ought to do?”

Song Wan squinted slightly, her attitude wavering.

Jin Youqian smiled. “Don’t forget, I’m a businessman. I would never do anything that doesn’t yield profit.”

“But Mrs. Jin…”

She couldn’t deny she’d considered such possibilities, but Mrs. Jin’s participation had shattered her illusions.

She wanted to see how Jin Youqian would distance himself from his mother’s actions.

“What does my mother’s actions have to do with me?” Jin Youqian found it amusing. “You don’t seriously think I made her go online and announce you as her daughter-in-law, do you?”

Song Wan didn’t answer, but her gaze spoke volumes—she had indeed suspected as much.

“If I really did, my father would definitely reprimand me,” Jin Youqian explained impassively.

Yet he concealed a truth—

Even if his father tried to interfere, it wouldn’t affect Jin Youqian in the slightest; it would only serve to anger his mother.

Jin Zongquan’s greatest fear was his wife’s dramatic fits—her tears, tantrums, threats. At most, he’d glare at Jin Youqian, but anything more he simply wouldn’t dare.

Song Wan didn’t know this. She simply assumed Jin Youqian was a capable heir, but like anyone else, no matter how powerful, he couldn’t possibly be entirely fearless before his father.

And Jin Zongquan’s devotion to his wife was renowned throughout the country.

She found herself starting to believe Jin Youqian’s words.

“But how do you explain Mrs. Jin’s behavior?”

This time, Jin Youqian made no effort to hide anything from Song Wan. “Because my mother heard about you from Uncle Feng.” He paused, regarding Song Wan with a half-amused, half-serious look. “Surely you haven’t forgotten Uncle Feng? He’s probably been delivering lunch to you lately.”

Song Wan: “…So it was Uncle Feng. Haha.” Her laughter was painfully awkward.

“Yes. I recall your first meeting with Uncle Feng was at my villa, wasn’t it? That time, you… hmm, went to great lengths to hitch a ride to my place, so you really can’t blame me.” Jin Youqian’s eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. “You brought this upon yourself.”

Song Wan: “…I want to die!”

She glanced at Jin Youqian, discovering his gaze was full of gleeful anticipation, with no intention of offering any explanation on her behalf.

If only time could turn back—she’d dug herself a deep pit, and now she had to fill it herself, no matter what.

…

Noticing Song Wan seemed to have misunderstood, Jin Youqian kindly explained, “I’m actually a very kind person. When I discovered my mother’s posts pulling us together online, I explained everything to her immediately.”

“Then why did she…”

“You know me, I’m rather ‘abstinent,’ so my mother developed some rather unfortunate suspicions.”

Jin Youqian spoke lightly, but Song Wan felt her heart pound. “What suspicions?”

“First, she wondered if her son was frigid,” Jin Youqian smiled. “I think that’s actually a pretty reasonable guess.”

Song Wan: “…If you could erase that night from my memory, I might believe you.”

Seeing Song Wan’s skepticism, Jin Youqian merely cast her a fleeting glance. “Second, after I turned twenty-three, my mother had another suspicion.” By then, she’d already conceived him, and had been entangled with his father for two or three years. “Because of my father, she didn’t believe I was truly virtuous, so she often wondered if I was… impotent.”

“Pfft—” The news hit her unexpectedly; Song Wan nearly split her face with laughter.

She’d heard a little about Jin Youqian’s father, Jin Zongquan—a notorious playboy, embodying the classic CEO archetype in literature: fickle, indulgent, treating love as a game, yet blessed with wealth and looks.

But Mr. Jin, you just openly claim you’re impotent? Isn’t there a shred of embarrassment?

Perhaps Song Wan’s gaze was too penetrating, because Jin Youqian easily picked up on the message she was trying to convey. He merely laughed dismissively, unconcerned. “Don’t you know firsthand whether I’m impotent, Song Wan?”

Thinking of that night…

Song Wan looked at Jin Youqian with feigned seriousness, rolling her eyes. “Frankly, Mrs. Jin’s guess is quite plausible.”

Now it was Jin Youqian’s turn to be speechless. He stared at Song Wan. “Are you serious?”

Song Wan lowered her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Absolutely. More genuine than a pearl.”

Jin Youqian: “…Alright, let’s proceed to the next suspicion.”

Song Wan burst out laughing, but quickly stifled it under Jin Youqian’s cold gaze, her shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth—her amusement was obvious.

Jin Youqian withdrew his gaze. “The third suspicion is that I might be gay. I suppose you and my mother probably have plenty in common on that front.”

His expression was icy, as if he might swallow Song Wan whole.

It was both an unexpected and entirely predictable answer, but Song Wan merely showed a hint of surprise, no other reaction—

Isn’t that normal? A twenty-eight-year-old eternal bachelor—what else could people think?

Honestly, had she been more informed back then, knowing Jin Youqian had never touched a woman, she wouldn’t have targeted him, much less tried to get close.

But fortunately, the outcome had been favorable.

Though she hadn’t managed to seduce Jin Youqian into bed, she had undeniably benefited from it.

…

Unexpectedly, these unfavorable suspicions turned out to be Mrs. Jin’s own thoughts. One could only say this family had a certain… comedic streak?

“So? Is Mr. Jin explaining your mother’s thoughts to tell me something?” Song Wan’s mind was still spinning, unable to see the connection.

“How can you be so dense?” Jin Youqian frowned, displeased.

Song Wan shot him a look, but given her current need for help, she refrained from retorting.

Jin Youqian glanced at her, then said, “Because of these bizarre ideas, my mother’s requirements for my partner have dropped to nothing more than being female.”

Song Wan’s eyes widened. Was marrying into a wealthy family really this easy nowadays?

“Moreover, because I keep my distance from women, whenever my mother sees someone who can get close to me, she tries to matchmake us. You’re not the first, but you’re clearly the one she’s most invested in.”

Song Wan: “…Should I feel honored?”

“Mm-hmm, if your goal is to marry me.” Jin Youqian’s expression remained unchanged, though a flush crept up his ears.

Song Wan: “…Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

“Is there really no solution?” Song Wan was anxious; she hadn’t expected Mrs. Jin’s actions to stem solely from her own whims.

Suddenly, a thought struck her: if Uncle Feng’s daily lunch deliveries were exposed, wouldn’t that cement the rumors?

Song Wan grew increasingly flustered. “Mr. Jin, is there truly no solution?”

Jin Youqian hadn’t expected Song Wan to be so resistant to the idea of being with him. He’d thought that by casually hinting marriage would be easy, she’d rush at the opportunity, as she had before…

Had Song Wan stopped approaching him not because she realized their difference, but for another reason?

“Why not seize this perfect chance and just marry me?” Jin Youqian asked, puzzled.

Song Wan was utterly dumbfounded. “…Mr. Jin, what did you say? The wind was too strong just now; I didn’t catch that. Would you mind repeating yourself?”

Good heavens, what kind of development was this?

Was Mr. Jin proposing to her? Could this be real?

Jin Youqian, of course, didn’t believe she hadn’t heard him. He assumed she was refusing him, and his face darkened.

Seeing the gloom in his eyes, Song Wan grew uneasy. “Um, Mr. Jin, why me? Aside from my looks, do I have any other merits?”

For someone like Mr. Jin—a scion of a top-tier family—shouldn’t his match be a genuine socialite, skilled in music, chess, literature, and art, spending her days chatting, sipping tea, arranging flowers? Song Wan had always known she lacked those qualities.

She considered every possible reason: maybe she had a good personality, maybe she was talented, maybe she was young—but never anticipated Jin Youqian would give such a bizarre answer—

“Oh, because you can support yourself.”

wtf? What kind of reason was that?