Chapter 9: Song Zhenhua Is Furious to the Point of Spitting Blood

Song Zhenhua dared not look directly at Jiang Jingming and quickly waved to call Sang Yu, who was blocked by Song Jiajia.

"Xiao Yu, come here."

Upon hearing the name, Jiang Jingming instinctively furrowed his brow.

Sang Yu stepped out from behind Song Jiajia.

The moment she stood beside Jiang Jingming, their eyes met.

Was it really her?

Both silently questioned in their hearts.

Seeing Jiang Jingming before her, Sang Yu recalled the day they had caught a human trafficker on the street and encountered that person.

His appearance was truly unforgettable.

Yet, she had never expected he was Jiang Jingming.

Jiang Jingming, too, had no idea that Xiao Yu was the girl who had twice stirred his heart.

Suddenly, his emotions stirred.

"Xiao Yu, once you marry into a family, you mustn't throw tantrums. You need to take good care of the household. Jingming is a police officer and busy with work; you have to be understanding," Song Zhenhua said earnestly, making it seem as if he deeply cared for his niece.

But acting was acting; anyone could do that.

"Uncle, I know. I will listen," Sang Yu replied.

Song Zhenhua nodded approvingly.

Jiang Jingming's gaze rested on Sang Yu, and the displeasure he had earlier completely vanished.

Suddenly, Sang Yu said, "Uncle, when will the dowry prepared by the family be given to me?"

Her eyes were filled with innocence as she looked at Song Zhenhua.

Song Zhenhua’s face instantly stiffened.

Chen Jinlan bluntly said, "Where would the family have any dowry left for you?"

Feigning surprise, Sang Yu responded, "None left? But I heard Aunt was preparing quite a bit of dowry for cousin Jiajia."

"Of course, Jiajia is my own daughter," Song Zhenhua said sharply, his expression turning grim.

Jiang Jingming cast a cold glance at Song Zhenhua and Chen Jinlan.

Sang Yu continued, "Actually, I understand Aunt might not have had enough time to prepare."

Hearing this, Song Zhenhua hurriedly said, "Yes, yes, since both of you sisters are getting married, there’s a lot to prepare, so your aunt must have forgotten."

"It’s alright, uncle. Since it was forgotten, why not just count the bride price Brother Jiang gave earlier as the dowry?" Sang Yu said, looking up at Jiang Jingming beside her.

Jiang Jingming lowered his eyes, gazing at the woman beside him, her eyes as pure as a young deer’s.

Sang Yu felt a bit uneasy, knowing she was partly gambling on this.

It depended on whether Jiang Jingming would stand with her; if not, that was fine too.

After all, she still had three thousand yuan.

But if he refused to side with her, she would only remain an acquaintance at best.

"Xiao Yu makes a good point," Jiang Jingming said in a low voice, as if backing her up.

Song Zhenhua cast a reproachful glance at Sang Yu. "Xiao Yu, you know the family’s situation."

Sang Yu interrupted, "Uncle, I understand. I know the family isn’t well off, so I could only sleep in a room that fits a single bed. I wanted to take some things to my in-laws today, but found that all my clothes were worn out hand-me-downs from cousin Jiajia. The room had nothing but a bed."

"I’m so scared. Going to my in-laws with nothing—wouldn’t they think badly of me?"

"Although Brother Jiang’s parents have passed away, he still has other elders. Besides, uncle, you took my parents’ three thousand yuan condolence money to keep for me until I grew up."

"You never gave it to me. I don’t blame you, though. If it weren’t for you taking me in, I might have…"

"Even though I do most of the chores at home—from washing clothes to cooking—it’s because you took me in that I’m grateful."

After speaking, Sang Yu lowered her head, wiped her tears, and her shoulders trembled.

It was heart-wrenching to watch.

Jiang Jingming’s heart ached hearing her, and his gaze toward Song Zhenhua and the others grew colder.

"Director Song, I didn’t expect your family treats Xiao Yu like this."

"Director Song, this is wrong. No wonder Xiao Yu’s clothes looked so familiar—they’re hand-me-downs from Jiajia."

"Director Song, it’s unfair to take their money and treat them poorly."

"Yeah, how can someone live in a room that only fits one bed?"

Sang Yu added softly, "The bed is only one meter wide."

"Goodness, how can anyone live like that? The balcony must be bigger than that room."

Accusations came from outside, making Song Zhenhua’s face darken.

Song Zhenhua’s gaze turned sinister as he stared at Sang Yu. Was she doing this intentionally or by accident?

Seeing this, Sang Yu stepped back fearfully. Jiang Jingming stood firmly in front of her, his tall frame shielding her completely.

A powerful sense of pressure swept toward Song Zhenhua.

He had no choice but to force a smile. "I… really don’t have much money at home."

Song Jiajia, unable to bear it any longer, glared at Sang Yu in fury, pointing at her.

"Sang Yu, how dare you say that? Our family is generous to take you in! How can you have the nerve to ask for money?"

None of that money could go to Sang Yu; it had to be saved for Lu Hao’s business.

Jiang Jingming turned his head, coldly looking at Song Jiajia, who immediately froze, unable to speak.

"That’s not how you should talk. Besides, you’re not poor. I overheard Song Jiajia bragging recently that Director Song prepared five hundred yuan in dowry for her."

"I heard that too."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Jingming turned to look at Song Zhenhua, his dark eyes deep and stern.

"Uncle Song, you’re the director of the textile factory. You should understand how your reputation impacts your work. If you can’t give a satisfactory answer today, I won’t hesitate to investigate thoroughly."

Upon hearing this, Song Zhenhua’s face turned pale.

He certainly couldn’t withstand an investigation.

Sang Yu was also surprised. It seemed this man was quite decent after all.

At least he was on her side.

She had worried he might still have feelings for Song Jiajia and would team up against her.

Biting his teeth, Song Zhenhua said to Sang Yu, "Xiao Yu, the family really doesn’t have that much money."

"It’s alright, uncle. You can write an IOU," Sang Yu said with an innocent smile.

Song Zhenhua was so angry that veins bulged on his neck.

Chen Jinlan glared furiously at Sang Yu, but Song Zhenhua loudly stopped her from speaking.

Then he said, "Fine."

Hearing this, Sang Yu took out the previous IOU for three thousand yuan and said, "Uncle, I don’t want Brother Jiang’s earlier bride price anymore. Since you prepared five hundred yuan dowry for cousin, I’ll take four hundred, after all, I’m not your biological niece."

Song Zhenhua was almost furious enough to spit blood. Three thousand yuan gone, and now he had to compensate an additional four hundred.

But for now, he had no choice but to comply.

Under Jiang Jingming’s watchful gaze, Song Zhenhua wrote an IOU for three thousand four hundred yuan.