The trip ho was farther than Xifeng had imagined. They got on the ring expressway and headed east for about half an hour, almost reaching the seaside before exiting, finally driving into a villa district located in the Crescent City countryside.
Unlike thirty years ago when rural people all wanted to go to the city, wealthy people nowadays were the complete opposite—living well in the city but always wanting to run to the countryside.
Although called countryside, given Crescent City's level of developnt, this rural town's prosperity surpassed many second-tier cities.
The car finally stopped in front of a villa on the south side of the villa district. Sister Li got out to open the car doors for them, then a middle-aged man about fifty years old, wearing formal butler attire, walked out from the villa and bowed slightly to the two who had just gotten out: "Young Miss, Second Young Miss, welco ho."
"Mm, hello Uncle Chen." Bei Yaoyue rarely responded to Uncle Chen's greeting. She introduced to Xifeng beside her: "This is our family butler. Just call him Uncle Chen."
There was even a butler!
Xifeng felt sowhat overwheld. Having grown accustod to life at the bottom of society, suddenly stepping into high society made her extrely uncomfortable.
She suddenly thought of a strange question—if she and Bei Yaoyue got married, what would these people call her?
Young Madam?
Xifeng shook her head internally. No, that premise was wrong—she was clearly the man.
Bei Yaoyue was the Young Miss, so they should call her Young Master-in-law.
"Master and Madam are currently still working and will need about another hour before returning. Please, Young Miss and Second Young Miss, return to your rooms to rest first." Uncle Chen bowed respectfully as he spoke to them.
Following Uncle Chen into the villa while feeling uncomfortable all over, Xifeng asked Bei Yaoyue with an awkward laugh: "Is your family always like this? I'm a bit unused to it."
Her mory of family was everyone sitting together harmoniously drinking tea and chatting, not like a wealthy mansion from the Republic era with strict class distinctions. This gave Xifeng an indescribable sense of constraint.
"No need to be so formal." Bei Yaoyue waved her hand. "Don't be fooled by Uncle Chen's serious deanor—he's actually quite easy to get along with."
"Is that so..." Xifeng recalled Uncle Chen's respectful appearance just now, feeling she definitely couldn't get used to it in a short ti.
Stepping onto the upstairs staircase, Bei Yaoyue turned and beckoned Xifeng to follow, walking while explaining: "Uncle Chen was involved in politics in his early years and nearly went to prison due to political enemies' sches. In the end, Dad used connections to save him. After that incident, he withdrew from politics and voluntarily beca our family's butler.
"Uncle Chen has been our family's butler since I can rember, and he's always been good to ."
If there was any warmth in Bei Yaoyue's lonely childhood, it was Uncle Chen who had always been by her side caring for her. Therefore, Uncle Chen was currently the only elder Bei Yaoyue truly respected.
Years of living together had made the Bei Yao family regard Uncle Chen as family rather than a servant.
"Used connections?" Xifeng was amazed. "Isn't Dad a businessman? How can he reach into politics?"
"..."
Bei Yaoyue's steps paused briefly, then she continued walking as if nothing happened, saying softly: "This world isn't black and white. Even children's paintbrushes have dozens of colors—what more this world?"
"...True." Xifeng fell silent. Although Bei Yaoyue hadn't said it explicitly, the aning was clear.
But Xifeng could understand. Anyone who could climb to Bei Yaochen's level definitely had so connections with the underworld—that would be false to deny.
It's just that most people couldn't see those things hidden in the shadows. Bei Yaochen was perhaps just mingling on the edges of the gray area.
Perhaps because the topic was sowhat heavy, their conversation ended there, and they walked upstairs in silence.
This villa was four stories high. Xifeng estimated the floor area was at least 500 square ters. The decoration was, needless to say, visibly luxurious. The interlacing staircases were like a maze—without Bei Yaoyue leading the way, Xifeng felt she might get dizzy wandering around.
Along the way, they could see scattered maids doing cleaning work, all bowing respectfully when they passed by, making Xifeng feel even more pressure.
Butler, maids, personal driver... these words that were incredibly distant to the forr Xifeng were now all presented before her, and they had all beco her servants. This really made it difficult for soone who had been instilled with "all people are equal" concepts since childhood to adapt.
All she could say was... the power of money was truly too strong. No wonder so many people flocked to it.
Xifeng sighed that she had completely latched onto a wealthy young lady—directly flying up to beco a phoenix, a carp leaping through the dragon gate to join high society.
She again rembered Nanamo asking her a few days ago if she wanted to struggle thirty years less. Though she didn't want to admit it, the current situation was... she could already struggle seventy years less and go straight to retirent.
Bei Yaoyue's room was on the third floor. Pushing open the door, the expected scene of excessive otaku culture didn't appear. The room before her was decorated quite simply, even minimally to an extre degree, making one wonder if it was in the sa world as the golden and brilliant villa outside.
Worth noting was that many easels were placed in the corner of the room, but without exception, they were all covered with white canvas.
The room seed to have been uninhabited for a long ti, but the entire room was spotless, clearly cleaned regularly.
"Did you paint those?" Xifeng pointed at the pile of easels in the corner.
"Mm, I painted them when I was little."
"Can I look?" Xifeng was quite curious about what this artist who now drew yuri doujins and erotic illustrations had painted as a child.
"Go ahead."
Xifeng walked over and lifted the canvas covering one easel. She saw a white flower in the painting, pure as the moon, dotted among erald green branches and leaves, like a girl in a white dress dancing gracefully in the grass.
"What flower is this?" Xifeng scratched her head. Flowers basically all looked the sa to her—she couldn't see much difference.
But Xifeng could think of a few white flowers. She asked tentatively: "Is it a lily?"
"No."
Footsteps gradually approached, stopping behind Xifeng, and a pleasant fragrance wafted over.
Xifeng knew this was Bei Yaoyue's scent, very much like the fragrance of gardenias. She liked it very much.
Bei Yaoyue stared at that painting created by her five-year-old self, saying quietly: "This is a gardenia."
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