The car drove down the road, destination: Imperial Garden.
Imperial Garden, nestled in the side of A City's mountain, was home to top tycoons. Land in Imperial Garden was priceless.
An hour and a half later, the car stopped in front of a luxurious European-style villa.
"Young Master An'an is back."
An elderly man in a neat suit, with a spirited demeanor, stood respectfully at the villa entrance. Upon seeing the car, he smiled and walked forward, "Is the young master tired?"
"Grandpa Chen."
Steward Chen nodded in acknowledgment, and took the schoolbag from Wen An'an's hand. "The Master and Mistress are already waiting in the garden with the young master's favorite pastries."
Wen An'an did not, as usual, go directly to the garden. He stood by the car door.
"Shall we go see Grandpa and Grandma together?"
Looking at Wen An'an's expectant gaze, Fang Miaomiao found the words of refusal stuck in her throat.
Fine.
Fang Miaomiao's lips curved upwards, "Then please lead the way, An'an."
Wen An'an said nothing, but the irrepressible upturn of his lips betrayed his current mood.
Steward Chen glanced at Fang Miaomiao with a hint of surprise.
This Mistress of theirs, ever since marrying Master Zhiyan, had barely set foot in Imperial Garden. Even for the fixed weekend family gatherings, she rarely attended.
This time, upon hearing that the Mistress was hospitalized, the Old Master had suggested she return to Imperial Garden to recuperate. Although they knew she surely wouldn't return, they had to extend the invitation in name.
When Master Zhiyan had first agreed to this suggestion, they were very surprised. They wondered if the Master had forcibly asked the Mistress to return, but today, the Mistress had surprised him.
Before, this Mistress had never paid anyone any mind, not even the adorable Young Master An'an.
This time, not only did the Mistress acknowledge Young Master An'an, but she had also, unprecedentedly, nodded and greeted him, appearing exceptionally approachable.
"Mistress Miaomiao, this way, please."
Led by Steward Chen, the two entered the villa.
What met their eyes was a path paved with pebbles. On both sides of the path, the lawns were adorned with potted plants and trees of various shapes, a feast for the eyes.
After passing through the path and a moon gate, they reached the villa's first courtyard.
The courtyard was fragrant with the scent of flowers.
Ornamental bamboo groves and trickling water added a touch of coolness to the sweltering summer.
"Mistress Miaomiao, Young Master An'an, the Old Master and Old Mistress are waiting in the flower room," Steward Chen paused at the moon gate, offering Fang Miaomiao a standard, polite smile. "Please."
"Thank you."
Finally, led by Wen An'an, Fang Miaomiao turned so many corners that she felt dizzy, before vaguely spotting the silhouette of the flower room.
Calling it a flower room was not inaccurate, it was more like a pavilion. A pond surrounded the pavilion, and lotus flowers swayed gently in the breeze.
Fang Miaomiao couldn't help but sigh. In her past life, she had acted as a wealthy young lady before, but seeing Imperial Garden today, she realized what it meant to be a mere dabbler.
The wealthy young ladies she played could go wherever they pleased, but here, whatever they wanted to see was replicated one-to-one within the estate.
Indeed, poverty limited the imagination.
"An'an is here."
Two elders in the pavilion were chatting.
The man wore a Republican-era long gown, his white hair neatly combed, and he wore a pair of glasses, resembling an old scholar. The old lady also wore a qipao; time had left its mark on her face, but it also added a timeless elegance.
The old lady quickly noticed Wen An'an standing by the water's edge.
"Hello, Grandpa, Grandma."
"Dad, Mom," Fang Miaomiao nodded in greeting.
"Mm."
"Miaomiao, you're here. Sit," the Old Master nodded kindly at Fang Miaomiao, "Are you still feeling unwell anywhere?"
"No, no, I've recovered quite a bit. Thank you for your concern, Dad."
Only then did the old lady shift her gaze from her precious grandson to Fang Miaomiao. "I told you, after marrying Zhiyan, you should just stay home and take care of your husband and children. But you wouldn't listen."
"It was my carelessness," Fang Miaomiao could only smile.
"Alright, Lian'er, is there anything wrong with a child persisting in pursuing what they love?" The Old Master poured a cup of tea and handed it to Ran Lian. "Children grow up, and eventually, they have to strive for themselves."
Ran Lian glared at him. "Fine, fine, I can't win against you, alright?"
Fang Miaomiao could only offer an awkward smile: Help, why did she come to Imperial Garden so early? Can someone save her?
As if sensing Fang Miaomiao's thoughts, Wen An'an tugged at Ran Lian's sleeve. "Grandma, variety shows are very fun. I even made a friend."
"Oh?" Ran Lian smiled and looked down at Wen An'an, saying dotingly, "An'an made a little friend on the show?"
Their An'an, from a young age, disliked talking and even more so, disliked playing. Compared to playing with other children, An'an preferred to stay in his room, playing with his building blocks and puzzles all day.
Initially, they worried if their child had psychological issues. During that period, they consulted psychologists daily, but every single one of them stated that An'an had no problems.
They said some people were born to prefer solitude, and forcing them into lively crowds might even be counterproductive.
They doted on their grandson, and coupled with his significantly higher intelligence than ordinary children, they eventually accepted the psychologists' advice and let the child play alone.
Unexpectedly, upon returning this time, their little darling claimed to have made friends to play with. How could this not make the two old folks happy?
"Really? Sweet grandson, tell Grandma, who is this child? What does their family do? Grandma tells you, if their family isn't well-off, we shouldn't be friends with them."
"Lian'er," the Old Master called out displeasedly.
"What are you calling out for? Am I not speaking the truth? In the entertainment industry, how many truly wealthy people are there? Those actors and actresses, they fawn over the wealthy and even instigate things. If I don't teach An'an to discern people," Ran Lian cast a displeased and veiled glance at Fang Miaomiao, "they'll be deceived later and won't even know it."
Fang Miaomiao: "..."
Completely unnecessary. She finally understood why the original owner disliked returning to Imperial Garden the most. This old lady's veiled and open criticisms were unbearable for anyone.
"Miaomiao, don't take her words to heart. She has a sharp tongue but a kind heart," the Old Master pushed pastries towards Fang Miaomiao. "I heard you were returning, so I asked the kitchen to prepare your favorite red bean cakes. Try them."
"Thank you, Dad."
"Whether some people can even taste good things is another matter."
Fang Miaomiao smiled at the Old Master: She was Wen Zhiyan's mother. As the saying goes, "three strikes and you're out." She would endure. She would endure again. She was a well-behaved, high-caliber citizen. She wouldn't stoop to the level of an old woman and quibble.