Chapter : 19
The exterior of the villa was resplendent in gold and jade, and the interior was equally luxurious. A single brick from this house could probably be worth an entire apartment elsewhere.
It matched perfectly with the elegantly dressed middle-aged couple sitting on the sofa.
The man was Song Zhaoguang, chairman of Baomu Group and Song Ling’s father. The woman was Song Xuelian, the first heiress of Baomu Group and Song Zhaoguang’s wife.
The two often appeared together in the media, portrayed as a loving couple.
Song Ling walked up to them and placed the luosifen on the coffee table. “Bought breakfast for everyone.”
Zhou Qingluo: “……” What a brat.
Song Xuelian covered her nose and stepped away. After taking two steps, she turned back and said disdainfully, “Like father, like son—bringing trash into the house.”
Song Zhaoguang immediately forced a smile. “Xuelian, go upstairs and rest first.”
At that moment, Zhou Qingluo suddenly felt that if Song Ling dumped the luosifen onto her delicately made-up face, it wouldn’t even be that excessive.
After finishing his appeasement, Song Zhaoguang’s expression darkened instantly. He strode over to Song Ling, furious, and shouted, “What are you doing? Are you trying to piss me off to death?”
Song Ling casually sat down on the carpet right in front of him and slowly opened the lid of the luosifen.
The cheap plastic lid was coated with a layer of red chili oil, and the pungent smell of pickled bamboo shoots and sour beans was overpowering.
Song Zhaoguang turned to Zhou Qingluo with an unhappy expression. “Take this stuff out.”
Zhou Qingluo: “……” Father and son arguing—what does it have to do with me?
Song Ling sneered. He calmly tore open a disposable utensil pack, took out a pair of chopsticks, stirred the noodles, then lifted his eyes to glance at Song Zhaoguang.
“When you used to deliver goods as a porter, did you dare yell like this? Shouldn’t you be smiling and apologizing like you did just now?”
Song Zhaoguang flew into a rage. He snatched the chopsticks from Song Ling’s hand and snapped them in half. “Song Ling, I’m warning you—don’t be as ungrateful as that bitch of a mother of yours!”
Song Ling remained unmoved. He opened another pair of disposable chopsticks and lazily said, “You married into the wife’s family and built your fortune, and now you’ve forgotten you used to be a porter. Luckily your wife’s surname is also Song—otherwise your kids would’ve had to take her name.”
Zhou Qingluo finally understood—Song Ling had called him here just to deliberately provoke his father.
He couldn’t help but admire Song Ling’s way with words. In just a few sentences, he had completely exposed Song Zhaoguang’s past. That sarcastic tone—full marks for mockery.
Somehow, Song Zhaoguang produced a leather whip. The way he looked at Song Ling was as if he were something unlucky and disgusting. He raised the whip.
The sound of it slicing through the air was intimidating.
Zhou Qingluo: “Hey, what are you doing? Domestic violence?”
Song Zhaoguang, already furious, no longer bothered to maintain his gentlemanly image. “What the hell does it have to do with you? Get out!”
“Domestic violence is illegal, you know. Acting this arrogant—does the police know?”
Distracted for a moment, Song Zhaoguang hesitated.
Song Ling looked up at him, his gaze cold and sharp, and sneered, “Go on. Hit me.”
Song Zhaoguang’s face flushed red with anger. His whole body trembled. His hand froze midair, and finally, in frustration, he threw the whip onto the ground.
The last time he hit Song Ling, the boy hadn’t fought back—instead, he hacked into the company’s financial system and sent the accounts to the tax bureau, forcing the company to pay billions in back taxes.
Song Ling was rebellious to the core. His gaze was fiercer than a wolf cub’s—completely ruthless, a madman who recognized no family ties.
At Jiang Shiyan’s graduation banquet, Song Ling had caused a scene, openly admitting he was a perverted homosexual, completely ruining Song Zhaoguang’s reputation. If he dared eat luosifen and affect Song Jinyi’s blood transfusion, Song Zhaoguang would beat him to death.
Zhou Qingluo hadn’t expected that delivering food would land him in the middle of such a dramatic family scandal.
He set down the last box of food and was about to leave when he glanced at Song Ling.
His head was lowered, his eyes dark and brooding. A cold smile lingered at the corner of his lips, like a beast that had been tormented for too long—ready to rise at any moment and tear its enemy’s throat apart.
Suddenly, Song Ling looked up, staring straight at Song Zhaoguang. The smile disappeared.
Song Zhaoguang froze and subconsciously took a step back. Though his body faltered, his tone remained harsh. “You bastard. Try eating even one bite of that.”
Song Ling suddenly laughed. “A bastard’s child—of course he’s a bastard.”
Zhou Qingluo: “……” Enough already. Do they think I’m invisible? Just exposing all this rich-family drama in front of me—aren’t they afraid I’ll tell reporters?
Zhou Qingluo couldn’t stand it anymore. Even though Song Ling wasn’t exactly a good person either, Song Zhaoguang was truly despicable.
He grabbed Song Ling by the arm. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to eat proper luosifen.”
He cast a disdainful glance at Song Zhaoguang and added, “Delivery noodles get soggy. They don’t taste good.”
Chapter 9
As soon as Song Ling left, Song Zhaoguang immediately ordered the servants to clean up the house.
He sat angrily on the sofa, regretting not whipping Song Ling a few more times.
But he didn’t dare.
That look in Song Ling’s eyes just now—it was terrifying. That reckless, desperate ruthlessness was exactly like his mother’s.
Song Zhaoguang had risen to power by relying on Song Xuelian, becoming the general manager of Baomu Group. Song Ling’s mother had only been his subordinate.
At the time, Song Xuelian was pregnant, while that woman was beautiful, charming, and highly capable. One year, while drunk, he forced himself on her—Song Ling was the result.
He hadn’t expected her to be so unyielding. Even at the cost of her reputation, she dragged him down with her. If not for the Song family using money to suppress the matter, he would have returned to that dark warehouse life, driving a van to deliver goods.
The woman endured endless humiliation. She sent her suicide note to a newspaper, then jumped from the company building—once again pushing him into the public spotlight.
Fortunately, information was limited back then, and money could settle everything.
Song Zhaoguang was somewhat afraid of Song Ling. He felt as if the ghost of that woman lingered within him. If not for Song Jinyi…
He frowned and sighed.
At that moment, Song Jinyi walked over and sat beside him, gently patting his shoulder. “Dad, don’t be angry.”
Song Zhaoguang: “How can I not be angry? That little bastard…”
