The Moon Runs to Me

His words were subtle, carrying a double meaning—the clear intent to protect her was unmistakable, and he’d subtly taken a jab at Wen Minzhu’s lack of grace.

Qin Sang blinked, instinctively looking up and meeting his clear, penetrating gaze.

He was looking at her. Speaking up for her.

The realization made her heart skip a beat. Flustered, she quickly averted her eyes, pressing her lips together, suddenly nervous.

Old Master Xie let out a chuckle, breaking the tension. “My wife and I are advanced in years—we can’t make many decisions anymore. And this grandson of mine is a man of strong opinions. He knows what’s good and what isn’t, and he’ll judge for himself. As for the rest…”

“I’m old—I prefer peace and quiet, can’t stand the noise. That unfilial son of mine has caused enough scandals. My wife and I had no choice but to move to Ningjiang. From now on, we just want to enjoy our retirement in peace.”

If Xie Yuncan had left a sliver of room for interpretation, Old Master Xie had made his position crystal clear: they’d moved to Ningjiang for a quiet retirement. They had no intention of hosting banquets or accepting visitors, and certainly not just anyone with a calling card could come calling.

Wen Minzhu had only succeeded in shooting herself in the foot. Her attempt to ingratiate herself had backfired, and she’d been publicly snubbed. The old commander’s stance was plain—he had no interest in this marriage alliance.

What was even more telling was that after laying down his position, Old Master Xie turned around and was exceptionally gracious toward Wen Shuyu and her daughter, as if he held them in high regard. He smiled and said, “Mrs. Qin, I recently acquired a celadon-glazed plum vase from the Qianlong period. I heard from Hengyu that you’re a connoisseur. I have no use for it myself—I’d rather offer it to someone who can appreciate it. That way, it won’t have been a waste.”

Someone at the table gasped and whispered, “The celadon-glazed carved sea-dragon plum vase from the Qianlong period—that must be the one that just sold at Christie’s in Hong Kong. I heard it’s the best-preserved monochrome-glazed official kiln piece currently in circulation. The final bid was over eighty million Hong Kong dollars—a fortune.”

“Such an expensive vase, given away so easily—could Old Master Xie have taken a liking to the Wen family’s niece? Could he be… looking to forge a marriage alliance?”

Even Wen Shuyu didn’t dare accept such an extravagant gift. She demurred, “Old Master Xie, this is far too precious. We couldn’t possibly accept something so valuable.”

“Mrs. Qin, you’re mistaken. A gift isn’t about its monetary worth—it’s about whether it’s given to the right person. If I think you’re worthy, then you are. Besides, no matter how valuable something is, in the hands of someone who doesn’t appreciate it, it’s worthless—a waste of effort.”

Old Master Xie spoke with warmth. “Mrs. Qin, there’s no need to sell yourself short. I find young Sang Sang very pleasing to the eye, and my wife also enjoys watching her films. If you have the time, I hope you’ll bring Sang Sang to visit—consider it fulfilling an old woman’s small wish.”

He’d just said he wanted peace and quiet and didn’t want irrelevant people bothering him, then turned around and extended a personal invitation, even offering gifts. Even the dullest person could guess his intentions.

Old Master Xie had clearly taken a liking to Qin Sang and wanted to form a marriage alliance with Wen Shuyu’s family. Wen Hengyu’s star was rising—he was thriving at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, about to take office and advance rapidly. A marriage alliance with the Wen family would be a powerful union.

Still, it puzzled some—Wen Minzhu’s daughter was also an accomplished niece, and the Wen family had more than two nieces. If the goal was simply to unite with the Wen family, wouldn’t marrying one of Wen Hengyu’s own nieces be the best choice?

Regardless of his exact intentions, the message was clear: Old Master Xie had set his sights on Qin Sang as a prospective granddaughter-in-law. Why else would he repeatedly speak in her defense and treat her and her mother with such deference?

The aunts and uncles who’d been scheming to curry favor with Old Master Xie and arrange a match fell quiet.

What was there to fight for? Even Wen Minzhu, her own aunt, had been publicly humiliated. Wasn’t the Xie family’s stance clear enough? They’d come for Qin Sang tonight. Everyone else was just a supporting player.

Wen Shuyu was uncertain whether to accept such a valuable gift.

Wen Hengyu made the decision for her. “Take it. This is Sang Sang’s blessing.”

The meal had been filled with hidden agendas. By the time it ended, Wen Hengyu and Old Master Xie still had matters to discuss and didn’t leave immediately. But the other uncles and aunts who came out quickly surrounded Wen Shuyu, trying to curry favor.

“Congratulations, Shuyu—you’ve truly come through the hard times. Sang Sang is so accomplished, so beautiful and filial, and now she’s gained the favor of the Xie family. Her future is boundless. We hope Sang Sang will look out for us uncles and aunties in the future.”

“Yes, Sang Sang hasn’t had it easy. Right at the critical juncture of the gaokao, Old Qin had that accident—alas, fate. But thankfully, Sang Sang has been determined, and now she’s a household name. My granddaughter tells me many students at her school are Sang Sang’s fans.”

“Exactly. My useless kid insisted on starting a business—what business? He went out and made a mess of things, then came crawling back for me to clean up after him. If he were even half as sensible as Sang Sang, I’d die happy.”

Wen Shuyu had a gentle nature and didn’t know how to refuse. The relatives surrounded her, heaping praise—first on her parenting, then on how her perseverance had paid off. But whenever they mentioned Qin Dahai, a shadow crossed her face, and her smile became strained.

Wen Minzhu was the most resentful and humiliated. She’d endured the meal with difficulty, and now, stepping out, she saw Wen Shuyu and Qin Sang surrounded by admirers. It only infuriated her more.

In the past, she and Penny had been the ones courted and flattered. These people hadn’t even been worthy of tying their shoes. Now they’d surpassed her, climbing over her and Penny.

Furious, Wen Minzhu couldn’t help but sneer, “Sister, you’re truly skilled! So you were already in cahoots with the Xie family all along. Why bother having Big Brother use me as a go-between to arrange things for your daughter? Making me look like a fool, kept in the dark and toyed with—are you pleased with yourself?”

“Minzhu, I truly didn’t know beforehand…”

Wen Shuyu was taken aback. She hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, but instinctively tried to explain.

Wen Minzhu flung her hand away, her expression sharp and venomous. “Save the innocent act! You two are so cunning and calculating—using Penny and me as stepping stones for your daughter. What a kind aunt you are—truly wicked to the core.”

“That’s enough.” Qin Sang had held back all night, but seeing Wen Minzhu grow even more overbearing, her pent-up emotions finally exploded. “Aunt Minzhu, we both know who’s truly wicked. You’ve always looked down on us, been relentlessly cruel to my parents. When has my mother ever held it against you? Even after my father died, you wouldn’t let up at his funeral. What did you say to others? You said my father was doomed to die young—useless in life, unlucky in death.”

She’d heard it clearly, seen it plainly—the disdain and arrogance on Wen Minzhu’s face as she’d said those words to others. She’d once dismissed it as her aunt being spoiled by her grandparents. But this wasn’t being spoiled—this was sheer malice, unwilling to spare even the dead.

Qin Sang took a deep breath, struggling to contain her emotions. But she’d held it in for too long. Now that it was out, she was trembling all over, her voice shaking. “I never said anything before, out of respect for Cousin Penny, to save you face. Don’t mistake my mother’s kindness for weakness. Don’t push your luck. If you push me too far, I’m not afraid to burn this bridge completely.”

Wen Minzhu was unrepentant, sneering, “What, did I say something wrong? Qin Dahai was born unlucky. What could he ever accomplish? During New Year visits to the Wen family, he couldn’t even present a decent gift. You had the nerve to show your faces. Your father was useless, and so are you—couldn’t even get into college. What right do you have to compare yourself to Penny? In what way are you fit to be mentioned in the same breath?”

“What’s all this noise?”

Wen Hengyu, drawn out by the commotion, happened to catch Wen Minzhu’s venomous tirade. He snapped, “Wen Minzhu, is this how an aunt behaves? Get lost—now!”

Wen Minzhu lorded it over the Wen household, but she was terrified of Wen Hengyu. She shrank back, though she still refused to back down. “I only spoke the truth. Big Brother, are you going to side with them too? Qin Dahai was a failure in life, and he deserved to die that way. Qin Sang couldn’t even get into university—why are you playing favorites, only planning for her? She’s your niece—isn’t Penny yours too?”

She craned her neck, refusing to admit any fault, genuinely believing she’d done nothing wrong. She wouldn’t stop, opening her mouth to continue: “Qin—”

But before she could finish, a sharp slap rang out. Wen Minzhu clutched her cheek, staring in disbelief. Wen Shuyu—usually so gentle and kind—was red-eyed, glaring at her with fierce intensity. “Shut up! You have no right to speak about my daughter!”

This drama was more entertaining than any play. The onlookers scarcely dared to breathe.

Only Qin Sang stood frozen, her eyes dazed, looking past Wen Hengyu. Behind him stood a man with clear, proud features—just standing there, he exuded an aloof, noble bearing.

At seventeen, she’d stood in an office, called in for a scolding over poor grades. Xie Yuncan had been just a step away then, yet it had felt like a chasm.

The exam papers on the desk had been glaringly obvious, and the shame had nearly consumed her.

Back then, all she’d wanted was to run away.

And now, before everyone’s eyes, Wen Minzhu’s unbridled mockery had torn away the last veil of decency.

She wanted to flee, but her legs were rooted to the ground.

The covert glances, the barely concealed contempt—they all made her feel utterly exposed.

It was as if she’d been stripped bare and paraded through the streets, the pitiful shreds of dignity she’d so carefully guarded now being dissected piece by piece, with no privacy, no shame.

It was peak dining hour, and the restaurant was bustling with patrons. Wen Minzhu’s voice carried, her undisguised taunts and humiliation drawing the attention of many diners.

“Isn’t that Qin Sang?”

“It looks like her—I think it is!”

“It’s Qin Sang! It really is her!”

The murmuring crowd grew restless, recognizing her.

Qin Sang stood still, her expression lost and dazed, as if she’d lost all sense of judgment. She couldn’t hear what anyone was saying—only a ringing in her ears, as if there was nothing left in the world except that one slender figure.

Suddenly, that figure drew closer—so near, within arm’s reach.

A shadow fell over her. The faint mint scent enveloped her like a cage. She looked up blankly. His clear, steady eyes reflected her pale, troubled face. Her still-trembling hand was suddenly grasped, his warmth chasing away the chill that had spread through her.

She was lost, confused—like being in a foggy forest, wandering back and forth, unable to find the way out.

Then, he appeared like the last ray of light to someone on the brink of death, gently shielding her weary body, hiding her completely from prying eyes and malicious speculation.

He held her hand, tucking her behind him, shielding her from hostile stares and probing glances.

He led her, his voice steady and calm, soothing her frayed emotions.

“Don’t be afraid. Come with me.”