She looked about twenty, dressed in a well-tailored black maxi dress beneath a white wool coat of obvious quality.
No eye-catching jewelry adorned her.
Only a minimalist rose-gold vintage watch on her slender left wrist.
Classic and understated, it quietly hinted at extraordinary provenance.
She carried an aloof, bookish beauty.
Brows like a painting, a refined nose, naturally pale-pink lips.
Long jet-black hair fell softly past her shoulders, ends curled just slightly.
Most striking were her eyes—elegant in shape, light in hue, like amber steeped in a clear spring.
Right now they rested on Jiang Cheng with open curiosity.
Meeting his gaze, she showed no fear, her look direct and unflinching.
After being the first to glance away, she stepped forward lightly.
Graceful yet modest, she dipped slightly and said in clear, pleasant tones, "Greetings, Grandfather. I'm Lin Jianwei."
She offered no further résumé; the surname said everything.
She was Lin Hong's granddaughter.
Lin Hong added at just the right moment, a trace of pride in his voice, "Jianwei just returned from Cambridge—Classics and Comparative Politics. Quiet child, always reading or listening to music. I tease that she's more an old-time schoolmistress than a Lin."
Great-Grandfather gave them both a cursory nod. "All good kids."
With that, the young man turned to Jiang Cheng, offered a politely curious smile, and extended his hand.
"So you're Brother Jiang Cheng? Pleasure. I'm Lin Chen."
The instant Jiang Cheng's name was spoken aloud, Great-Grandfather's expression shifted.
His brows snapped together; his gaze shot like lightning first at Lin Hong, then at Qiu Yihe's maternal uncle beside him.
The accusation and chill in that stare were almost tangible.
Qiu Yihe's maternal uncle's embarrassment flipped to shock and panic.
His eyes bulged; he shook his head hard.
His lips mouthed frantic denials, cold sweat beading at his temples.
Seeing this, the old man kept his calm, though the air around him seemed to thicken.
Jiang Cheng's very name had long been deliberately blurred and shielded by the family, never formally made public.
From the start Jiang Cheng had been using his Mind Perception Skill to monitor everyone's thoughts.
He naturally sensed the tension between his grandfather and Lin Hong.
Inwardly wary, he let none of it show.
He clasped Lin Chen's hand—dry and strong, yet oddly cool beneath that smile.
"Pleasure," Jiang Cheng answered evenly, as if the name had never been secret.
Lin Hong drank in every micro-reaction, his own smile widening.
To Great-Grandfather he said, "Brother Jiang, we're old, but seeing the youngsters grow—delightful. Lin Chen, Jiang Cheng… rather similar names, isn't it?"
As if struck by a thought, he slapped his brow and turned to Jiang Cheng with playful elder's warmth.
"Oh, Nephew Jiang, here's a tidbit. My boy's Chen is the one from 'imperial palace'—sounds grand, heavy burden. I prefer the 'Cheng' your grandpa chose: sincerity, a promise worth a thousand gold. Down-to-earth, able to bear the world. Fine name, deep meaning!"
Praise on the surface, yet barbs beneath.
He cast Lin Chen's 'Chen' as supreme ambition, one-upping them.
Then claimed to 'prefer' Jiang Cheng's 'Cheng', framing it as needing to stay grounded—hinting the Jiang Family should know its place.
Yet Jiang Cheng merely lifted his eyes, a calm, almost amused smile touching his lips.
Ignoring his grandfather's darkening face, he met Lin Hong's sharp gaze and spoke evenly.
"Grand-Uncle flatters me. Names are elders' gifts, each carrying hopes. 'Chen' is lofty, inspiring; 'Cheng' is plain, meant to be lived. My grandpa teaches that 'sincerity' means keeping faith with men, seeking truth in affairs, serving the nation with loyalty. Only a lucid heart lights the road and fears no long journey. As for how far one can go…"
He paused, letting his gaze drift to the quietly poised Lin Jianwei.
Then back to Lin Chen, voice still mild yet threaded with steel.
"…it likely depends not on whether the starting point is palace or field, but on whether every step is taken on a path that lets us face ourselves without shame. Don't you agree, Brother Lin Chen?"
Great-Grandfather's usually impassive face now showed open approval.
He took up the thread, voice steady and strong.
"Well said. 'A lucid heart fears no long road.' Names and starting points are external. Without root, 'Chen' is a castle in air; with backbone, 'Cheng' becomes a highway to heaven. How far we go is decided here—"
he tapped his chest—"and here."
His gaze, solid as iron, swept past Lin Chen and settled on Jiang Cheng, admiration undisguised.
With that, grandfather and grandson settled the score.
They lifted Lin Hong's veiled barb to the plane of character and destiny.
Effortlessly they defused the name-based suppression and countered, stressing that heart and vision are what truly matter.
Lin Chen's eyes narrowed; for a moment he had no reply.
And Lin Jianwei, who had seemed merely an observer, felt her cool amber gaze flicker.
The curiosity in her eyes rippled wider, like a stone dropped in still water.
'A lucid heart fears no long road… a path without shame'—spoken so quietly, yet they carried weight.
Interesting. This man was no simple character.
Lin Jianwei lowered her lashes, masking the keen interest that flashed across them.
He was nothing like the tentative or ambitious stray she had imagined.
His retort, soft yet barbed, had even drawn her brother in, forcing him to respond.
Such poised confidence and ability to raise the stakes so swiftly went far beyond mere cleverness.
Seeing Lin Chen falter, Lin Hong's eyes flickered, though his smile never slipped.
He laughed. "Old brother speaks truth—wise words! The children's road is long; let's wait and see."
After a few more pleasantries Lin Hong took Lin Chen and Lin Jianwei to leave.
As she turned, Lin Jianwei glanced at Jiang Cheng again; the curiosity in her amber eyes lingered, now tinged with something more complex.
In that instant Lin Chen's gaze crossed Jiang Cheng's.
No smile remained—only cold, appraising sharpness and a spark of challenged pride.