This... isn't quite right, is it? Her father is barely cold in his grave.

He only thought this to himself. The poor girl had already lost her family and was heartbroken enough; there was no need to provoke her further.

"Okay, okay, don't cry," Sun Dasheng comforted her while making a phone call.

Soon after, Da Yong came over and whispered in his ear, "President Sun, the moving company you requested has arrived. Should I have them come up now?"

"Mhm, let them come over."

"Should we set her up in the housing rented by the company?" Da Yong asked. He asked because the company offered great benefits. It rented many subsidized apartments for its employees, who only had to pay half the market rate while the company subsidized the other half. The company had rented several buildings directly from real estate developers, naturally securing significant discounts, and some of the apartments were still vacant.

"Yes, set her up there. And remember to pick the one in the best condition," Sun Dasheng added.

Da Yong nodded. "Understood. I'll go take care of it."

The family of prospective buyers, who had been watching the commotion from their doorway, saw the imposing figure of Da Yong followed by a procession of burly movers. They instantly pulled their heads back inside and shut the door firmly.

Damn it, who the hell said this girl was helpless and alone? You nearly got me killed! I was actually thinking of making a move...

The speaker was the family's son, his hair dyed a garish yellow. He was cursing behind the door, glancing resentfully through the peephole from time to time. Just then, his portly mother grabbed him by the ear. "You don't learn anything good, only the bad habits of your gambling, womanizing father."

"Ow, ow, ow! Let go, Mom!"

In the end, a mother's heart is soft, and she released her grip on her son.

"Mom, I was just talking big. I wouldn't actually dare to do something like that," Blondie said, though his thoughts were a different matter entirely.

"You'd better mean it. You saw what happened today, didn't you? If you keep up your usual behavior and offend someone you can't afford to, you can just wait for me to come collect your corpse," his mother said, her eyes unexpectedly welling up with tears.

Blondie immediately panicked. "Mom, my dear Mom, please don't cry! I promise, I'll stop hanging out with those bad influences."

"Really?"

"More real than solid gold," Blondie swore.

Inwardly, he was already cursing those so-called friends up and down. Damn it! They deliberately fed me false information and nearly got me killed. And they still expect me to hang out with them? Hmph! Since you don't value loyalty, don't blame me for playing mind games.

Once everything was pretty much packed up, Sun Dasheng turned to leave. Suddenly, he noticed a postcard that had been slipped under the door. As if worried that the person outside wouldn't take it seriously, the cover was deliberately marked with the words: "The Real Story Behind the House Sale."

Interesting.

Sun Dasheng walked over and slipped the postcard into his pocket.

With tears still brimming in her eyes, Xiang Zixuan asked, "Uncle Sun, what did you just pick up?"

"Oh, just a cute little card. Do you want it?" Sun Dasheng feigned reaching for his pocket.

Xiang Zixuan quickly refused. "That's probably not one of my father's belongings. He never wrote cards." She had only asked because she was worried a memento of her father's had been missed. Seeing that it wasn't, she lost her curiosity.

"Uncle Sun, where are we going now?"

Looking at the girl before him, who resembled a panicked fawn from a nature documentary, Sun Dasheng smiled and patted her head. "Don't worry, I've already arranged a place for you. It's where our company employees live, so there are a lot of other young men and women there. If you find it uncomfortable, you can tell your Uncle, and I'll arrange something else for you."

"No need!" Xiang Zixuan shook her head quickly, then looked up at him. "This is wonderful. Thank you, Uncle Sun."

"Silly girl, you're already calling me Uncle. What's there to thank me for?"

"Oh..." His gaze was a bit too intense, and Xiang Zixuan lowered her head.

「Downstairs.」

Another person was waiting for them. Xiang Zixuan broke free from Sun Dasheng's side and rushed toward her.

"Tian Tian!"

"It's okay, Zi Xuan, I'm here. Don't cry. You still have me as your friend, so you won't be alone. Don't worry," Yang Xintian said, trying to comfort her. But being just a child herself, she didn't quite know how, and her words had the opposite effect, making Xiang Zixuan cry her eyes out all over again.

This earned her a sharp look from Sun Dasheng. She responded with a playful wink at Uncle Sun and a pout, as if to say she didn't do it on purpose.

After a moment, a luxury car pulled up in front of them, and Da Yong got out. "President Sun, Miss Xiang's accommodations have been arranged, and all her belongings are neatly put away. Shall we head over now?"

Sun Dasheng glanced at the troublemaker, Yang Xintian.

Yang Xintian held up her small hand and made an 'OK' sign. It was anyone's guess how she managed it, but Xiang Zixuan quickly stopped crying. However, when she looked at Sun Dasheng again, her expression was a little strange.

This puzzled Sun Dasheng. What on earth had that little girl told her?

When they arrived at the apartment, they found a two-bedroom unit of over 80 square meters. For one person, it was quite spacious.

While Xiang Zixuan was busy arranging her things, Sun Dasheng dragged the little rascal Yang Xintian out onto the balcony. He didn't say a word, just watched her with a faint smile. He kept at it until she grew flustered and turned her head away. "Uncle Sun, why are you looking at me like that?"

She was clearly feeling a bit guilty.

"Hehe... what do you think?"

"Uh, I didn't do anything wrong! You're slandering me," Yang Xintian said, her cheeks puffed out indignantly.

"Did I say you did something wrong?" Sun Dasheng asked.

She had totally given herself away.

"Well... your gaze just now clearly implied it..." Yang Xintian began to argue petulantly.

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