The dating reality show host just wanted to give up, but the rich girl fell for him.

In the morning in Beijing, sunlight streamed obliquely through the huge French windows into the study of the Jiang family mansion.

A faint scent of agarwood wafted in the air.

The study was spacious and bright, decorated in a simple and elegant style. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves made of huanghuali wood, densely filled with all kinds of ancient books and rare editions.

In the center of the study, there was a huge rosewood painting table.

Song Wan was standing in front of the painting table. She was wearing a white casual house dress, and her long hair was casually tied up with a simple wooden hairpin.

She lowered her head slightly, her expression focused and serene.

His right hand held a jade-tube writing brush, its tip dipped in rich Huizhou ink. His wrist hovered in the air, the brush tip gliding across the spread-out Chengxintang paper.

Beginning stroke, pause, return stroke.

All in one go.

She was imitating Emperor Huizong of Song's "Slender Gold" calligraphy style. Her handwriting was slender and upright, exuding an undeniable sharpness and pride, just like the impression she gave off.

The study was quiet, with only the soft scratching of the pen tip on the paper.

Footsteps, deliberately kept low, echoed from the thick carpet in the hallway outside.

The footsteps paused for a moment outside the door.

Immediately afterwards, the heavy, carved wooden door to the study was gently pushed open a crack.

Butler Wang tiptoed in, turning sideways. He closed the door behind him, moving very carefully, as if afraid of making any unnecessary noise that might disturb the person at the desk.

However, he did not completely close the door, but deliberately left a tiny, almost imperceptible gap.

Because when he came in, he clearly caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a furtive figure crouching in the shadows around the corner of the corridor.

In this house, besides the powerful patriarch who dominates the business world, there is no one else who would dare to eavesdrop outside the study like this.

Steward Wang took a deep breath, walked to a spot three steps away from the painting table, and respectfully stopped.

He didn't speak immediately, but stood quietly with his hands at his sides, waiting patiently.

After Song Wan finished writing a whole character, she paused slightly and lifted the brush a fraction of an inch.

Butler Wang then bowed slightly, lowered his voice, and reported, "Madam, the fish has taken the bait."

Song Wan's gaze remained fixed on the Xuan paper, without even lifting her eyelids.

With a slight turn of her wrist, the pen fell again, leaving a sharp stroke on the paper.

"He signed it?" Song Wan's voice was calm, revealing no emotional fluctuation.

"Yes." Butler Wang nodded and quickly added details, "Mr. Lin Mo has already signed the house rental contract. Moreover, he has booked a flight to Beijing for tomorrow afternoon."

Song Wan paused slightly at the tip of her pen.

"Was that agent reliable? Did you manage to avoid giving him away?"

Butler Wang quickly shook his head: "Don't worry, we found the most experienced person. The excuse was also as you instructed, saying that the landlord lives abroad year-round and the place is just sitting empty."

"I'm just looking for someone who's clean and appreciates life to help take care of that old house, which is why I'm offering such a low rent."

Butler Wang paused, a hint of suppressed amusement appearing on his face.

"After reading the contract, Mr. Lin Mo not only had no doubts, but also confirmed it with the agent three times, for fear that the landlord would change his mind."

"He probably thought he had gotten a huge bargain in the capital."

Upon hearing this, Song Wan finally put down her pen.

She looked at the character "静" (quiet) that had just been written on the paper, and a tiny, almost imperceptible smile appeared on her lips.

It was the calm smile of an angler watching his prey obediently swim into the net.

"Understood. Go and tidy up that courtyard in Nanluoguxiang a bit more, and air it out," Song Wan instructed.

"Yes, madam, I'll take care of it right away..."

Before Butler Wang could finish speaking...

"Bang!"

A loud bang suddenly exploded in the study.

The heavy wooden door, which had been slightly ajar, was violently pushed open from the outside. The force of the impact caused the door to slam heavily against the cushioning pad on the wall with a dull thud.

Jiang Jianguo, who had been eavesdropping outside the door, jumped in like an old cat whose tail had been stepped on.

He was wearing a pair of fluffy slippers, and because of the sudden movement, one of the slippers almost flew off.

Jiang Jianguo didn't care about his image at all and rushed to the painting table in three steps.

The imposing aura of a billionaire that he usually exuded in the group's conference room was completely gone at this moment.

His eyes widened, and the stubble on his chin trembled slightly along with the muscles in his cheeks as he pointed a shaky finger at Song Wan.

"Wife! Are you crazy?!"

Jiang Jianguo's voice trembled with excitement, echoing throughout the spacious study.

Butler Wang trembled with fright, quickly took two steps back, buried his head deeply, and wished he could find a crack in the ground to disappear into and become invisible.

Song Wan ignored her husband's roar.

She didn't even frown; she simply turned slightly to the side, gently dabbed the brush against the edge of the inkstone, and straightened the brushstrokes.

When Jiang Jianguo saw that his wife was ignoring him, his anger flared up even more.

He put his hands on his hips and began pacing back and forth in the study. His heavy leather slippers made dull thuds on the carpet.

"That's a courtyard house in Nanluoguxiang! A two-courtyard siheyuan!"

As Jiang Jianguo spun around, he tearfully and bitterly denounced the situation.

"How much effort did it take me to acquire that courtyard house? Every brick and tile, every old jujube tree in the yard—they're all treasures!"

"You actually rented it to that poor kid surnamed Lin?!"

He abruptly stopped, moved to the center of the study, and slapped his thigh in anguish.

"And what's more! You're only asking for half the market price?!"

"You're not renting him a house, you're practically doing charity! You might as well just transfer the property title to him!"

Song Wan laid out a new sheet of Chengxintang paper and pressed the edges down with a paperweight.

She remained silent, but instead took a slightly thinner mixed-hair brush from the pen holder beside her.

Jiang Jianguo's outburst continues. He's not only heartbroken over the house, but also over his beloved daughter.

His brain started racing, frantically conjuring up all sorts of terrifying images.

"Wife, what are you thinking?" Jiang Jianguo walked to the other side of the painting table, placed his hands on the table, and tried to see the expression on his wife's face.

"When that kid was filming a show on the island, he completely captivated our Ruoyun."

"I saw it all clearly in the live stream! Ruoyun, a young lady from a respectable family, was actually chasing after him!"

Jiang Jianguo became increasingly angry as he spoke, and felt a tightness in his chest.

"When he cooks a lousy meal, Ruoyun eagerly serves him the dishes. When he carves a piece of wood, Ruoyun stands beside him handing him sandpaper!"

"That's why we can separate after filming on an island."

He suddenly sat up straight, waving his hands impatiently in the air.

"Now look what's happened! You actually threw out the bait and lured him to the capital!"

"How far is Nanluoguxiang from our home? It's only a half-hour drive!"

Jiang Jianguo's breathing became heavy, and his eyes were filled with defensiveness and anxiety.

"He came to the capital and moved into that courtyard. He'll definitely find all sorts of excuses to pester our Ruoyun every day!"

"That silly girl Ruoyun already had feelings for that boy. Now that he's right under our noses, won't she be running to that courtyard house every day?"

His blood pressure would spike whenever he thought about his beautiful daughter running off every day to do laundry and cook for some brat.

"Aren't you just inviting a wolf into the house?!"

"You've practically pulled out the cabbage we've painstakingly raised for over twenty years and handed it to that pig's mouth!"

Jiang Jianguo felt increasingly that the situation was serious and had reached a critical juncture of life and death.

He felt he could no longer sit idly by and wait for his fate; he had to take immediate action.

This kid is arriving in Beijing tomorrow; there's still time to set up defenses.

Jiang Jianguo suddenly turned his head, his sharp gaze locking onto Butler Wang, who was huddled in the corner, trembling with fear.

He regained some of the decisive and ruthless aura of a business tycoon and straightened his back.

"Old Wang! Stop pretending to be dead!" Jiang Jianguo shouted the order.

Butler Wang shuddered and quickly stood up straight: "Master... Master, what are your orders?"

"Immediately! Right now! Go and gather the security personnel for me!" Jiang Jianguo said through gritted teeth.

"Move ten...no! Move twenty of your most elite bodyguards!"

"Tomorrow afternoon, you will personally lead a team of five armored vehicles to the airport!"

Jiang Jianguo waved his hand forcefully in mid-air, as if he were commanding a vast army.

"Block all VIP exits and regular exits! Not even a fly can get in!"

"The moment that kid surnamed Lin lands and exits the gate, you all rush up and surround him!"

He had even thought of the follow-up countermeasures.

"Buy him a first-class ticket back to Jiangnan on the spot! Just shove him onto the return plane!"

"If he dares to resist, just grab him!" Jiang Jianguo gesticulated wildly as he outlined his "airport interception plan," his face filled with the tragic determination to defend his daughter to the death.

Throughout this process, Song Wan's rhythm was never interrupted.

She calmly finished writing the last stroke.

Gently place the calligraphy brush in your hand on the jade brush holder.

Song Wan straightened up, slowly picked up a warm, damp towel from the side, and wiped her fingers, which were stained with ink, one by one.

After wiping her hands, she picked up the cup of pre-Qingming Longjing tea that had been steeping for a while on the edge of the painting table.

The fine celadon teacup looked exceptionally elegant in her fair hands.

She lowered her eyes, lifted the lid of the cup, and gently skimmed the tender green tea leaves floating on the surface of the water.

A crisp "ding" sounded.

The lid struck the rim of the cup, producing a clear, melodious sound.

In this noisy study, the sound was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear.

Then, Song Wan tilted her head slightly and took a sip of tea.

After swallowing the tea, she slowly raised her eyelids.

His gaze swept past the rising steam and aroma of tea, carrying an extreme calmness as if he had seen it all before, and he lightly glanced at Jiang Jianguo.

There was no anger, no blame, not even a ripple of emotion in his eyes.

It was a kind of stern, authoritative scrutiny that commanded respect without any anger.

With just that one casual glance, Jiang Jianguo, the richest man who had been exuding domineering power and waving his arms to arrange his bodyguards, instantly looked like a duck with its neck being choked.

He swallowed the second half of the sentence, "If he dares to resist, break his legs," almost choking himself.

The hands that were raised in mid-air were quickly lowered.

He stood obediently in place, his hands clasped together, rubbing them nervously.