Second Madam Gong merely nodded, elegant and composed, and lifted her teacup again as if she hadn't just dropped a bomb into the center of the dining table. Her posture didn't waver, her expression didn't flicker—she simply resumed eating, calm and unbothered. The silence that followed, however, was anything but calm.
Gong Feng, who had been quietly focused on his meal, paused for only a heartbeat. He turned his head toward Lin Che, not long enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for her to catch the brief, unreadable look in his eyes. There was nothing obvious in his expression, no clear emotion written on his face, yet something about the angle of his gaze… it brushed against her like a cold draft. A quiet, unspoken sympathy. A kind of understanding she hadn't asked for.
Lin Che lowered her eyes immediately, pretending to be absorbed in her food, but a faint tightness had already settled in her chest. She didn't want to think about the meaning behind that look. She didn't want to think about the name that had just been spoken at the table.
Across from her, Nan Lu—whose ability to detect gossip was nearly supernatural—was already studying every shift, every blink, every breath. She leaned slightly forward, gaze flicking from Lin Che to Gong Rui and back again, as if collecting clues. She caught him at a vulnerable moment: his chopsticks frozen midway, his jaw stiff, and a thin sheen of guilt flickering in his eyes before he tore his gaze away, suddenly fascinated by a grain of rice on his plate.
A quiet, suspicious "Hmm…" escaped her before she could help herself.
Lin Che felt the stare and turned, confusion tightening her brow.
"What?" she whispered.
Nan Lu didn't answer. Her eyes narrowed, just for a second, before she shook her head. "Nothing," she murmured—but the look on her face said she didn't believe her own words.
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
No one said another word. Not Second Madam Gong, who ate as if the room weren't stiff with unspoken questions. Not Gong Rui, who kept his head lowered. Not Lin Che, who felt her throat tighten. Not even Old Master Gong, who merely observed all of them with an unreadable expression.
When Gong Feng set down his chopsticks, the quiet shattered. He rose from his seat with calm finality, straightened his jacket, and without offering even a parting glance, strode out of the dining room. The air he left behind seemed to deflate.
The moment he was gone, both Second Madam Gong and her son released almost identical sighs of relief. It was subtle, but it was there—the tension melting from their shoulders, the stiffness leaving their posture. It was as if they had been holding their breath the entire time he was present.
Lin Che watched them without meaning to, a faint, indescribable discomfort tugging at her. She didn't say anything. She didn't trust her voice not to tremble.
Nan Lu watched them too. Her eyes sharpened, her gossip-loving instincts locking onto the odd shift in atmosphere. Something really was off. Something had happened the moment the Ming family was mentioned, and whatever it was, it had both mother and son looking like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't.
Before she could comment on it, Second Madam Gong was already rising from her seat again. "We have a great deal to prepare for today," she said calmly, wiping her fingers on a napkin. "And many errands to run before the guests arrive tonight. Rui, let's go. You'll come with me."
The words were polite, but the meaning underneath was unmistakable: Leave. Now.
Gong Rui immediately stood, relief written all over him. He didn't look at Lin Che again—not properly. Only a brief glance, barely a second long, before he murmured a stiff "I'll see you later," and followed his mother out.
As soon as their footsteps faded, the dining room felt bigger, emptier, strangely colder.
Old Master Zhang let out a long breath, almost imperceptibly shaking his head—whether in disappointment, resignation, or amusement, Lin Che couldn't tell. He exchanged a look with Auntie Li, who stepped forward at once.
"If Miss Lin or Miss Nan would like to see the garden," Auntie Li said gently, "I can have someone take you around."
Lin Che opened her mouth to answer, thinking a walk outside might clear her mind, but before she got a word out, Nan Lu seized her arm.
"That won't be necessary," Nan Lu said smoothly, wearing a polite smile that did nothing to soften the sharp glint in her eyes. "We'll head upstairs for now."
Without waiting for a reply, she practically dragged Lin Che out of the dining room. Only when they reached the quiet of the guest room did she shut the door firmly behind them and spin around.
Her expression was exactly what Lin Che expected—nose wrinkled, eyes wide, the look she always had when she smelled drama brewing.
"Something is definitely fishy," she declared.
She was someone who naturally liked to gossip and now that the reaction at the dining table was very strange she could not help but think that something was very wrong or something was going to happen tonight and it was going to be very big!
She already knew Madam Gong did not like Lin Che. There was no reason to specifically mention the Ming Family separately yet she had done so.
This family must be very special, Nan Lu thought.
Lin Che blinked, startled by her intensity. "Nothing is fishy," she said, shaking her head. "You're imagining things."
She knew how much Nan Lu loved gossiping and reading between non existent lines.
The Gong family was very powerful and being that it was their own blood being welcomed back, there was nothing wrong with inviting a family or two.
Nan Lu folded her arms, unconvinced. "No. I am not imagining anything. I know what I saw, and I know what I felt. And I'm telling you—there's absolutely something going on."