Chapter 1015: Song Jinyan

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

He stood nearly 1.9 meters tall, his presence commanding attention with his sword-like eyebrows and piercing starry eyes. Despite his impressive stature, his serious expression masked his strikingly handsome features, revealing them only upon closer inspection.

What struck her first was his imposing demeanour, reminiscent of a towering mountain. Clad in a crisply pressed uniform that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he strode purposefully towards the main entrance. The security guard, recognizing him, immediately saluted and ushered him in with utmost respect.

“Eldest Young Master, please come in,” the guard greeted, though inwardly he felt uneasy. The second son of the Song family had become unpredictable since his injury, and visits from his nephew were rare, if not unheard of.

“No need to accompany me. I have something to discuss with Second Uncle,” Song Jinyan’s voice, deep and hoarse, carried a unique charm that left a lasting impression. For him, possessing such a captivating and melodious voice wasn’t necessarily a boon; it only added to his perplexity.

Being too distinctive often proved to be more of a curse than a blessing.

Once upstairs, Song Jinyan found Song Jiaming seated in a wheelchair by the study’s floor-to-ceiling window. Despite being younger than his appearance suggested, Song Jiaming bore the weight of age with his pallid complexion and sombre countenance.

“Second Uncle,” Song Jinyan greeted, though his uncle’s response was less than welcoming.

“Why are you here?” snapped Song Jiaming, bitterness lacing his tone. “You’ve been absent all these years, so why bother showing up now?”

Before his disability, he didn’t like his nephew, and after the disability, his dislike only deepened.

Who could like a junior who constantly belittled himself in every aspect?

Moreover, this kid had been secretly investigating him for the past few years. What was even more hateful was that he could not do anything, and the old master did not care.

Undeterred by his uncle’s hostility, Song Jinyan maintained his composure. “Second Uncle may be out of touch with the world, but I am not. I bring news.”

Song Jinyan didn’t sit down; he remained standing tall, his penetrating gaze fixed firmly on Song Jiaming, capturing every nuance of his emotional fluctuations.

“I don’t know. I’m just a cripple waiting to die.”

“Zhou Hengyang has returned,” Song Jinyan announced, watching his uncle’s reaction closely.

Zhou Hengyang’s return to the capital carries far more significance than Su Wen realizes.

The mention of Zhou Hengyang’s name visibly rattled Song Jiaming. “He’s now Su Xuewen’s son-in-law,” continued Song Jinyan, his tone calculated.

Though Song Jiaming was aware of this fact, the reminder still struck a nerve. “Get to the point,” he demanded, his patience wearing thin. “I have no time for idle chatter. If you have nothing to say, just leave. I, a cripple, have long lost any usefulness.”

With a sneer, Song Jinyan obliged, his gaze unwavering. His second uncle, because his grandmother was born in the countryside and suffered a lot since childhood, fell out of favour with the family. Later, when his legs became crippled, no one dared to provoke him.