After the 99th Confession, The Cold School Beauty’s Personality Collapsed - Chapter 72:

Chapter 72: Parents and Home:

During the short flight of just a few hours, Qin Luo had a deeply fulfilling experience. Since meeting Jia Ting, this was by far the longest conversation they had ever shared. In fact, their conversation on the plane equaled the sum of all their previous exchanges.

Especially after Jia Ting accepted the painting, their relationship seemed to improve considerably. They talked about everything—north and south, poetry and music, life goals, and future plans. Most of the topics were initiated by Jia Ting. As a cultured young woman with a love for literature and art, she had a vast knowledge base. Ordinary people might find it difficult to keep up with her, but fortunately, Qin Luo had his own depth of knowledge, thanks to the system rewards he had received, which boosted his literature and talent stats. Though he wasn’t as well-read as Jia Ting, he managed to keep up with her intellectual discussions.

Qin Luo noticed that every time he matched Jia Ting’s topics with thoughtful responses, her interest in him grew, and she laughed more frequently. He often caught glimpses of her sweet smile and her subtle charm, which made Qin Luo realize that she was, indeed, a dangerous woman—though not in an obvious way.

Ji Yan’s allure was bold and striking, while Jia Ting’s charm was more subtle, like a slow, steady rain that gradually soaked into one’s soul. The more time you spent with her, the more you felt drawn in.

Of course, Qin Luo was certain that he wasn’t falling for Jia Ting. He enjoyed her company because she was pleasant to be around, and, more practically, because she was now his source of rare resources. The rewards he gained from her far outstripped those he had received from Ji Yan.

As evening fell, their plane touched down at the Imperial Capital Airport. 

As they finished their final conversation, Jia Ting looked out at the tarmac and sighed softly. It was the first time she had ever had such a deep conversation with someone her age.However, Qin Luo didn’t feel quite the same. Perhaps because their conversation flowed so easily, Jia Ting saw him as a fellow literary soul. But Qin Luo knew he wasn’t. If he had to define himself, he’d rather be seen as an all-knowing, all-powerful man.

As their conversation wound down, Qin Luo felt a sense of relief. He realized Jia Ting had nearly exhausted her knowledge, and if she had raised one more topic, he would have had to surrender and admit he had nothing left to say.

“We’re here in the Imperial Capital,” Jia Ting said quietly.

“Yeah,” Qin Luo replied.

She glanced at him as if wanting to say something more but held back.

They disembarked together, walking behind Yao Yanyan. On the plane, the men couldn’t stop staring at Yao Yanyan, and now, as she walked away in her denim shorts, she turned heads with every step. Her movements, exaggerated by her slender waist, were almost comical in their attempt to attract attention.

Jia Ting frowned at the display but relaxed slightly when she noticed that Qin Luo paid no attention to Yao Yanyan. Eventually, Yao Yanyan, possibly bored with Qin Luo’s indifference, stopped her showy poses, gave him one last playful glance, and walked off ahead.

Both Qin Luo and Jia Ting were heading to the parking lot. They didn’t talk much on the way, but their strides matched perfectly, making them look like a couple. Their striking appearances and refined demeanors drew the attention of passersby.

A photographer, carrying a single-lens reflex camera, followed them for some time before finally gathering the courage to approach. “Excuse me,” he said, “I’m a photographer. You both have such great chemistry and appearance. May I take a picture of you?”

Jia Ting neither agreed nor refused; instead, she glanced at Qin Luo, her eyes flickering with curiosity.

Qin Luo responded casually, “Sure.”

They stood together, with the airport as a backdrop, posing like they were taking ID photos.

The photographer chuckled. “You two can get a little closer, relax a bit. You look too stiff.”

Qin Luo hesitated, not wanting to offend Jia Ting by getting too close, so he cast a questioning glance at her.

Jia Ting didn’t say anything, but she took a step closer to Qin Luo. In response, he stepped even nearer until they were standing side by side, close enough that Qin Luo could smell the faint scent of her shampoo.

“How about a more intimate pose?” the photographer suggested. “It’ll look better.”

But Qin Luo declined with a polite smile, “This is fine. Just take the picture.”

Jia Ting seemed ready to say the same, but after hearing Qin Luo, she remained silent, simply giving him a brief glance.

The photographer seemed a little disappointed but went ahead and took the picture. His camera printed the photo instantly, and he took another shot, producing a second photo.

He handed both photos to Qin Luo and Jia Ting, smiling warmly. “Thank you for your cooperation. I’ve taken thousands of pictures, but I rarely come across a pair with such great chemistry and presence like you two.”

Used to such compliments, they both brushed it off with light laughter, each taking one of the photos and shaking it in their hands.

As the images developed, a plane in the background appeared as if it were about to take off. Qin Luo and Jia Ting stood before the glass, their arms almost touching, with peaceful smiles on their faces. It wasn’t an overly sweet image, but it had a harmonious, artful quality, like a couple’s portrait.

Still absorbed in the photo, they realized they had reached the parking lot.

A sleek BMW sports car pulled up in front of them. It was blue and white, with beautiful lines and a futuristic feel. Qin Luo recognized it instantly—an i8, priced at nearly two million. Despite its impressive appearance, it was only powered by a three-cylinder engine. While it was fast, Qin Luo found it absurd that anyone would spend two million on a car with such a small engine. Still, many wealthy people bought it simply because it looked good.

“That’s my aunt,” Jia Ting said.

The BMW’s butterfly doors opened, and a stylishly dressed woman stepped out. She was wearing sunglasses, so Qin Luo couldn’t see her face clearly, but her well-defined chin and rosy lips suggested she was beautiful. Her graceful demeanor further added to her attractiveness.

“Tingting,” the woman called out affectionately as she walked over and embraced Jia Ting.

“Aunt,” Jia Ting responded warmly, hugging her back.

During the embrace, Qin Luo could feel the woman’s eyes on him, even behind her sunglasses.

“This is my friend, Qin Luo,” Jia Ting introduced. “We flew back together.” She then turned to Qin Luo and said, “This is my aunt.”

“Hello,” Qin Luo greeted her politely.

“Friend?” The woman’s voice carried a hint of surprise. She glanced at Jia Ting, then took off her sunglasses and smiled at Qin Luo, “Hello.”

With her sunglasses off, Qin Luo could see her features clearly. She was indeed beautiful, with delicate facial features and soft lines. She seemed older than them, but not by much, appearing like a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. 

Her smile exuded elegance and grace, but there was something in her eyes—an underlying sharpness that Qin Luo couldn’t ignore.

Out of habit, Qin Luo instinctively analyzed her.

[Test object: Ye Zhiqiu]

[Scanning…]

[Test complete]  

[Target: Ye Zhiqiu]  

[Personality: Strong and domineering]  

[Possible pursuit available]

Qin Luo raised an eyebrow. Recently, he found it almost too easy to get a read on women. Jia Ting’s aunt, Ye Zhiqiu, seemed to have the same demeanor as a domineering female CEO straight out of a novel. He wondered if she really was one.

The conversation between Jia Ting and Ye Zhiqiu didn’t drag on. They realized they couldn’t park there much longer. When Ye Zhiqiu was about to lead Jia Ting into the car, Jia Ting paused. “Wait a moment,” she said, turning back toward Qin Luo.

She held the gift bag she had bought earlier and waved with a smile, “I’m heading off now. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Qin Luo replied.

Soon after, the sleek sports car took off, gradually fading from Qin Luo’s sight.

Inside the car, Ye Zhiqiu broke the silence with a smirk. “That young man is quite handsome. Is he your boyfriend?”

Jia Ting rolled her eyes. “No, just a friend.”

“Just friends? You came back on the same flight together.”

“It was a coincidence. We didn’t plan it.”

Ye Zhiqiu chuckled softly, unconvinced. “Still, he seems like a good catch. You two seemed to get along pretty well. Are you sure he’s not your boyfriend?”

Jia Ting’s thoughts wandered back to their time on the plane, recalling the peaceful conversation and the painting Qin Luo had made for her. Her face grew a little warm, but she quickly shook her head. “No, he’s not.”

Ye Zhiqiu smiled knowingly. “Good. Otherwise, Ziming might be heartbroken if he finds out.”

Jia Ting sighed. “I’ve told you before, I see Ye Ziming as nothing more than an older brother. I don’t have any romantic feelings for him.”

“Feelings can grow over time.”

“If they could, they would have by now. We’ve known each other since childhood, and I know for sure he’s not my type.”

“But you also know that your families are keen on the idea. Your grandfather’s greatest wish is to see you marry Ziming.”

Jia Ting hesitated, then sighed again. “How is my grandfather doing, anyway?”

Ye Zhiqiu softened her voice. “He seems okay, but you’ll see for yourself when you visit him.”

Jia Ting fell silent, resting her head back in the seat. Yet, the unfinished painting Qin Luo had given her lingered in her mind.

…

Meanwhile, in a black Volkswagen, Qin Luo’s father, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, commented nonchalantly, “So, that girl back there—your girlfriend? Not bad. She’s got a bit of your mother’s beauty. She’d make a good daughter-in-law.”

Qin Luo sighed, for what felt like the third time. “She’s not my girlfriend. We just happened to be on the same plane.”

His father took a long drag from his cigarette and clicked his tongue. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then make her one. She seems decent enough. If not her, then maybe the older one.”

Qin Luo was speechless. “Why are you acting like I’m destined to be a bachelor? Are you that desperate?”

His father shot him a disapproving look. “You don’t understand. Quality women are hard to come by. At your age, getting a good one is pure luck.”

Qin Luo couldn’t help but sigh again. He had long accepted his father’s eccentric personality, but every time the man spoke like this, it still left him feeling a little unsettled.

Hoping to steer the conversation away from relationships, he changed the topic. “Notice anything different about me? Don’t I look more handsome these days?”

His father gave him a quick glance and snorted. “You’re not bad-looking, but it’s only because you’ve got my genes. Don’t get cocky—I was ten times more handsome than you when I was your age.”

Qin Luo held back a retort, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with his father over something so trivial.

After a brief pause, his father asked, “How’s your sister doing? She’s alright, isn’t she?”

Qin Luo’s reply was casual. “She’s fine.”

But his voice carried a slight hesitation. He still remembered the bet between Jiang Zhitao and Jiang Tianyao, and that made him speak with a touch of awkwardness. Still, he hoped his father wouldn’t pick up on it.

To Qin Luo’s relief, his father didn’t seem interested in probing further. His casual tone made it seem like it was just a passing question. Qin Luo couldn’t help but feel puzzled by his father’s indifference. 

After Jiang Zhitao had left, their mother had been an emotional wreck, constantly crying as if her daughter had been taken to jail instead of leaving with their biological parents. It wasn’t until they saw Jiang Zhitao on TV, thriving as a rising star, that she began to calm down.

But their father? His reaction had always been much more subdued. Though he had initially shown signs of sadness, it seemed more out of concern for his wife’s well-being than any personal grief. Once Qin Luo’s mother began to recover, his father returned to his usual carefree self.

In contrast to Qin Luo’s mother, whose emotions seemed genuine, Qin Luo’s father appeared indifferent about the whole matter. In the past, Qin Luo hadn’t thought much about it, but now, with a more mature perspective, he found himself viewing things differently. It seemed like something was hidden beneath the surface.

Unable to shake the feeling, Qin Luo asked, “You don’t seem to care much about her, do you?”

“What’s there to be concerned about?” his father replied, taking a puff of his cigarette. “She left with her biological parents. It’s not like she went to jail or anything.”

“That’s true, but you were her adoptive father for fifteen years,” Qin Luo pointed out.

His father waved it off. “As parents, we just want what’s best for our children. She’s a big star now, isn’t she? She’s doing well. What’s there to worry about?”

Looking at his father’s casual demeanor, Qin Luo wondered if he had been overthinking things.

Their home was located in a small county in Beihe Province, just two hours by car from the capital, Didu. After two hours of driving, they exited the highway and passed a large stone sign welcoming them to the county.

Qin Luo didn’t exactly miss the place, but the familiar surroundings gave him a comforting sense of “coming home.” He opened the car window, letting the cool evening breeze wash over him as he watched the familiar buildings and scenery pass by.

By 8 o’clock, they reached their destination—an old residential area. The car stopped in front of one of the aging buildings.

Qin Luo carried the gift bags and followed his father up the stairs. Yes, stairs—there was no elevator in this six-story building. Qin Luo’s family lived on the fifth floor.

In the past, climbing up to the fifth floor left him a little winded, but not anymore. He felt no pressure at all, even with the presents in his hands. He could have easily carried his father too without breaking a sweat.

On the fourth floor, his father turned and said, “Give me the bags, let me carry them. You must be tired.”

Qin Luo rolled his eyes. “We’re almost at the door, Dad. Isn’t it a little late for that? I’m not tired from carrying these, and I certainly wouldn’t be tired carrying you too.”

His father shot him a look. “Look at you. Weren’t you the one who used to complain every time we went upstairs?”

But as he looked closer, he noticed something. His son wasn’t out of breath at all. Curious, he reached out and squeezed Qin Luo’s arm. Then, he lifted his son’s shirt and was surprised to see defined abs. “Wow, look at that. You’ve got some muscle.”

Qin Luo shrugged. “Don’t be jealous.”

His father scoffed. “Jealous? I used to have an eight-pack myself, kid. No need to envy you.”

Qin Luo just rolled his eyes again and moved ahead to the fifth floor. As he reached for his keys to open the door, it swung open from the inside.

A woman wearing an apron stood at the doorway. Seeing Qin Luo, her face lit up with a smile. “You’re back!”

“Hey, Mom,” Qin Luo said as he stepped inside, raising the gift bags in his hand. “I brought you something. Take a look and see if it’s any good.”

His mother gave a half-hearted scolding. “You don’t need to bring gifts. You’re just coming back for the holidays, not a trip.”

But despite her words, her smile grew wider as she peeked inside the bags. She pulled out a scarf and a pair of sleeves. “Is this from Louis Vuitton? Isn’t this expensive?”

“Where did you get the money for all this?” his father asked, eyeing the luxury packaging.

Earlier, when Qin Luo had tossed the gifts into the car at the airport, his father hadn’t paid much attention. But now, seeing the high-end brands, he was a little taken aback.

Qin Luo brushed it off casually. “Don’t worry. It didn’t cost that much. Do you like them?”

His mother smiled but looked a little uneasy. “I love them, but…”

At this moment, his father pulled out an expensive kitchen knife from the bag. He inspected it, then glanced at Qin Luo with narrowed eyes. “Did your sister give you the money for these?”

His tone was different from before—sharper, more serious. Qin Luo brushed it off, thinking it was his imagination. “No, I’ve been trading stocks lately. Made a bit of money.”

“Stocks?” His mother paused, surprised, but she quickly accepted the explanation. “I’ve heard a lot of people have made money that way recently. Just be careful, okay? Don’t invest too much. It’s fine to lose a bit, but don’t go into debt.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I know what I’m doing,” Qin Luo assured her before turning to gauge his father’s reaction.

He thought his father might question him further, but to his surprise, his father just nodded indifferently. It seemed he didn’t care much about Qin Luo’s stock trading.

His father then turned his attention back to the kitchen knife, running his fingers over the fine patterns on the blade. “Good knife,” he muttered.

After a bit of small talk, his mother suddenly remembered something. “Oh no, the soup’s still on the stove!” she exclaimed, rushing back to the kitchen. “Go sit in the living room, dinner will be ready soon.”

His father followed her into the kitchen to help.

Qin Luo wandered into the living room and sat down, looking around at the place where he had grown up. Everything was the same as he remembered—the TV, which only got used during the Spring Festival, the air conditioner that was only turned on in the summer, the windows that always stuck, and the sad-looking potted plant by the sill.

It was as if time had stood still. The only thing missing was the girl who used to sing and dance around the house.

In her place was a plain-looking girl with an old-fashioned hairstyle, braces, round glasses, and freckles on her face.

Wait… a plain-looking girl?

Qin Luo froze, staring at the unfamiliar girl who had suddenly appeared. He was completely confused.