Chapter 65 Meeting the Parents (Part One)

Chapter 65: Meeting the Parents (Part One)

When Zhang Le saw Yang Mingwei again, he felt somewhat awkward. Their last meeting had ended badly, even coming to blows. This time, neither of them brought it up, but the atmosphere was rather chilly.

“Brother, who are you scowling at? We haven’t seen each other in so long, and that’s the face you greet us with?” Yang Xin’er pursed her lips, voicing her dissatisfaction.

“Who am I scowling at? I’m just concentrating on driving, that’s all!” Yang Mingwei doted on his sister and immediately smiled to explain when he heard her complaint.

“Hmph! What, are you unhappy to pick us up?” Yang Xin’er pressed.

“How could that be? Why would you think that? I wanted to see you as soon as possible, too. It’s been so long—of course your brother missed you,” Yang Mingwei replied with a smile.

“Just me?” Yang Xin’er continued, “What about Zhang Le?”

“Him? Forget it! I didn’t even dare bring my security officer this time,” Yang Mingwei shook his head as he spoke, clearly still holding a grudge over the previous incident.

Zhang Le smiled awkwardly, unsure how to respond. Thinking back, he had indeed been a bit reckless last time.

“And you still have the nerve to mention it!” Yang Xin’er huffed, “What were you thinking back then? You can’t stand your sister having a boyfriend? Afraid I’d get ahead of you? Are you jealous of your own sister now?”

“Fine, think what you want! Do as you please! My little sister’s all grown up—how can I control you anymore? But if you two want to be together, you’ll have to get past Mom first. She doesn’t want you dating someone from the entertainment world,” Yang Mingwei said.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Le and Yang Xin’er exchanged a glance. The same question flickered in both their hearts: if asked to change careers, how would they face it?

Zhang Le, with memories of two lifetimes, was well-rounded in both literature and martial arts, but he was not a master of everything. His greatest advantage, without a doubt, lay in film. He had graduated from directing, been a stunt double in his previous life, and most of his memories were tied to cinema. That was his greatest asset.

If he gave up that advantage, even with the experience of two lives, Zhang Le had little confidence in achieving much. To change careers, he would inevitably have to rely on Yang Xin’er’s connections, but that was not what he wanted. Perhaps it was masculine pride, or perhaps the unique arrogance of a martial artist.

He refused to live forever in Yang Xin’er’s shadow. In any relationship, if one person lived in constant inferiority, their feelings would eventually be affected.

Zhang Le did not want that to happen between himself and Yang Xin’er. Moreover, he was a man of strong self-respect. If he were always in a position of weakness and self-doubt, he would no longer be himself.

Of course, the most important reason was that Zhang Le’s love for film was already a part of his life. Perhaps that part was not as important as Yang Xin’er, but losing it would be unbearably painful for him.

Yang Xin’er understood this as well. Hearing Yang Mingwei’s words, she glanced at Zhang Le anxiously, but her gaze quickly grew determined. She took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

That gesture spoke volumes.

With Yang Xin’er by his side, no other difficulty mattered—they would overcome them together.

Yang Mingwei’s words were meant as a reminder. Seeing their actions in the rearview mirror, he shook his head and said no more.

Old Master Yang had retired for some time, but still lived with Yang Xin’er’s parents. Today, he wore a red traditional suit, his face beaming, exuding festivity.

“The Chief seems in good spirits today—because Xin’er’s coming home?” Wei Minghua said with a smile to the old master.

Wei Minghua had inherited the old master’s martial arts, but as he had once been the old man’s security officer, he still called him Chief.

“Of course I’m glad Xin’er’s coming back, but what makes me happiest is having the whole family together,” the old man replied with a smile.

“Dad, we’ve had plenty of family gatherings, but today Xin’er is bringing her boyfriend home. You need to keep a close eye on things—don’t let your fondness for Xin’er make you too indulgent,” Li Fang chimed in.

“Plenty of gatherings? When was the last time—two years ago, or three?” the old man sighed. Still, there was no real complaint in his tone. Every elder hopes for their children and grandchildren to be around, but he understood that, given his status, it was a luxury.

“Dad—”

Yang Xin’er’s father, Yang Guomin, seemed to want to speak, but for a moment he didn’t know how to begin. His work kept him busy and rarely at home. His two brothers were also occupied with their own affairs and seldom visited; even when they did, it was usually a brief stay.

“State affairs come first!” the old man waved him off. All three of his sons held high positions in the military—their work could truly be called state business.

“Why hasn’t Wei come back with them yet? I’ll go take a look,” Li Fang said, heading toward the door.

But just as she stood up, Yang Xin’er and the others walked in.

Zhang Le felt tense inside, but suppressed it, acting with poise and ease, showing no sign of being at a loss.

He knew that for a military family, the more nervous you seemed, the more they would think you lacked courage—and disapprove of you. In their eyes, where was your bravery if you acted that way?

To soldiers, courage is the most indispensable quality, especially in the eyes of Old Master Yang, who had survived battlefields littered with corpses. The more nervous you were, the less he would respect you.

In Zhang Le’s view, though Yang Xin’er’s parents’ opinions mattered, the true decision lay in Old Master Yang’s hands.

“Good afternoon, Grandfather!”

“Good afternoon, Uncle!”

“Good afternoon, Aunt!”

“Master Wei, it’s an honor to finally meet you!”

To Old Master Yang and Yang Xin’er’s parents, Zhang Le bowed politely. To Wei Minghua, he simply cupped his hands. Though Wei Minghua could be considered a senior to Yang Xin’er, at this moment, it would have been inappropriate to address him as uncle with a bow.

After all, Wei Minghua was not here in the capacity of her elder.

His manner was casual yet respectful. Though Zhang Le was not extraordinarily handsome, his presence and bearing were impressive. Besides, Yang Xin’er’s grandfather and parents would never judge a person by looks alone.

Zhang Le was skilled in martial arts, having reached a high level, and his bearing was imbued with an air of masculine strength—a trait that immediately resonated with Old Master Yang and Yang Guomin, both with military backgrounds.

Moreover, Zhang Le was a renowned academic, fluent in five languages, and a trained director with a solid grasp of the arts. His sunny demeanor was laced with the air of an artist.

These two qualities, though seemingly at odds, blended harmoniously within him, making his presence all the more distinctive.

Li Fang, though a high-ranking official herself, worked in the cultural sector. She found Zhang Le’s temperament quite appealing. Seeing his easy smile, his composure, and lack of nervousness, much of her previous dissatisfaction with him faded away.

“Please, have a seat,” Old Master Yang said.

“Thank you,” Zhang Le replied, smiling as he nodded. Yang Xin’er, unable to wait, pulled Zhang Le to sit directly across from the old man, then hurried to his side, taking his arm and beaming up at him.

“Grandpa, did you miss me?” Yang Xin’er grinned. “Because I missed you very much!”