Chapter 847: 330 regrets not having made the right move earlier, one wrong move in chess. Chapter 847: 330 regrets not having made the right move earlier, one wrong move in chess. “Look at this?” Jiang Fulai glanced at the jade thumb ring that he wore.

The ring had an antiquated appearance, fashioned from vibrantly colored jade featuring a dragon pattern at the top.

It seemed gaudy, yet it looked unusually elegant in his hands.

Bai Lian snapped out of her reverie and noticed for the first time today that he was unexpectedly wearing a thumb ring, “No.”

Jiang Fulai, as if he hadn’t heard her, took off the thumb ring from his other hand and placed it into Bai Lian’s palm, “Take a closer look.”

The ring, a blend of green and purple, felt slightly cool.

Bai Lian played with it in her hand for a while.

Standing by the car, opening doors for the two of them, Ming Dongheng watched as Bai Lian fiddled with the ring in her hands, several times he thought it would fall to the ground.

His temples visibly twitched.

**
103.

Ji Heng’s embroidery stand was set up in the yard, the depiction of a beautiful woman completely stitched, the few strokes Jiang Fulai had left previously also remained on it, not looking out of place.

The Dean went straight to Shanhai Apartment after work.

At this moment, with his hands clasped behind his back, he bent over to examine the design Ji Heng drew for him.

A mandarin collared long robe with a 21-string zither subtly incorporated into the design; the mere sight of this design exuded an ancient majesty.

Ji Heng set down his drawing pencil and looked up at the rain outside.

The rain slanted down, hitting the glass in the courtyard of No. 103, leaving streaks of mottled water stains.

“This rain seems to be getting heavier,” Ji Heng narrowed his eyes, picked up the tobacco pipe beside him, and methodically stuffed it with tobacco.

Next to him, Jiang He sat on the steps, hugging his white schoolbag, tilting his little head to read a comic book.

Old Hu placed a stack of nuts next to him, having peeled a small pile of walnuts and almonds for him to nibble on slowly.

The entrance of Shanhai Apartment.

Mu Yining drove down the road.

At the entrance, she saw a boy in the Jiangjing High School uniform, with a black schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his tall figure, black hair streaked with silver, handsome features that made passersby turn heads, including university girls sneakily taking photos with their phones.

Across from him stood a bald man in his thirties.

In the chilly weather, the man wore only a black short-sleeved shirt revealing tattooed arms, holding a lit cigarette, hardly looking like a decent person.

He was handing over two exquisitely crafted square iron boxes to Zhang Shize.

Bai Lian and her group, all exceptional students, Zhang Shize Mu Yining had also heard Ji Heng mention a few times, was doing well and planning to apply to the University of Political Science and Law.

Mu Yining quickly stopped the car at the entrance. She honked the horn, signaling Zhang Shize to get in.

Zhang Shize, who always respected Bai Lian’s relatives, scratched his head and got into the car despite not knowing them well.

Mu Yining waited for Zhang Shize to get in before accelerating into the residential complex.

As they were leaving, she and Dong Xiaobai warily glanced at Li Sheng.

Finally understanding the expression on Mu Yining’s face, Li Sheng: “…”

Sometimes he really felt like calling the police.

**
“You can just call him Uncle Dong,” outside the door of No. 103, Mu Yining, holding a gift bag, introduced Dong Xiaobai to Zhang Shize.

And she pressed the doorbell.

Zhang Shize grinned and called out, “Uncle Dong.”

It was still quite early, and the hall was mostly empty. Old Hu answered the door.

Mu Yining had never met Old Hu and paused in surprise.

But Zhang Shize greeted him familiarly, “Uncle Hu.”

Old Hu smiled and nodded at Zhang Shize, “Are you about to take your college entrance exams?”

“Next month it will be over,” Zhang Shize said as he walked into the yard, looking at Ji Heng and the Dean there.

As he passed Jiang He, he bent down and scooped all the peeled nuts from his plate into his hand and gobbled them up in one go.

Jiang He’s little hand came back empty.

“Grandpa, Grandpa Dean,” Zhang Shize greeted the two elderly men while chewing on the walnuts, “This is the new tobacco of this year. Grandpa told me you like it too, Dean, so I had someone bring an extra box.”

As he spoke, Zhang Shize displayed the two three-foot-tall square iron boxes for them to see.

Ji Heng and the Dean momentarily set aside their embroidery.

The two opened the tobacco boxes to examine the contents.

The Dean, no longer pestering Ji Heng to draw another zither for him, got the urge to roll one and try it.

In the hall, Mu Yining and Dong Xiaobai set down their things.

As Shen Qing brewed tea for the two, Dong Xiaobai stood up to thank Shen Qing.

In the courtyard, as the Dean turned to the side, Dong Xiaobai just caught sight of his face, paused for a moment, then showed recognition, “Is this… Dean Jian?”

He was from the Dong Family, his brother worked at the Cultural Bureau, naturally recognizing Jian Zhongyou.

Famously difficult to approach.

Perhaps only the president of the Calligraphy Association knew him well.

The Dong Family would rather establish connections with the Liang Family than think of courting Dean Jian.

“Dean Jian, Alian’s old friend,” Shen Qing put the teapot back, “recently asked Alian’s grandfather to make him a performance costume.”

**
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