Chapter Fifty-Three: Are You Worthy?

When her menu was snatched away, Qiu Shuixia was momentarily stunned, then turned to look at Zhang Ping. Zhang Ping busied himself ushering his family to their seats, only afterwards noticing Qiu Shuixia’s confusion. He waved dismissively, saying, “Your Jiang family has tasted plenty of delicacies, but probably doesn’t know how to order. Let me handle it.”

Zhang Ping flipped through the menu a few times and summoned a waiter. “Steamed river crab, abalone sauce fish maw, top-grade sirloin steak... and three bottles of red wine from the Opus One winery.” He named over a dozen dishes, leaving Qiu Shuixia wide-eyed in astonishment. Never mind whether they could finish all this food—the dishes he named were the most expensive on the menu, each costing tens of thousands, especially the wine, which was priced at hundreds of thousands per bottle. Zhang Ping, as if money meant nothing, ordered three bottles without a second thought.

After finishing his extravagant order, Zhang Ping handed the menu back to Qiu Shuixia. “If there’s anything you’d like, sister-in-law, feel free to add it.” Then he turned to Qin Mu, tapping his finger on the table in the manner of a senior advising a junior, speaking bluntly. “Young man, when you take a girl out for dinner the first time, be generous. Leave a good impression.”

The implication was clear. No wonder he was so lavish—he was planning for Qin Mu to pick up the bill for the whole feast.

Qin Mu merely smiled faintly, neither nodding nor responding. Zhang Ping assumed this meant agreement, so he crossed his legs, sitting back confidently to await the food.

“Let me introduce my precious daughter, Zhang Lin,” Zhang’s mother said. Zhang Lin, seated beside her, finally put down her phone, looked up, and extended her hand to Qin Mu. “Hello.”

Qin Mu reciprocated politely, shaking her hand. “Hello.”

Their hands met briefly, Zhang Lin withdrawing as if afraid Qin Mu would linger even a second longer.

After the handshake, Zhang Lin returned to her phone, seemingly indifferent to Qin Mu’s presence.

“So, where has your godson been these past ten years?” Zhang’s mother asked.

“He served in the army,” Qiu Shuixia answered proudly.

“In the army? Doesn’t that mean he won’t be home much?” Zhang Qi seized the opportunity to question Qin Mu.

“Don’t worry, my Xiao Mu is very family-oriented,” Qiu Shuixia replied. “Whenever he’s on leave, he travels a long way just to visit us.”

“That’s all well and good, but if his superiors call, he’ll have to return, won’t he? And who knows how long he’ll be gone? My daughter would be left waiting at home.” Zhang Ping shook his head, leaving Qiu Shuixia momentarily at a loss.

“Here’s what we’ll do. Once the relationship is confirmed, all bank cards and salary cards should be managed by my daughter. And when you buy a house, pay in full and put my daughter’s name on the deed.”

Jiang Haishan frowned deeply. “Isn’t that a bit much?” Demanding the groom-to-be pay in full for a house and then put the bride’s name on it? That’s nothing short of daylight robbery.

“What’s so unreasonable about it?” Zhang Ping slapped the table, growing more assertive. “Look at my daughter—she’s a refined lady, the kind many wealthy young men fight over. If we weren’t old acquaintances, neighbors from the same village, how would your soldier son have a chance? Besides, let me tell you, houses on the outskirts or the edge of town don’t count. My daughter must live in the city center—at least a villa worth five million or more. If you can’t afford it, there’s no need to discuss further.”

Zhang Ping made his demands clear, then turned to Qin Mu, probing, “Young man, do you have the confidence to buy it?”

He was mainly trying to gauge Qin Mu’s wealth.

“Not bad, I can afford it,” Qin Mu replied calmly, sipping his tea.

Hearing this, Zhang Ping took a deep breath. It seemed the Jiang family’s son had indeed found his way—he could afford a villa worth several million.

If the family’s finances were decent, and Qin Mu himself was presentable, perhaps marrying his daughter off wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Zhang Qi, seeing that Qin Mu was quite wealthy, mulled it over and couldn’t help but interject, “Dad, my Bentley is getting a bit old.”

Zhang Ping caught the hint and nodded. “Right, my son’s car has been used for several years—it’s time for a new one. I think a BMW 7 Series would be nice. I’ll make the decision. Consider it helping your future brother-in-law get a new car. When we return to the village, everyone will say the Jiang family is generous—how impressive!”

Zhang Ping made the decision without giving Qin Mu a chance to respond.

Qiu Shuixia was bewildered. The match wasn’t even settled, yet here they were talking about buying houses and cars.

Jiang Haishan, meanwhile, was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Zhang Ping’s sharp demands were hard to swallow; if not for the sake of old neighbors, he would have walked out long ago.

“Ah, the dishes are here. Let’s eat first,” Zhang Ping said as the waiter knocked and entered.

“Don’t be shy—make yourselves at home.” Zhang Ping stood up to host, acting as though he were truly the master of the table.

Once the dishes were served and a bottle of the precious red wine opened, Zhang Ping addressed Jiang Haishan with grand gestures. “Old Jiang, you haven’t seen these specialties before, have you? Don’t be surprised—they’re common in high-end hotels. Eat whatever you like, don’t be embarrassed.”

Despite his generous words, his hands were busy, repeatedly helping himself to the foie gras on the table. The rest of the Zhang family was no less shameless—none paused to converse, their mouths and hands working ceaselessly, devouring the food like hungry wolves.

Zhang Qi took a bowl of bird’s nest soup and placed it before himself. After tasting it and praising it profusely, he called out to the staff, “Waiter, bring two more bowls of this bird’s nest!”

Only then did he seem to recall the Jiang family’s presence, laughing awkwardly and offering no explanation, continuing to help himself to the dishes as if missing out on a bite would be a loss.