Manipulative Harem God

Chapter 507 Sister in Law?

"Hey, Zhang Wei!"

Qi Xiang was at the back of the building, deeply engaged in a lively conversation with a few colleagues.

He was just about to head back inside the restaurant to check on his wife when his eyes caught a familiar figure in the distance.

He paused, squinting slightly under the soft evening light, as a man accompanied by a woman approached.

Although the man's appearance had changed somewhat since he last saw him a year ago, Qi Xiang's instincts kicked in.

He couldn't shake the feeling of recognition.

Without hesitation, Qi Xiang shouted, his voice carrying across the open space, "Hey, Zhang Wei!"

He watched carefully for any sign of recognition.

??

When Zhang Wei turned around, locking eyes with him and confirming his identity, a wide grin broke out on Qi Xiang's face.

Qi Xiang quickened his pace, his steps brisk with excitement as he approached them. "Zhang Wei! I barely recognized you with the new look. What's with this long white hairs? Are you working in drama industry now?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both surprise and warmth.

As he drew closer, Qi Xiang's grin remained plastered on his face, his eyes darting briefly to the woman beside Zhang Wei.

Qi Xiang's eyes widened as he noticed the swaying girl with a flushed face being supported by Zhang Wei. 'Who is this new woman?' he wondered silently.

As far as he knew, Zhang Wei was still married and hadn't filed for divorce.

Could something have happened in the last year?

Despite his growing suspicion, Qi Xiang's gaze shifted back to Zhang Wei, looking for some sort of explanation.

Zhang Wei, sensing the unasked questions in the air, chose to divert the conversation with a light chuckle, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "It's been a while, Brother Xiang. Yes, I've changed a bit, for better or worse... By the way, where is sister-in-law?" He looked around, seemingly casual but clearly steering the topic away from Xiong Mei.

"Your sister-in-law is inside, come, I'll guide you in," Qi Xiang replied, his tone friendly but still tinged with curiosity.

Understanding that Zhang Wei was not inclined to divulge details about this younger girl at the moment, he decided to let it go for now and led them inside.

As they walked, Qi Xiang removed his gloves, a gesture that spoke of his readiness to handle whatever the evening might bring.

Qi Xiang himself was a figure of contrast to his surroundings.

With a few strands of white already threading through his hair despite being in his mid-thirties, his appearance spoke of experiences beyond his years.

Thirteen years ago, he had been a resident of Xing Cheng.

However, the lack of opportunities there had prompted him to move to Xueshan in search of better prospects.

He started his career at a resort and hospitality company, which eventually led him to his current life.

After two years of gaining experience in the hospitality industry, Qi Xiang ventured out on his own to open "Winter Mist Pavilion."

A year later, he married and diversified his interests by venturing into the business of wood export as well.

Zhang Wei's own journey, on the other hand, has been more adventurous but starkly different.

Initially, Zhang Wei didn't have much of a 'personality' to speak of until he moved to Qingyun at the age of sixteen.

There, he found himself in a complex social fabric, mingling with both the society and the underworld.

This period marked his transition into adulthood; he started high school upon turning seventeen, then moved on to university at twenty, completing his education at twenty-three.

He married in the same year he graduated, and spent the next three years immersed in his new life.

As he turned twenty-five last August, he found himself reflecting on the rapid changes in his life.

That was also the last time Zhang Wei had met with Qi Xiang and his sister-in-law, Murong Jinxiang.

Before Zhang Wei ever set foot in Qingyun, his life was starkly different, almost unrecognizable to those who knew him later.

In fact, few would believe that in the bustling, somewhat shady city of Xueshan—known for its loose lifestyle filled with drugs and freewheeling social scenes—he was an oddball who not only avoided but actively disliked women to a significant extent.

However, stepping into Qingyun seemed to be a transformative turning point for him.

It was as if the city itself baptized him, embracing and amplifying his scoundrel tendencies, and he fully accepted this new identity with open arms.

The details of his past in Xueshan were known by very few, and his even earlier days in Hufeng were known by even fewer.

The layers of his history were complex and deeply intertwined with the fabric of these cities.

People are often shaped by their experiences, or even the experiences of their ancestors, and Zhang Wei was no exception.

Carrying the lineage of an emperor, he found himself unknowingly stranded in the mortal plane.

His true nature began to erupt when he reached Qingyun, further amplified by the existence of a mysterious system that seemed to influence his actions and decisions, steering him down a path that was dramatically different from others.

_______

In the bustling ambiance of the pavilion, an irritated woman faced off against three monks.

The senior among them, Monk Sheng, wore the deep brown robes of an inner court disciple, his expression serene despite the tension.

Flanking him were two junior monks, Jian and Huo, clad in the lighter brown of the outer court, their youthful faces marked with concern.

"How many times must I repeat myself? I do not know your Abbot, and I have no intention of coming with you!" the woman exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration, her delicate lips quivering slightly.

"Reverend Sister, we understand your reluctance, but we merely wish to discuss a matter of great importance. It concerns you directly, and we believe it could be beneficial," Monk Sheng responded, his voice calm.

"I've told you already, I'm not interested! You must be mistaking me for someone else," she retorted irritated.

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