Reborn as a Fake Heiress Marrying the Tycoon novel Chapter 1107

Chapter 1107: Dredging Up Old Horrors

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The women’s eyes darted around the immaculate interior, taking in the tasteful arrangement of furniture, the gleaming floors, and the artfully landscaped courtyard where blossoming crabapple trees cast delicate shadows.

A murmur of admiration rippled through the group. "Gu Zi, you’re truly a woman of refinement!" one exclaimed, fanning herself for dramatic effect.

Gu Zi, momentarily overwhelmed by the chorus of praise, offered a modest smile. "Just childproofing, really. Little ones and sharp corners don’t mix."

She gestured toward the kitchen. "Let me brew some herbal tea. It’s perfect for cooling off in this heat."

As she slipped away, Su Bing took charge of entertaining the guests with the effortless poise of a seasoned hostess half his age.

The women watched, enchanted, as Su Bing poured tea with steady hands.

"Southern women," one of the ladies sighed, elbowing another. "They say the water down there breeds beauty and brains, and now I believe it. Try finding a Northern girl this elegant and hardworking!"

Her companion cackled. "Oh, ours are pretty enough, but the ones who labor end up with hands like shovel blades! Did you see Gu Zi’s fingers? Smooth as jade, that one."

When Gu Zi returned with a tray of fragrant tea, the compliments pivoted to her parenting. "These children of yours!" clucked one woman, pinching Su Le’s cheek. "Raising them so well-mannered and clever—it’s witchcraft, I tell you!"

Gu Zi’s smile didn’t waver, though her grip tightened on the doorframe. "This isn’t the Wild West, Jiang Nan. Besides—" She nodded toward Big Yellow, now gnawing a beef bone with unsettling vigor. "Our security system comes with teeth."

For a fleeting second, something flickered behind Jiang Nan’s eyes—too quick to decipher. "Well then," she said, adjusting her scarf with a tight laugh, "I’d best go stew my in-laws’ lentils before they revolt."

As the gate clicked shut, Gu Zi exhaled slowly.

Odd, she mused. Every warning about Jiang Yao seemed to trace back to Jiang Nan, always draped in doom like a funeral shroud. Yet the other villagers? They laughed over tea without so much as a glance toward the past.

Most telling of all—who dredges up old horrors for fun? Unless, of course, they’ve got skin in the game.