Chapter 3: Europe

Nie Chao was dumbfounded once again: "???"

What?

What did he just hear?

Adding the character "Ancient" before "Europe" completely changed the meaning.

That was Europe from the 14th to the 16th century. Because of an intellectual and cultural movement, countless famous figures emerged in various fields such as literature, art, and music, and Europe transitioned from decline to prosperity from then on.

There were many royal families in Europe, but most no longer existed. The ones remaining to this day were ten royal families led by the UK, each with different etiquette.

It was just an ordinary sitting posture; he couldn't see any particular trick to it, so how could it be an inheritance of European royal etiquette?

But Nie Chao would not doubt Fu Yunshen's words.

Because this playboy had told him that the essential requirement to be a successful wastrel was to be knowledgeable in both astronomy and geography.

Nie Chao always felt there was something wrong with those words, but he couldn't quite figure it out, so he could only accept the teaching with humility.

It wasn't surprising that Shanghai's number one wastrel knew European royal etiquette, but this little sister from the Ying family who came from the countryside?

Ying Zijin opened her eyes, her expression unchanged.

She changed her sitting posture, resting her chin on her hand, looking incredibly lazy: "I've read the relevant books."

Fu Yunshen leaned back and smiled, "That's quite a unique hobby."

Ying Zijin did not respond further.

In about ten minutes, all the dishes were prepared.

There were no private rooms in Han Ge; each table was separated by cyan curtains. Incense burners were placed by the tables, filled with different scents according to the guests' preferences.

Nearby, there was a small stone bridge with flowing water, exuding a classical atmosphere.

Ying Zijin turned her head, her gaze shifting slightly.

Osmanthus, rosemary, agarwood, lavender, sandalwood... they were all calming medicinal herbs, clearly prepared intentionally.

In just this short time, she felt her spirit had improved significantly.

Ying Zijin lowered her eyes.

This was her first time on Earth, and it was the mid-15th century.

She hadn't expected she would ever return to Earth; after all, she was someone destined to die, and it hadn't been easy to come back to life.

Because her injuries were so severe that her soul was completely shattered, her consciousness had slept for nearly seventeen years, only fully waking up today. After waking, her situation was rather miserable.

Long-term anemia had made this body extremely weak—one could even say it was riddled with holes, fragile enough to break at a touch.

She needed a large amount of jade and medicinal herbs to improve her body and restore her vital energy.

But she lacked money.

She had stored quite a bit of gold in Europe before, but after so many years, the former banks should have gone bankrupt; she didn't know if her gold was still there.

Ying Zijin thought for a moment and asked, "Are there any fun places in Shanghai?"

"There are plenty." Nie Chao felt the intoxication rising and let out a drunken hiccup. "You've been here so long, haven't you gone out to play?"

"As a living blood bank, I probably don't have the concept of freedom."

Nie Chao was choked up once again.

"Drink this." Fu Yunshen handed the girl a bowl of longan and red date soup. Only after seeing her take it did he settle into his bamboo chair. "How many times has Ying Luwei been injured within this past year?"

Nie Chao froze for a moment, then calculated: "If we're just talking about hospital visits, no less than ten times."

As soon as this number came out, even he was startled.

It was common knowledge in all of Shanghai that Ying Luwei had hemophilia, so the socialites and young masters all protected her with great care.

She was also Jiang Moyuan's fiancée, proficient in everything from music to calligraphy, and beloved by the elders of the four great families.

They wouldn't even dare to touch her, so how could she have been injured so many times?

Nie Chao tested the waters: "Boss, you didn't... perform blood transfusions on her that many times too..."

The words reached the tip of his tongue, but he didn't finish.

More than ten blood transfusions—who could withstand that?

Ying Zijin slowly finished the longan and red date soup, narrowing her phoenix eyes, but she seemed indifferent: "More than that, right?"

The vitality of this body had been exhausted just as she woke up, and now it had only barely recovered a little, showing just how weak it was.

Nie Chao felt a mixture of emotions.

The Ying family took in an adopted daughter and provided her with fine food and drink, wasn't it just for that bit of blood?

They had long been accustomed to the darkness within wealthy families; there were even more despicable things than this.

Nie Chao sighed and beckoned a waiter, acting solicitously: "Boss, eat more. Seventh Young Master is right, you need to replenish your blood properly."

Ying Zijin looked at her plate, which had finally been cleaned and then refilled with pig liver: "..."

**

At that moment, the carved wooden doors of Han Ge opened once again.

Footsteps sounded, and a group of people walked in.

Leading them was a man with a tall and imposing figure.

His face was cold, and his eyes were indifferent.

Even the waiters at Han Ge couldn't help but stand a bit more formally upon seeing the newcomer.

No one in Shanghai would fail to recognize this face.

The Third Master of the Jiang family, Jiang Moyuan.

The number one heir of the four great families, possessing looks, status, and power all in one.

The man all the socialites in Shanghai dreamed of marrying.

The manager stepped forward, polite but not servile: "President Jiang, your reserved seat is over here. Please follow me."

Jiang Moyuan nodded and walked inward.

But just then, the secretary following behind suddenly stepped forward and whispered, "Third Master."

After speaking, he pointed in a certain direction.

Jiang Moyuan frowned but turned his head to look in the direction the secretary pointed, his gaze suddenly darkening.

A thin girl was sitting in a bamboo chair, her head turned aside; she looked very resistant, as if something was happening.

And the person sitting beside her, he knew him too.

Fu Yunshen.

That wastrel young master of the Fu family, whose reputation was exceptionally poor.

Even after being sent abroad for three years, he didn't seem to have improved at all.

As if thinking of something, Jiang Moyuan's frown deepened. He strode away, leaving the people following him staring at each other in confusion.

These people were all clients of the Jiang Group and were quite familiar with Jiang Moyuan's temperament.

The Third Master of Shanghai's Jiang family never showed his emotions; what could possibly make him change his expression like that?

"Third Master is going to discipline an unruly junior and will return later," the secretary apologized. "Please, everyone, take your seats first."