Rebirth: My Dear Little Wife Is So Scheming

Chapter 958: Chapter 958 Collision

"Impossible! Zhuo Lin, do you think I don’t know what kind of person you are? You’re someone who is passionate about design—you would never do something like that. That’s the very thing you’ve always despised the most." Yu Feixue couldn’t believe it.

Zhuo Lin smiled bitterly and pushed his plate to the side.

"I never expected that the person who understands me the most in this world is you. I’ve always just thought of you as one of my juniors. Life truly has a sense of irony."

He Weng took a sip of red wine. The food here was truly delicious, and this bottle of wine—it was the kind his friend had recommended last time, ridiculously expensive, but worth a try.

"Since Feixue believes you’re not that kind of person, then I trust her judgment. If you’re in some kind of trouble, we can figure out a way to help you together."

He never judged people by their appearances. noveldrama

Since Yu Feixue trusted this Zhuo Lin so much, he ought to adopt a more approachable attitude as well.

Zhuo Lin was incredulous. He never thought a stranger would extend this kind of help to him.

"Zhuo Lin, what are you doing here? What’s going on with this hotel? Do they let just anyone walk in nowadays?"

An irritating voice rang out before the person even appeared.

Zhuo Lin shot up out of his seat.

"Uncle, I didn’t expect us to run into each other."

The anger and resentment in his voice were palpable.

He Weng and Yu Feixue turned their heads and saw four impeccably dressed middle-aged men standing behind them. The one leading the group wore glasses and was a portly man, staring at them with visible disdain.

That gaze was anything but friendly.

"Zhuo Lin, don’t address me like that. I don’t have a nephew like you. You should know how much hope your grandfather placed in you. Your father left home all those years ago, causing a huge loss for the family. Your grandfather didn’t even hold it against you two—he brought you and your mother back into the house.

He hoped you’d have the decency to live up to expectations and inherit the family business. What kind of company do we run? You’re not unaware of it. We’re an investment firm; what we need are talents skilled in finance. But you deliberately ran off to study fashion design, infuriating your mother and forcing your grandfather to kick you out.

And now that you’ve been expelled from school, you’re coming to me for what exactly?

Let me tell you—your grandfather has already made it clear. You are no longer part of the Zhuo Family. Whatever your fate may be, rich or poor, it has nothing to do with us. Even if you ascend to riches someday, we won’t envy you. So why keep chasing after us, running to me now? What is it you want?"

The man next to him chuckled. "Oh come on, Zhuo Tang, isn’t it obvious? Just look at him—a picture of destitution. Surely he’s hoping you, as his uncle, will lend him a hand. After all, he’s still your nephew, right? Toss him some pocket money. Isn’t it true that spending some money can often avoid trouble? Every family has at least a couple of broke relatives, don’t they?"

Far from calming things down, this was pure provocation.

Zhuo Lin’s face contorted with rage.

Zhuo Tang smirked and said, "You’re right; as his uncle, I’ve been a bit too heartless. Even though your grandfather kicked you out of the family, we do still share some blood ties. Seeing you in such a miserable state, if I don’t reach out to help, it would truly be unforgivable.

After all, your father and I are brothers."

"Since that’s the case, alright then—take this money."

He pulled out his wallet, took out a wad of cash, and tossed it in Zhuo Lin’s face.

The disdain in his gesture was undeniable—like tossing a bone to a stray dog on the street.

The scattered banknotes fluttered around Zhuo Lin like flower petals in the wind, landing all over the floor.

"Well, nephew, since your uncle gave you money, hurry up and pick it up," sneered the man from earlier, his malicious gaze clearly reveling in the mockery.

This was deliberate, blatant humiliation.

Zhuo Lin was breathing heavily.

Coming here had been a mistake—everything about it was wrong.

"What, you think this money is beneath you? You should know it’s enough to cover your living expenses for a few months. Young people shouldn’t forget their place."

Zhuo Tang was smug. He looked down on his nephew, especially for trying to fight him for the family inheritance. This was the outcome—this was his downfall.

Wealth isn’t something everyone can enjoy.

"Four grown men, supposedly elders, bullying a young person—how utterly disgraceful. Nowadays, it seems money only makes people more vile. Lucky for me, they’re not my relatives; otherwise, I’d give them a slap across the face and teach them what it means to act like proper elders," He Weng said as he pulled Zhuo Lin back and made him sit down.

"Eat your meal. People like that are just beasts barking in your ear. It’s not worth lowering ourselves to their level."

He Weng resumed drinking his wine.

A warmth flooded Zhuo Lin’s heart. Ever since he arrived on Hong Kong Island with his mother, he had endured continuous ostracism from his relatives—the so-called brothers and uncles treated him like an outsider. All they ever did was ridicule, laugh at his expense, and treat him and his mother as freeloaders. Their scorn was relentless, both overt and implied, treating him with disdain and his mother like a servant.

For his mother, life in the old mansion had been unbearable. She was constantly bossed around, looked down upon, and ignored. Zhuo Lin had hoped that after securing a successful career through hard work, he could graduate, find employment, and take his mother far away from the Zhuo Family. But everything unraveled—he got expelled, and his mother passed away suddenly due to anger and despair.

His mother had still been young, and all of this—the torment, the suffering—was unbearable.

Zhuo Lin blamed himself and deemed his predicament a result of his own failures.

But despite his struggles, he knew the truth deep down. His designs had always been saved in his computer, and he vividly recalled the day when his cousin had come into his room, claiming his computer was broken and borrowing Zhuo Lin’s to draw something. Back then, he hadn’t thought much of it.

But when he looked back, it was too coincidental—something didn’t add up. He couldn’t dismiss the thought that there was deliberate sabotage involved.

His grandfather flew into a rage and threw him out of the family. His mother died of a cerebral hemorrhage. Everything—the events, the timing—it all seemed too convenient.

He couldn’t shake the suspicion that his smug uncle standing before him wasn’t innocent in all of this.

His relatives wanted nothing more than to ruin him. Yet here were Yu Feixue and He Weng, people who had just met him, standing up for him, protecting him. This unexpected kindness filled Zhuo Lin’s heart, like holding a warm bun in the dead of winter—it was impossibly comforting.

"Who are you to speak up? Haha, young people these days really flock together. Birds of a feather, aren’t they? Even someone like Zhuo Lin, a piece of trash, has people willing to defend him. I can’t imagine what he offers you.

I’m telling you now, young man—Zhuo Lin is no longer part of the Zhuo Family. He’s been disowned by the old master. If you think you can cozy up to him for some sort of advantage, let me forewarn you—you’re making a foolish bet. He, Zhuo Lin, has nothing to offer, not a cent to his name. He’s flat broke! You’d still want to be his friend?

Zhuo Lin, by the way, this meal isn’t cheap. I’m not trying to be cruel, but you should pick up the money on the floor—it’s probably enough to cover the bill. Young people shouldn’t be so prideful. Your friends might not know you’re penniless, and pretending to have resources you don’t will only make things worse." Zhuo Tang didn’t hold back, driving Zhuo Lin further into the dirt.