Free Web NovelChapter 197: NO ONE COULD OBJECT TO THAT
They walked back through the archway together, and ShangYan kept his hand resting lightly on Guiying’s back.
The courtyard had changed while they were gone. The round tables had been cleared, the linens were folded, and the dishes had been carried away.
The guests had been moved into the main hall, which was a wider space with high ceilings and wooden beams that ran the length of it.
Lanterns hung from the crossbeams at intervals, and the chairs had been rearranged into rows facing the front of the room.
A long table had been set up there with papers, folders, and three glasses of water.
Guiying found Liuxian already seated near the front.
Liuxian looked at him as he sat down, and his eyes moved briefly across his face, reading everything that was there without asking.
He took Guiying’s hand and lifted it to his lips. He pressed them against Guiying’s knuckles once, gently, before resting the hand on his own knee.
He said nothing, because he didn’t need to.
Guiying sat up a little straighter when the side door opened and two men in dark suits entered.
Each man was carrying a leather briefcase.
They walked with the quiet assurance of men who were accustomed to solemn occasions, and they took their places behind the long table before arranging their documents with practiced efficiency.
Guiying felt his chest tighten, because it was time.
A low current of whispers traveled through the hall.
"Where’s Grandmother? Shouldn’t she be here for this?" someone asked.
"She’s unwell," someone answered softly.
"The doctors wouldn’t allow her to attend."
"I heard she wanted to come anyway," another voice said.
"She did," someone confirmed. "The family convinced her to rest."
The murmurs drifted from row to row before they gradually faded into silence.
The older of the two lawyers rose to his feet. His hair had gone grey around the temples, but his posture remained straight. When he spoke, his voice carried through the hall with calm authority.
"Good evening," Fang Guobin said. "My name is Fang Guobin, and this is my colleague, Chen Wenbo. We have served as legal counsel to Patriarch Xue Mingzhan for the past eighteen years."
He paused and allowed his gaze to pass over the assembled guests before he continued.
"Tonight, at the patriarch’s express instruction, we will be reading the contents of his duly executed will."
Chen Wenbo stood beside him and added, "The document has been witnessed, notarized, and filed in accordance with all applicable legal requirements. Once the reading has concluded, any party requiring clarification may approach us through the proper legal channels." He inclined his head politely before he took his seat once more.
No one spoke, and the silence that settled over the room felt almost ceremonial.
Fang Guobin opened the first folder and began.
"To my sons."
Every eye in the hall settled upon him. He adjusted the page before he continued.
He read, "To my eldest son, Xue Deyong, I bequeath the Suzhou residential estate together with all associated land rights and structures, twelve percent of my privately held shares in Xue Holdings, twenty percent of my personal investment portfolio, and liquid assets in the amount of one hundred and twenty million yuan."
A restrained murmur spread through the room, because even among people who measured wealth in generations rather than years, one hundred and twenty million yuan remained an impressive figure. Several relatives nodded quietly amongst themselves.
Margaret leaned towards the woman seated beside her and whispered something that drew an approving smile. Across the room, Zhou Meilan’s tightly clasped hands slowly relaxed, and the relief on her face was almost impossible to hide.
Deyong himself remained composed. He merely inclined his head respectfully towards his father before he settled back into stillness.
Without comment, Fang Guobin turned the page and continued.
"To my youngest son, Xue ShangYan, I bequeath the Hangzhou lakeside villa together with all associated land rights and structures, eight percent of my privately held shares in Xue Holdings, my collection of vintage automobiles, and liquid assets in the amount of eighty million yuan."
The murmurs resumed.
"The old patriarch has always been fair," someone said.
"A sensible distribution," another agreed.
"I expected nothing less," a third voice added.
Guiying found himself glancing instinctively towards ShangYan. The older man betrayed no emotion whatsoever. His posture remained relaxed, and his expression was unchanged, as though his own inheritance had no more significance than the weather outside.
It somehow made him even harder to read.
Fang Guobin continued.
"To my beloved wife, I bequeath full ownership of the family residence and all associated structures and grounds, all domestic accounts held solely in my name, and I establish in her favour a lifetime medical trust to provide for her comfort, care, and treatment without limitation."
Several elderly relatives smiled warmly.
"As it should be," one murmured.
"Only right," another said.
No one could object to that.
Indeed, no one did.
If anything, the atmosphere in the hall became more relaxed, because everything so far had been measured, thoughtful, and entirely reasonable.
The lawyer turned another page and read, "To my brothers and sisters, I direct that the properties designated under Schedule C be divided equally amongst them. I further bequeath the investment accounts listed under Schedule D together with the family antique collection that has been maintained for three generations. The distribution will proceed in accordance with the attached inventory."
The members of the British branch visibly brightened. One elderly uncle nodded in quiet satisfaction, while another woman subtly squeezed her husband’s hand.
Margaret herself looked considerably more at ease than she had only moments before. The reading had gone exactly as most people expected. It was fair, orderly, and predictable.
Fang Guobin lowered his eyes to the next section and said, "To my grandchildren."
The subtle ease that had settled over the room seemed to disappear all at once. Jiaming straightened in his chair, and Bowen unconsciously adjusted his sleeves. Guiying himself found his breathing slowing without quite knowing why.
Fang Guobin began to read.
"To my grandson, Xue Jiaming, I leave the property located in Kunming together with a fixed sum of ten million yuan. The monetary inheritance shall be placed in trust and released in portions over a period of six years."
There was a brief silence before another wave of whispers moved through the audience.
"The Kunming property," someone said.
"And ten million," another added.
"A six-year trust?" a third voice asked.
"The patriarch truly thinks ahead," someone murmured.
Jiaming lowered his head respectfully towards his grandfather, though satisfaction was unmistakable in his expression.
Beside him, Zhou Meilan’s smile became impossible to conceal.
Fang Guobin calmly turned the page and continued.
"To my grandson, Xue Bowen, I leave the Shanghai apartment together with a fixed sum of eight million yuan. The monetary inheritance shall likewise be placed in trust and released in portions over a period of three years."
Bowen gave a small respectful nod.
"The old patriarch has distributed everything with remarkable fairness," someone seated towards the back remarked quietly.
Another agreed that the trusts were probably wiser than unrestricted inheritances.
Several people even seemed visibly relieved, because whatever anxieties they had carried into the evening were slowly disappearing.
Fang Guobin’s fingers rested briefly against the final page before he lifted it.
"To my grandson..." he said. The room quieted almost instinctively. "...Xue Guiying." he finished.
