Beijing, Tianhua Group Headquarters.
The serene calm of the general manager's office shattered as the door was flung open with reckless force. Behind the desk, a young woman looked up, startled. Her beauty was breathtaking—delicate as a flower, yet radiating an icy, regal aura. Even in her surprise, her expression remained composed, her poise unshaken. Her presence, laced with a faint, alluring fragrance, commanded the room.
A middle-aged woman burst in, her face etched with panic. The door still swung on its hinges as she cried out, "Luoyan, Zhengyang's surfaced! He's in Tianhai! A whole year, and he hasn't touched a single account. How has he survived?"
Pacing frantically, she rambled on. "That boy—why did he do something so foolish? Of all the women to cross, why Song Yingfei? If the patriarch finds out, he'll drag him back for punishment. No, I can't let him return!"
The young woman, Xu Luoyan, listened in silence, her face a mask of indifference. Only when the older woman stopped before her desk did she speak, her voice measured and firm. "Third Sister, I know you dote on him, but Zhengyang's no child. He needs to face the consequences of his actions. His disappearance this past year has caused pain to many. Forget the others—have you spared a thought for Song Yingfei?"
The woman flinched, her voice softening. "Luoyan, I know you don't care for Zhengyang, but I know my son. He's a flirt, sure, but he'd never have the guts for that. There's more to this story. It's unfair to condemn him without all the facts."
"Enough," Xu Luoyan cut in, her tone cold as steel. "This has no bearing on Tianhua Group, and I'm not interested in his affairs. Third Sister, please—don't bring him up again."
The woman's eyes glistened with pain. She knew her son had made mistakes, but as a mother, forgiveness came naturally. "Luoyan, it's been years. Can't you let it go? You two were so close as children. Zhengyang ignored everyone else but always listened to you. Why can't you forgive him?"
Xu Luoyan's jaw tightened, a flash of fury sparking in her eyes. The memory of that scandal still burned, a wound she refused to reopen. "Third Sister, I'm busy," she said, her voice clipped. "As chairwoman, you must have more pressing matters. Let's drop this. It's a feud between two great families now—leave it to Patriarch Lei. Whatever punishment Zhengyang faces will be just."
But the woman didn't budge. "Luoyan, even if you're heartless, can you really watch Zhengyang pay with his life? You know the Song family's wrath. If they track him down, he'll suffer horribly. Can you bear that? Can you?"
Xu Luoyan's fists clenched, knuckles white, her breathing sharp and uneven. Her eyes narrowed, fury simmering beneath her calm facade. "What do you want me to do?" she finally snapped. "The Lei family raised me for over a decade. I'll do one last thing—for you, or for them."
The woman's face lit up with hope. "I can't leave—Father won't allow it. Luoyan, please go to Tianhai. Find Zhengyang fast and warn him it's not safe. Tell him to disappear, to some backwater village if need be. Once the Song family's anger cools, I'll bring him back."
"He might not listen to me," she added, her voice trembling. "But he'll listen to you. Luoyan, I'm begging you."
Xu Luoyan's expression softened, her anger buried once more. "Fine. I'll do it. But Third Sister, this is the last time."
The woman grasped her hand, tears of gratitude in her eyes. "Luoyan, I knew you wouldn't abandon him. With you on his side, he'll be safe. He has to be."
Xu Luoyan said nothing, her eyes flickering with unreadable thoughts. No one could guess the storm brewing within her.
Word of Lei Zhengyang's whereabouts spread like wildfire. While onlookers merely gossiped, the Song family's reaction was explosive. Patriarch Song Yunhe, his long-simmering rage unleashed, issued a chilling decree: "Seize Lei Zhengyang—dead or alive—and bring him to me."
He was eager to see what excuses the Lei family's old warhorse could muster now. When the scandal first broke, Song Yunhe had stormed the Lei estate, demanding justice. Patriarch Lei had offered only a single defense: "That wayward grandson's gone. If he returns, we won't shield him. He'll face the law."
Song Yunhe hadn't believed a word, but with Lei Zhengyang vanished, his hands were tied. Now, the boy's reappearance was a spark to his pent-up fury, a chance to settle the score.
"Father," Song Xiyan, Yingfei's father, spoke up, his voice heavy with shame. The scandal had branded him with disgrace, making every public appearance a humiliation. "Since Lei Zhengyang's surfaced, shouldn't we deal with him first? The Yang family engagement can wait."
"No," Song Yunhe barked. "The engagement proceeds as planned. A punk like Lei Zhengyang doesn't warrant a spectacle. Xiyan, keep eyes on the Lei family. No more leniency. Once our alliance with the Yangs is sealed, uniting the North and South, the Leis will have nothing left to fear."
"Understood, Father," Song Xiyan replied. "I'll handle it."
At the Lei family estate, Patriarch Lei Yunbao stood by his study window, watching the crimson sunrise climb the horizon. A heavy sigh escaped him. He'd known his grandson Zhengyang was no pillar of virtue, but this level of idiocy? Resurfacing now was like walking into a lion's den. The truth of the scandal remained murky, but Zhengyang's absence had been a blessing, temporarily quelling the Song family's wrath.
Lei Yunbao had promised to deliver his grandson to justice, but as a grandfather, his heart harbored a flicker of bias. Secretly, he'd hoped Zhengyang would flee abroad, never to return. That dream was dead now.
The door creaked open, and Lei Chunping entered, his scholarly air at odds with the tension in the room. As Minister of Education and Zhengyang's father, he was a man of principle, long disillusioned by his wayward son.
"Father," Chunping said, his voice firm. "Zhengyang's back. I ask you to wash your hands of him. The feud with the Songs is already a powder keg. We can't let one man drag the Lei family into ruin. He made his bed—let the Songs deal with him. It's the least we owe them."
"Big Brother, think carefully!" Another voice cut in, sharp with indignation. Lei Xiaping, followed by Lei Qiuping and Lei Dongping—the Lei family's four brothers—strode in. "Zhengyang's your son! You can't just sentence him to death, no matter how cold you are. And this isn't just about him—it's the Lei-Song war. Abandoning Zhengyang is admitting defeat. How will the world see the Lei family then? Father, I oppose Big Brother's stance."
The brothers' arguments clashed, each voice rising. "Big Brother, have you read yourself stupid?" Lei Dongping snapped. "When have the Leis ever been spineless? No wonder Zhengyang refuses to call you Father. Do you even see him as your son?"
"I agree we can sacrifice for the family," Lei Qiuping added, "even Zhengyang if it comes to that. But as Leis, we fight to save our own. If we don't, people will think we're weak."
Lei Yunbao remained silent, his back to them, gazing at the dawn. He didn't voice his deeper fear: the upper echelons were growing weary of the Lei-Song feud. The nation needed stability, and their bickering threatened that delicate balance. If the conflict didn't resolve soon, the consequences could be dire. Even as a powerful patriarch, Lei Yunbao knew the country wasn't his to command. A rift in the Standing Committee could spell doom for the Leis.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low but resolute. "Third Son, go to Tianhai. Bring Zhengyang back. If he's guilty, he'll face justice through legal channels—no private vendettas. Be cautious, and avoid clashing with the Songs. We need to resolve this feud, not fuel it. As for Yingfei's suffering, Zhengyang owes them an explanation, one way or another."
Lei Qiuping, the only military man among the brothers, was chosen for a reason. Trained in the harshest conditions and commanding elite forces, he was uniquely equipped for the task. He nodded sharply. "Yes, Father." Without another word, he turned and left.