Liu Weiwei was leaving, and with her departure came a pang of melancholy. For the first time, Lei Zhengyang felt a twinge of reluctance toward a woman—a strange, unfamiliar warmth that stirred his heart.
He kept it buried, offering only a gentle smile and his blessings.
Compared to the quiet ache in Lei Zhengyang's chest, Liu Weiwei was a whirlwind of efficiency. Her bags were packed, her appearance polished to perfection. The farewell wasn't a somber end but a vibrant new beginning, and her excitement shone through. With light makeup accentuating her features, she was breathtaking, her charm almost too much to bear. She'd spent two hours at her vanity, crafting this moment to leave him with an unforgettable image of her beauty.
"Zhengyang, am I pretty?" she asked, her face hovering close to his, radiant with confidence. Her natural allure, amplified by her meticulous care, was dazzling. This parting wasn't a goodbye—it was the spark of something new, not just for her career but for the feelings blossoming in her heart.
In Beijing, they'd be closer. Maybe she'd visit his family, win over his elders. Lei Zhengyang might be a stoic blockhead, but she was versatile—equally at home in the kitchen or a grand hall. Surely, she could charm his family, paving the way for a future together.
Unbeknownst to her, Lei Zhengyang's past as a reckless playboy was far from stoic. That she'd lived with him for half a month and remained untouched would stun any Lei family member. A chaste coexistence with him? Unthinkable.
Lei Zhengyang nodded, his grin warm. "Stunning. Full of charm, elegance in spades—you're a vision, Vivi. Spring breeze, willow grace, the works. Gotta admit, you're tempting me."
Her eyes sparkled with delight, her laughter bright. "Really? What a shame you let your chance slip. I'm leaving now, but if you change your mind, come find me in Beijing. Don't worry—I won't fall for someone else that fast. You've still got a shot."
Her playful sway, all curves and confidence, was a siren's call—lithe waist, rounded hips, poised shoulders. She was a masterpiece, flaunting her allure with effortless perfection.
A spark of desire flared in Lei Zhengyang, and he couldn't resist. His hand darted out, giving her rear a bold squeeze. "Deal," he teased, his voice low. "But how about a little advance on those benefits?"
She swatted his hand away, glaring. "Dream on! A woman's treasures are for her boyfriend—or future husband. Want a piece of me? Chase me. Win me over, and there's plenty more where that came from."
Her defiance only stoked his urge to pull her close, to kiss her senseless and douse the fire in his veins. But her phone's ringtone broke the moment. She glanced at the screen, grinning. "It's my future boss. See? I'm a big deal."
She stepped aside to take the call, but when she returned, the carefree joy had vanished. A faint shadow of sorrow clouded her face as she slipped the phone into her pocket. "Zhengyang, it's time. I've gotta go." Her voice softened, heavy with emotion. "Remember, when you're back in Beijing, you better call me. Don't make me hate you."
She started to turn, but spun back, throwing herself into his arms. Her voice cracked, choked with tears. "Zhengyang, you're heartless. Can't you see I don't want to leave? Why haven't you said a word to keep me here? Am I that unworthy?"
His arms hovered, caught off guard. He'd flirted with the idea of holding her, kissing her, but it was just a fleeting thought—they weren't there yet. Now, with her clinging to him, he felt a pang of awkwardness.
Not stopping her was for her sake. Lei Zhengyang knew himself too well. Even if he won the goddess of his heart, Song Yingfei, his wandering nature would never settle. Liu Weiwei was a rare gem, deserving of a complete, unshattered love—not the fleeting affection of a drifter like him.
"Hey, you're the one throwing yourself at me," he teased, his hands settling on her hips with a playful grab. "I'm not holding back."
He expected her to pull away, flustered. But this time, she didn't. Her cheeks flushed, and she murmured, "We're parting ways. One touch is my farewell gift to you. Zhengyang, here's a secret: I'm starting to fall for you."
Before he could respond, she grabbed her suitcase, gave him one last, lingering look, and walked out. The door closed slowly, severing their gaze.
He didn't chase her. He knew if he did, she'd abandon everything to stay, tethered to him forever. But he couldn't let her regret it. She didn't yet know the real Lei Zhengyang—the man behind the mask. Her affection now could turn to bitter scorn once the truth surfaced.
"Vivi," he whispered to the empty room, "safe travels. May you find a lifetime of happiness."
Lei Zhengyang sank onto the couch, unmoving as night fell. He savored the unfamiliar sensation of being loved, a novelty that eased his restless mind. But one mystery gnawed at him. His hellish journey had forged him into a man of iron, yet the Golden Dragon's power—the ultimate gift of his trials—remained dormant.
He remembered its radiance, a seven-colored blaze like a furnace in his soul. Yet now, no trace of it lingered, as if it had never existed. The Golden Dragon's might was unmatched, dwarfing even a year of brutal training.
Strangely, when his heart softened, yearning to comfort Liu Weiwei, that extinguished power had stirred, flickering faintly within him. He couldn't fathom why.
Time blurred, and soon, the day of the Song-Yang engagement arrived.
Tianhai, already a cauldron of tension due to Lei Zhengyang's presence, simmered with unease. The engagement, meant to be a joyous union, carried an undercurrent of disquiet, amplified by his shadow.
Song Yingfei, the bride-to-be, remained unaware of Lei Zhengyang's return. Since last year's scandal, she'd buried herself in TianDing Group's growth, shunning the outside world to escape gossip and judgmental stares. Love, she'd decided, was no longer her concern. The engagement was just another task, orchestrated by the Song family. She needed only to show up, treat it like work.
But recently, she'd made a painful choice, echoing Liu Weiwei's resolve: to sever all burdens and live the life she wanted. After enduring twenty years of family duty and sacrifice, she craved two simple words: freedom.
July 15th dawned cooler than the sweltering days before, with overcast skies casting a chill over Tianhai. Yet inside the Pearl Grand Hotel, the atmosphere was electric. The venue, fully reserved, glittered with opulent decorations—lights ablaze, joy in the air. Today, Yang Yikun, eldest grandson of the southern Yang family, would pledge his troth to Song Yingfei, the Song family's cherished daughter.
To outsiders, it was a match made in heaven. But whispers of scandal clung to it. Yang Yikun's playboy antics filled southern tabloids, while Song Yingfei's name still carried the stain of last year's shocking affair in Beijing. The Lei family, the Song family, and now the Yangs—southern titans—made this engagement a spectacle from the moment it was announced.
With the Song and Yang families' clout, nearly every notable figure in Tianhai attended. Only 364 golden invitations had been sent, but over 2,000 guests flooded the event. The uninvited came to curry favor, to bow before the Yangs' southern dominance. Crossing them was a fool's game.