As noon approached, a convoy of sleek black luxury cars rolled up to the Pearl Grand Hotel's entrance. The deafening crackle of firecrackers erupted, blending with the lively strains of Ode to Joy from the band stationed on the lawn. Media swarmed the scene, cameras flashing, reporters jostling for position.
"Miss Song's here! Miss Song's here!"
Song Yingfei, though renowned, rarely appeared in public, making her arrival a spectacle. Before her car door even opened, a blizzard of camera flashes lit up the scene, journalists and photographers scrambling to capture the moment.
"Xiaofei, can you at least try to smile?" Song Xiyan whispered, guiding his daughter's hand. "Today's supposed to be a happy day. Don't disappoint me or your grandfather."
Song Yingfei stayed silent. Truth be told, she had no heart for this charade.
"Hahaha!" A hearty laugh cut through the clamor. A group emerged from the hotel's entrance, led by a middle-aged man in a crisp suit, exuding the aura of a seasoned powerbroker. Beside him, impeccably dressed, was Yang Yikun. The man was Yang Juchao, patriarch of the Yang family.
"Brother Xiyan, it's been half a year since we last met! How've you been?" Yang Juchao's voice boomed, his confidence backed by the Yangs' southern dominance.
Song Xiyan stepped forward with Yingfei, shaking hands with practiced warmth. "Thanks to your blessings, all's well. You're looking sharper than ever, Brother Juchao. Business must be thriving, wealth pouring in!"
"You're too kind," Yang Juchao chuckled. "We're family now—no need for formalities. Yikun, take care of Xiaofei. After today, she's a Yang. If you let her down, I'll be the first to skin you."
Yang Yikun's gaze lingered on Song Yingfei, her beauty like a rare bloom. Last year's scandal had tarnished her name, but to him, she was a prize worth claiming. He'd never pass up the chance to toy with such a gem. With a gentlemanly bow, he gestured toward the entrance. "Yingfei, most of the guests are here. Shall we? Today's our engagement, a blessing I earned in a past life. I'll cherish you forever, my treasure."
Song Yingfei had heard such honeyed words before. Her brow twitched, her voice cool. "Let's go inside. Words are cheap—actions prove worth."
"Exactly!" Yang Juchao laughed. "Yikun, it's on you now. Brother Xiyan, let the kids handle their affairs. After the banquet, we'll discuss our partnership. Beijing's tides are shifting—we need to prepare."
Song Xiyan nodded eagerly, the alliance his family craved. "Absolutely, Brother Juchao. We're one family now, supporting each other. Father will be thrilled with your vision."
"It's settled then," Yang Juchao said. "Brother Xiyan, after you!"
"Together, together!"
Xu Luoyan hadn't come for the banquet. The Songs and Yangs meant nothing to her. She was at the Pearl Grand Hotel for one reason: she knew Lei Zhengyang would show.
Deep down, a faint hope flickered.
"The Yangs are no small players," Cold Heart remarked, a trace of schadenfreude in her voice. "Delegates from every southern province are here to celebrate. If the Songs and Yangs unite, no matter who's the pawn, the Leis are in for a rough ride."
The Lei family had no ties to the Hidden Sect. Xu Luoyan's placement with the Xu family was meant to give her a normal life, but her connection to the Leis—through the Xu daughter's marriage—had entangled her with Lei Zhengyang, derailing Cold Heart's plans. Though Xu Luoyan was back on track, Cold Heart harbored no fondness for the Leis.
Xu Luoyan ignored her aunt's jab, her question direct. "Is he here?"
Without Third Sister's plea, without Lei Zhengyang, the Lei family's fate would be irrelevant to her. But some bonds, once forged, couldn't be erased. Five years ago, Lei Zhengyang's actions had shattered her trust—spying on her bath, recording it on a disc. She'd wanted to kill him. Yet now, the hatred had dulled, leaving only echoes.
Any man might succumb to youthful impulses, but she was his aunt by marriage. His betrayal—crossing that taboo line—had broken her. They'd grown distant, strangers bound by a fractured past. Without Third Sister's request, she'd never have come to Tianhai. By now, she'd be back at the Hidden Sect, and their next meeting might be years away, when they'd be nothing but ghosts to each other.
Still, a part of her hoped—hoped he'd become the man she once believed he could be.
The Pearl Grand Hotel's second floor was a sea of banquet tables, hosting nearly seven hundred of Tianhai's elite. Red carpets lined the halls, and as Yang Juchao and Song Xiyan entered, the guests rose, their applause thunderous.
The emcee took the stage, his voice ringing out. "Honored guests, welcome to the engagement of Mr. Yang Yikun and Miss Song Yingfei! In this joyous moment, let us witness their vows of love and dreams for the future. Now, please—"
The emcee, a master of atmosphere, orchestrated the ceremony like a crescendo. From Yang Juchao to Song Xiyan to the parade of dignitaries offering blessings, the applause never faltered, building to a fever pitch.
"And now, let's welcome our radiant couple!" the emcee boomed. "With all these blessings and flowers, they must have much to share. Look at our dashing groom, our exquisite bride—surely no one objects to their union as a perfect pair, right?"
"I object!"
The words cut through the hall like a blade, silencing the crowd before applause could erupt. The festive air froze, as if doused with ice water. Guests who'd begun to cheer choked on their words, swallowing hard. All eyes turned to the source—a lone figure at the hall's entrance.
A tall, poised silhouette strode in, exuding unshakable calm. "I'm right on time," he declared, his voice resonant. "I object to this engagement. Don't stare—I have the right. I'm Song Yingfei's man. Allow me to introduce myself: Lei Zhengyang."
The hall exploded, a cacophony of gasps and whispers.
Onstage, Song Yingfei and Yang Yikun reeled. Yang's face twisted with fury, while Yingfei's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He was here? And daring to spew such madness at her engagement?
No one had forgotten last year's scandal. Though Lei Zhengyang's disappearance had buried the case, the simmering Lei-Song feud kept it alive in whispers. His arrival now was a spark to dry tinder, igniting gossip and anticipation. Ears perked, eyes gleamed—the crowd was ravenous for the drama.
"Lei Zhengyang, you've got some nerve showing your face here!" Song Xiyan roared, leaping to his feet. "Do you have a death wish?" He hadn't expected the Lei family's sheltered playboy to have the gall to crash this event, let alone hurl such insults, reminding everyone of his daughter's tarnished honor and slighting the Yangs.
Yang Juchao rose, his eyes glinting with cold menace, but his smile was measured. "So, it's Young Master Lei. My apologies—our oversight for not sending you an invitation. Today's my son's engagement to Yingfei. If you'd like, stay for a drink before you go."
Unlike the Songs' alarm, Yang Juchao feared disruption above all. Yingfei's past—scandal or not—was irrelevant. Even if she were a common courtesan, the Yangs needed this marriage to cement their grand ambitions. No one, not even Lei Zhengyang, could derail this banquet.
But not everyone shared Yang Juchao's restraint. Yang Yikun's composure snapped. The sight of Lei Zhengyang unleashed a torrent of pent-up rage and humiliation. As the Yang heir, he could have any woman—yet for the family, he'd swallowed his pride, accepting a fiancée stained by scandal, a green hat he'd worn in silence.
Now, this shameless rogue dared to strip him of dignity in front of everyone, leaving no shred of face intact.