Lei Yunbao's face was grim, heavy with concern. Lei Qiuping, noticing, spoke up. "Father, are you worried about Zhengyang's safety? Don't be. My men are guarding him round the clock. If the Yangs want to touch him, they'd better have the skills to back it up."
Sweeping the face of both the Songs and Yangs was no small feat. The Songs, under the Leis' watchful gaze, couldn't move without being seen. But the Yangs were another matter. Their southern stronghold was far from the Leis' reach, and any retaliation could catch them off guard.
"The Yangs' power in the South is deeper than it seems," Lei Yunbao warned. "Don't underestimate them, Old Third. Tell Zhengyang to return to Beijing immediately. The South isn't safe."
Lei Qiuping nodded. "Understood, Father. I'll have him notified at once."
In Tianhai, Lei Zhengyang received the family's message but shrugged it off, continuing his leisurely strolls through the city's streets. Three days passed, unhurried and unbothered.
He knew the danger. Disrupting the Song-Yang alliance wasn't just about ruining a marriage—it had thwarted the Yangs' ambitions to infiltrate Beijing's power circles. To outsiders, it was a failed betrothal, but Lei Zhengyang saw the bigger game.
Even if Yang Yikun could swallow the humiliation of a few kicks, the true power behind the Yangs—Yang Tianhao—wouldn't let him walk away unscathed. The Yangs' pride demanded retribution.
So, Lei Zhengyang lingered, giving them their chance to strike.
After three days, he decided it was time to return to Beijing—not by plane, but with a train ticket, a choice that felt novel and intriguing.
Word reached the Yangs swiftly. Yang Yikun, his face still bandaged, swollen from Lei Zhengyang's slaps, seethed. His cracked lips barely closed as he hissed, "That bastard. I'll bury him without a grave."
Smack! A brutal slap came from behind, sending Yang Yikun sprawling. A towering, cold-faced man stood over him, his expression devoid of warmth—Yang Tianhao, his second uncle.
"Who gave you the right to deploy Blood Wolf?" Yang Tianhao's voice was a blade. "Do you think Yang family rules are a joke?"
Yang Yikun, the favored heir despite his siblings, had always been spoiled by his father, Yang Juchao. He feared no one—except this uncle. He'd once witnessed Yang Tianhao carve a failed bodyguard into five pieces, feeding them to the estate's wolfhounds. That memory had seared a deep terror into him.
"Angering your uncle again? Get out!" Yang Juchao stormed in, glaring at his son. "No leaving the estate for three months without my say-so." His scolding was a rescue, born of his intimate knowledge of his brother's ruthlessness. Yang Tianhao spared no one—not even family—when his killing intent flared.
Yang Yikun, sweating coldly, scrambled out.
Yang Tianhao took the main seat, ignoring Yang Juchao's status as patriarch. Outside, Yang Juchao called the shots, but before his brother, he was a mere errand boy. Years ago, when their third brother dissented, Yang Tianhao had cleaved him in two. The blood-soaked memory still haunted Yang Juchao.
"I'm disappointed, Big Brother," Yang Tianhao said, his voice laced with menace. "You're as useless as your pathetic sons, botching a simple marriage alliance and ruining my plans."
Yang Juchao shivered, despite their blood bond. "Second Brother, I did my best. No one predicted that Lei kid's stunt. He appeared at the worst moment, and the Song girl was unwilling. It all fell apart naturally. Honestly, letting Blood Wolf teach him a lesson wouldn't hurt."
Yang Tianhao's eyes flashed, silencing Yang Juchao with a glance. "With our current strength, we can't clash head-on with a titan like the Leis. I don't fear their martial power, but their political clout is beyond us. That's why I chose the Songs as our shield. But you and your idiot son turned us into a southern joke."
"Send Blood Wolf to 'teach' him?" Yang Tianhao sneered. "Why not go yourself and announce to the Leis you're hunting their boy? You're brainless."
Yang Juchao swallowed the insult, head bowed.
But Yang Tianhao's tirade eased. "Still, that Lei brat wrecked my plans and shamed our name. Letting him swagger off would make us a laughingstock. Contact the Fox. I'm sure he'll find this job… enticing."
A billion-yuan contract was indeed tempting for the Fox, a lone assassin who'd kill anyone for the right price, Lei or not. Yang Tianhao chose him for his cunning, his ruthlessness, and his independence—no ties, no allegiances, just money. The Yangs had cash to burn.
Whether the Fox killed Lei Zhengyang mattered little. The move would signal the Yangs' resolve: cross them—Lei or otherwise—and suffer.
The train was packed, teeming with students heading home for the holidays. Lei Zhengyang's window seat was a small victory. The crowded carriage didn't faze him; amid the noise, he read quietly, oblivious to the chaos around him.
Oddly, despite his youth as a high school dropout, five years in prison had awakened a hunger for knowledge. Fused with forty years of memories, Lei Zhengyang found himself a prodigy.
He held a book on 3D Programming, a nascent field few grasped. To him, its explanations were child's play compared to the six-dimensional systems of the future, four decades hence. He smirked at the gap.
A soft giggle broke his focus. Across from him sat two girls, both stunning, around eighteen or nineteen. Their faces were fresh and refined, their eyes sparkling with innocent mischief, their shy smiles betraying youthful charm. At that age, they were a vision, a double dose of beauty in the cramped carriage.
"Cough, Mr. Cool, aren't you overdoing the act?" one teased, her voice playful. "I bet you're a computer science major from Huadan University, pretending to ignore our Ziye here to catch her eye. Gotta admit, you're pulling it off."
Ziye?
Lei Zhengyang glanced at the girl in question. She was even lovelier than her friend, her dark hair tied back but exuding a fragrance that conjured images of her laughing in the breeze. Her red lips, gently pursed, stirred a fleeting urge to steal a kiss.
Ziye's friend, embarrassed, covered her mouth. "Sorry, upperclassman. Bingbing's just talking nonsense. We're from Huadan Academy. And you are…?"
Lei Zhengyang chuckled, shaking his head. "No worries. I'm just a high school grad, done with school. Picked up this book out of curiosity."
"No way!" Bingbing scoffed, unconvinced. "A self-taught genius, huh? If you're not from Huadan, you're from Tianhua or Tech Academy. And you definitely know Ziye, right?" To her, no guy could ignore Ziye's allure for so long unless it was deliberate. As Ziye's best friend, she knew her magnetic pull on men.
Lei Zhengyang laughed, amused. Whether he was from their schools or not, did he have to ogle Ziye to seem normal? Why were young girls' minds so peculiar?