Early the next morning, the Song family's private villa welcomed its first guest: Lei Zhengyang.
The sight of him sent the guards at the gate into high alert, forming a tense blockade. Their captain, cool but polite, said, "Third Young Master Lei, my apologies. Minister Song has ordered that the Song family declines your visit."
"Minister Song" was Song Xiyan, and the refusal was a diplomatic brush-off. Bluntly put, Lei Zhengyang was persona non grata.
In Beijing, no one dared cross Lei Zhengyang lightly. Sure, he was a wastrel playboy with little real skill, but his knack for dirty tricks was legendary. Cross him, and he'd strip your dignity bare, no holds barred. People feared and loathed him in equal measure, powerless to resist.
For anyone else, the captain wouldn't have bothered, but this was Lei Zhengyang—he couldn't afford to offend him outright.
"No worries," Zhengyang said with a shrug. "I'm not here for Minister Song. I'm here to see Patriarch Song. Pass the word—I'd like to meet the old man." Though Song Xiyan ran the show, everyone knew as long as Song Yunhe lived, he held the family's final say.
Zhengyang wasn't here to waste time. He'd go straight to the top.
The captain hesitated briefly but nodded. "Please wait, Third Young Master."
Disturbing the patriarch now wasn't ideal, especially for the Song family's most despised figure. The scandal of last year's assault had branded Lei Zhengyang a beast across Beijing. But his infamous audacity was too much for most to handle. Best to relay the request and let the Songs decide.
In the inner courtyard, Song Yunhe was gracefully practicing Tai Chi, his movements slow and deliberate. Song Xiyan stood nearby, attentive. The patriarch's health was the linchpin of the Song family's fate—no detail could be overlooked. Though Song Xiyan and his siblings had their own homes, he spent most of his time here to care for his father.
"Chief, Lei Zhengyang's here. He wants to see you," the captain reported. As a Zhongnanhai bodyguard under the Ministry of State Security, he was practically a Song family member, prioritizing their interests.
"Lei Zhengyang? He's back?" Song Xiyan snapped. "What's he doing here? Tell him the patriarch won't see him—tell him to get lost."
As the captain turned to comply, Song Yunhe paused his Tai Chi, taking a towel from Xiyan. "Xiyan, you're not young anymore, but your temper's still too hot. This attitude won't do against opponents. Don't assume the Leis are our enemies just because of Yingfei. There are no permanent foes in this world—you've heard that, haven't you?"
Xiyan bowed to his father's wisdom. "You're right, Father. I understand. Let him in, then. I'm curious what he's up to."
But Song Yunhe chuckled softly. "Tell him I'm exercising and have no time. He can come back this afternoon."
The captain left with the message. Xiyan frowned. "Father, why—?"
Song Yunhe offered no explanation, only saying, "He may be Lei Zhengyang, but I'm not at his beck and call." Unbeknownst to Xiyan, the patriarch was testing the young Lei.
Moments later, Lei Zhengyang's figure appeared at the rear courtyard gate, strolling in casually. Xiyan's jaw dropped. "You—how'd you get in? Where's the guard? Guards! Guards!"
Zhengyang grinned. "Sorry, Minister Song. I sparred a bit with your guards—might've hit too hard. They're out cold, but don't worry, they'll wake up soon."
Xiyan's face reddened with fury, ready to summon more men to toss him out. But Song Yunhe laughed heartily. "Lei Zhengyang, you've got some nerve, kid, knocking out my guards. In such a rush to see me—here to beg forgiveness?"
As he spoke, a squad of armed soldiers stormed in—nearby patrols guarding this high-security zone. Beating guards and trespassing? They had authority to shoot.
Zhengyang didn't spare the tense soldiers a glance. "Patriarch, you're quite the joker. Beg forgiveness? I haven't done anything wrong. I'm the one wronged here, just looking for justice."
"Justice?" Xiyan roared, trembling. "You dare come to our house for justice? Where's our justice? Lei Zhengyang, you've gone too far!"
Zhengyang waved a hand. "Easy, Minister Song. Don't give yourself a heart attack—that'd be pinned on me too. Let's talk calmly, alright?"
Xiyan opened his mouth, but Song Yunhe cut in, waving off the soldiers. "Stand down. This is the Lei kid, pulling a little prank." The troops, well aware of Beijing's notorious playboy, retreated swiftly.
"Chief, breakfast is ready," a maid announced softly, stepping in.
Zhengyang seized the moment. "Perfect, I haven't eaten yet. Patriarch, you wouldn't mind sharing, would you?"
Xiyan gritted his teeth, seething. Song Yunhe, however, laughed warmly. "Of course not. Few youngsters care to dine with an old man like me. Xiyan, let's eat first—talk can wait."
Song Yunhe was disappointed. Xiyan was his finest son, but his composure needed work—rattled by a few words from this kid. Too undignified.
This once-worthless playboy's razor-sharp tongue forced Song Yunhe to reassess him.
If not for the patriarch's lead, Xiyan would've unleashed a tirade. Invite you to breakfast? I wouldn't give you scraps!
But he held his tongue, his face a mask of unfiltered disgust.
"Patriarch, looks like Minister Song's not thrilled to see me," Zhengyang quipped. "Might not dare come back next time." Yet he outpaced them to the dining table, diving in without ceremony.
As a top official, Song Yunhe's life was meticulously curated, especially his meals. Breakfast, though simple—porridge, side dishes, youtiao, and baozi—was crafted with precision. The baozi, for instance, had thin skins and rich fillings, bursting with savory meat, no corners cut.
"Patriarch, elders need lighter fare—greasy stuff's no good," Zhengyang said cheekily. "I'll help out, save you the waste."
Shameless. Utterly shameless. Xiyan watched, fuming, as Zhengyang treated the place like his own kitchen, devouring meat-heavy dishes. Three bites per baozi, he cleared a plate in seconds, then chugged a glass of soy milk with a gulp.
"Hey, any more baozi?" he asked the maid, unfazed.
"I'm sorry, sir," she stammered, blushing. "The Chief usually eats one or two, so we didn't prepare more." In her years of service, she'd never seen anyone eat so brazenly at the Song estate—or dare ask for seconds. She was nearly faint with shock.
Zhengyang shook his head. "That's the problem with you folks—lousy service. The Chief eats light normally, but what if he's in a mood for more? You'd make him wait while you cook? Turns a good mood sour. You're behind the times—step up your game, got it?"
The maid, intimidated, nodded frantically.
Xiyan clenched his fists, itching to smash Zhengyang's smug mouth. Song Yunhe, though, watched with a thoughtful glint in his eyes, saying nothing.
No more baozi, so Zhengyang munched youtiao and polished off several side dishes. Wiping his mouth, he burped. "Breakfast's just okay—could use improvement."
Okay? You ate a mountain of it! Xiyan thought. Improve it, and you'd turn into a pig.
"Alright, business time," Zhengyang said, leaning back. "Patriarch, last year's mess was a misunderstanding. I admire Yingfei, sure, but I never hurt her. Rape? Total nonsense—an injustice. I was tied up with other matters, couldn't clear my name, and it snowballed. I want this nonsense stopped."
"You coward!" Xiyan spat. "Do the deed and deny it? Are you even a man?"
Zhengyang smirked. "If I marry Yingfei someday and give you grandkids, Minister Song, you'll see just how much of a man I am. As for the Song-Yang alliance in the South? It's the Songs' worst call. It'll end with the Yangs swallowing you whole. Patriarch, you're sharp—you know what I mean. I know more about the Yangs than you do. You should dig deeper."
"Yingfei can marry anyone but a Yang," he continued. "It's not just her happiness—it's the Song family's future. Last year's mess hurt her, and I owe her for that. So I won't let this marriage happen—it's my way of making amends. Whatever you Songs think, I won't let her fall into the Yangs' trap."
He leaned forward, grinning. "If you still don't believe me, I can drag Yingfei to a doctor. She's still pure—oh, what's the term? A virgin."