As Lei Zhengyang's figure vanished, Song Yunhe remained silent, but the gravity on his face betrayed the weight of his thoughts. To Song Xiyan, Zhengyang was a chaotic troublemaker, but Song Yunhe saw differently. The Song-Yang alliance was, indeed, a grave mistake.
"Xiyan, sever all ties with the Yangs," Song Yunhe said, exhaling in relief. "I made a blunder, but there's still time to fix it." At his age, wisdom came sharp—Zhengyang's hint had pinpointed the flaw.
"Father, you're not taking that punk seriously, are you?" Xiyan protested.
Song Yunhe glanced at his son, ignoring the question. "Drop the scandal case immediately. Announce it was a misunderstanding—a test for Lei Zhengyang."
Xiyan's face paled. The Songs had poured immense effort into the case, holding all the cards against the Leis. Victory was certain. Why abandon it now? "Father, you can't! This is our best shot to crush the Leis. Remember the lawyer? We're guaranteed to win!"
Song Yunhe shook his head, disappointed. "Xiyan, your thinking's still naive. Winning means what? Justice doesn't sway hearts—strength does. Even if we win, what can we do to the Leis? From Zhengyang, I see their enduring power. A so-called 'wastrel' endured years of humiliation. Could you do that?"
"Do you still think he's a wastrel?" he pressed.
Xiyan paused, grudgingly admitting, "I hate him, but his true edge is undeniable."
"But withdrawing the case will hurt us badly," Xiyan argued. "Father, won't you reconsider?"
"No need," Song Yunhe said firmly. "The case was just a pretext. Zhengyang's return broke the game. Push too hard, and he might drag Yingfei to a doctor to prove her innocence. Think he wouldn't dare? We'd be completely cornered."
"The Leis can afford a loss, but we can't," he continued. "One misstep, and we're done. Announce the withdrawal as a test of Zhengyang's worth for Yingfei. If the Leis propose marriage, we'll turn enmity into alliance."
Xiyan gaped, stunned. His father was dismantling their strategy, even considering Zhengyang as a son-in-law—unthinkable! "Father, you can't mean—"
Song Yunhe gave a wry smile, reading his son's expression. "Relax, it's just a face-saving excuse. Even if you agreed, Zhengyang might not. He's hidden his strength for years, and now his brilliance is breaking through. His future is beyond ordinary men. I miscalculated—badly."
"Fine," Xiyan sighed. "I'll handle it. But won't the Leis be upset?"
"No," Song Yunhe assured. "Old Lei wants peace too. As for using Zhengyang, last year's mess was his fault—he won't complain."
By afternoon, news of the Song's withdrawal spread like wildfire across Beijing.
A year ago, the scandal had rocked the capital, pitting the Songs against the Leis. With the perpetrator missing, the case stalled. Now, with Zhengyang's return, everyone expected a showdown—only for the Songs to drop the case at the pivotal moment.
The reason? Jaw-dropping. It was all a "test" to see if Zhengyang was worthy of Song Yingfei. He'd passed, and the Leis could now propose marriage.
Zhengyang's affection for Yingfei wasn't widely known, but insiders were aware. No one imagined the Songs would frame it as a trial. Most saw through the excuse, but the withdrawal was real, signaling a thaw in Song-Lei tensions. Zhengyang, far from ruined, emerged as a potential Song son-in-law.
Reactions varied: some sighed in relief, others reeled in shock, and a few seethed with rage.
At the Lei estate, Lei Yunbao roared with laughter, the weight of the feud lifting. The Songs were waning, but Song Yunhe's connections remained vast—fighting them would've cost dearly. Reconciliation was a godsend.
Better yet, Lei Xiaping reported success: following Zhengyang's tip, they'd caught the two behind Zhengchen's setup. After intense interrogation, all photos were recovered, resolving both crises perfectly.
"Where's Zhengyang?" Lei Yunbao asked, eager to praise the boy who'd single-handedly cleared two family headaches.
A secretary-like aide stepped in. "The guards say Third Young Master headed to the Yaochi Club."
Lei Yunbao's brow furrowed. His palm slammed the table. "That brat! Just dodged a bullet and he's back at that place? Can't he shake his old ways?"
"Chief, shall I summon him back?" the aide asked.
Fuming but resigned, Lei Yunbao shook his head. "Forget it. If he wants to play the wastrel, let him. It's always been his way—I won't force him."
The Yaochi Club, as its name suggested, was a haven of "celestial maidens"—and it didn't disappoint. Lei Zhengyang had once been a fixture here, with a private suite for nightly debauchery. With his status and wealth, the club's owners rolled out the red carpet.
As he strutted in, excited cries erupted.
"Third Young Master Lei, you're back!"
"Three, it's been forever! Your sisters missed you!"
"Three, I've been waiting for you to sing Peach Blossom—where've you been?"
A flock of beauties swarmed him, their voices a chorus of charm. Zhengyang's old reputation as a womanizer was legendary here—night after night of revelry, no holds barred.
But this time, he wasn't here for pleasure. He had business to settle.
Strange as it seemed, the Yaochi Club was the place for it. Once, it'd been his second home, and loose ends needed tying.
His hands roamed playfully over the women's curves as he waded through—slim, voluptuous, each a different thrill. Though he'd sworn off his wolfish ways, his touch was as deft as ever.
His hand landed on a plump rear clad in a slit qipao, squeezing three times. Oddly, the woman didn't flinch or giggle seductively. Looking up, he met a pair of icy eyes glaring at him.
She was mature—a woman, not a girl, in her prime. Her allure was intoxicating: arched willow brows, misty eyes that drew you in yet eluded clarity, cherry lips exhaling a faint, bewitching fragrance. Her full bust strained against the rose-colored qipao, its high slit teasing a glimpse of hip. She was a masterpiece, a living aphrodisiac, igniting primal urges in any man nearby. Zhengyang had lusted after her before, but she was a rose with thorns—beyond his grasp.
"Third Young Master Lei, a year gone, and your charm's as potent as ever," she said coolly. "I, Leng Youran, am not so easily groped. How's the feel? Better than Luo Luo's?"
"Boss Lady, don't tease," Zhengyang laughed. "I've never laid a hand on Luo Luo—gave you that respect. A few squeezes as compensation, you don't mind, right?"
Leng Youran's eyes, her most captivating feature, shimmered like mist, luring you in only to drown you in her stunning beauty.
"You're just in time," she said. "Any later, and I couldn't protect that little loli you've been keeping. Room Six, Tianzhi Tower. Impress me, and I might let you cop a few more feels."