The morning sun crept over the horizon, casting golden light over the Li Manor. But warmth had never truly entered this home. Not between its icy master and the ghosts each resident carried.
Inside the east study, Li Zeyan stood before a smart mirror, adjusting his tie with mechanical precision. He had a board meeting in less than an hour, yet his mind wasn't on stocks or acquisitions.
It was on the boy.
Last night, he'd run another biometric scan. The hacker had been precise—too precise.
The code embedded into his systems had a fingerprint. Not literal, but digital: a signature sequence buried in the exit loop. It was something only an arrogant genius would leave behind.
A sequence he recognized.
He had used it himself.
Once.
Years ago.
When he was fifteen.
His jaw tightened.
There was no coincidence.
Elsewhere in the manor, Fenghao was seated in the corner of the library with a tablet and a stack of books he'd never actually opened. On screen, he was running a scan through the city's encrypted network — tracing last night's bridge camera footage. The man in the hat now had a name.
Tao Ming. Former mercenary. Human trafficking syndicate. Age: 42. Vanished six years ago.
"Mommy, you've been busy," he muttered, eyes cold. "And people say I have secrets."
He swiped the screen shut just as a shadow fell over his table.
Li Zeyan.
Fenghao looked up slowly, feigning surprise. "Oh. Morning."
Zeyan sat across from him without invitation. His voice was as cool as ever. "You're not just a normal child, are you?"
Fenghao blinked innocently. "I'm very normal. I read, I eat candy, and I hack billionaires before breakfast."
Zeyan didn't flinch. "Why did you break into my system?"
The boy shrugged. "To see if you were worthy."
"Worthy?"
"To be around my mom."
Zeyan raised a brow. "You're protective."
"I'm strategic. She trusts too easily."
There was a pause.
Zeyan studied the boy. Sharp eyes, too intelligent for his age. Too calculated. He wasn't just smart—he was dangerous.
But Zeyan wasn't afraid. He respected power, in any form.
"Are you hers?" Zeyan asked quietly.
Fenghao's face didn't change. "I'm not anyone's unless they earn it."
"Biologically."
The boy's lips twitched. "You tell me. You've seen the DNA logs."
Zeyan didn't answer. But his gaze darkened.
Seventy-eight percent similarity. A perfect mitochondrial match. The signs were undeniable.
This boy was his.
And Yuxi had said nothing.
That afternoon, Yuxi arrived at the Pearl Phoenix Auction House, an elite venue where Imperial City's elite came to flaunt wealth under the guise of charity. She wore a crimson qipao with silver embroidery — the color of power, of rebirth.
But beneath her confident façade, her mind churned.
Tao Ming.
His reappearance meant something bigger was coming. He wasn't a lone wolf. If he'd resurfaced, so would others from the syndicate she helped dismantle. She had to erase him before her cover — and her son's identity — were exposed.
She hadn't told Zeyan yet.
And more dangerously… she hadn't told Fenghao either.
Inside the auction house, cameras clicked rapidly. Guests turned as she entered, stunned by her striking presence.
At her side, the auction host greeted her with reverence. "Madam Li, welcome. Everyone is dying to meet the woman who stunned at the charity gala."
"I'm just here to make a donation," she replied, smiling coolly.
Behind her, whispers fluttered.
"Wasn't she Jiang Renshu's fiancée?"
"Didn't she die?"
"Maybe it's plastic surgery. She looks too perfect."
"She looks like Feng Lixue... only more elegant."
Yuxi's smile never wavered.
Let them whisper.
Let the ashes stir.
The phoenix was just starting to rise.
An hour into the event, she was seated in a VIP box with Li Zeyan beside her. Below, a jade pendant in the shape of a dragon was being auctioned.
Zeyan leaned toward her. "You're avoiding me."
"I've been preparing for tonight."
"And for Tao Ming?"
She stilled.
"I know," he said simply.
She turned to him, eyes sharp. "You had me followed?"
"I had you protected. There's a difference."
Silence.
Then: "Why didn't you tell me about the boy?"
Yuxi met his eyes without flinching. "Because I didn't know he was yours."
Zeyan didn't speak.
"I found out after I returned. I was going to tell you, but not like this. Not when we're still figuring out if we're allies or enemies."
"You lied."
"I survived."
He looked at her with something unreadable. "So what now?"
She breathed slowly. "You want custody?"
He shook his head. "I want answers. And protection—for him."
"I'll protect him with my life."
"I believe you. But I can protect him with my resources."
Their eyes locked.
Somewhere between a truce and a threat.
Just then, the auctioneer tapped the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a surprise final item today. An exclusive painting donated anonymously."
A screen rolled down behind him.
The lights dimmed.
And onto the screen flashed a painting.
But not just any painting.
It was a portrait—clearly painted from a photograph.
The subject?
Feng Yuxi.
But not as she was now.
It was her, bruised, bleeding, in torn clothing, shackled in a dark room.
A photo no one should've had.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Yuxi stood up in horror.
Zeyan grabbed her arm. "What is this?!"
Her lips parted, but no words came.
The host stammered. "W-We received this as a sealed donation. We didn't—"
Zeyan had already stood, fury radiating from him. "Shut it down. Now."
Security swarmed the stage. The screen flickered and went black.
But the damage had been done.
Yuxi could feel the eyes.
The questions.
The suspicions.
A familiar voice from the crowd called mockingly, "What happened, Madam Li? Lose your way to the red-light district?"
The laughter that followed was cruel.
But what none of them saw was the flash of emotion in Yuxi's eyes.
Not shame.
Not fear.
Rage.
At the same time, in a private server room, Fenghao's fingers danced furiously across his screen. His systems had detected the image upload to the auction house twenty minutes before the presentation. He'd tried to block it—but someone had used a quantum-key split feed.
He'd been outplayed.
For now.
As he decrypted the trail, a new face appeared.
Not Tao Ming.
Someone else.
Younger.
Familiar.
His eyes narrowed.
"Feng Lixue."