Mr. Tycoon's Daring Wife

The past.

CRASH!

"Where is she?" A boy seethed. His rigid eyes were filled with acrimony and disgust for the shaking servants in front of him. He had finally returned home from his abrupt study abroad session. The first thing he did was sought after Zhao Lifei. He did not expect the message that followed after his request.

Yang Feng had trashed one of his mother’s ancient European vases. It was worth a mansion or two. The cracked porcelain littered the ground; accompanying it was other pieces of furniture, decorative pieces, and paintings.

The damage he accumulated should’ve earned him a solid beating. No one had the guts to discipline the Young Master himself. If they wanted their limbs intact and family members alive, the servants were required to keep their mouths shut.

When none of the quivering maids with tucked heads spoke up, he stormed to his dagger collection. He picked out the sharpest one, twirling it in his hand.

"Young Master, please calm down—"

WHOOSH!

The knife whirled by one of the maids, a terrified shriek filled the room. It nicked the collar of her dress, cutting straight through the fabric. It sliced the side of her neck, causing blood to dribble out.

"This is me being calm." He warned her, turning to the drawer and taking out the unassembled gun with the parts neatly organized. In less than thirty seconds, the gun was assembled. He swiveled around and pointed the gun straight towards their heads, standing from a distance, "Now, repeat what you just said."

The maid’s knees gave out before him, collapsing onto the floor when she saw the bloodlust in his inhumanely dark, soulless eyes. She felt like a serpent caught in the claws of a dragon who could squeeze her to death without trying.

Ever since she was a child, she was trained to be a skilled fighter that could protect the members of this household. She had felt so intimate until today. Staring into the black abyss of his eyes, she held her breath. He was not going to simply kill her. He was going to kill everyone she knew. She could see it. Her Young Master was no longer a child, no, his eyes did not hold such innocence.

She swallowed hard. Her lips were shaking when she repeated her words, "Young Miss Zhao is refusing to step foot in this house—"

Click.

Yang Feng unlocked the trigger of his gun.

She panicked. "You have to believe me! Young Master, what benefit would I get out of this by lying to you?" The maid cried out, her voice erratic and her eyes wide, bristling with unshed tears. She was shaking harder than a leaf on a windy night.

BANG!

Yang Feng’s finger went through the trigger hole and he would’ve shot the maid blank in the head if it was not for the door that slammed open.

"ENOUGH." Yang Qianlu stormed into the room with a ferocious voice. He had never raised his voice to any of his children except for his eldest. It was not because Yang Feng drove him insane. He wanted to toughen the future man of the house.

Yang Qianlu’s attempts were futile. His oldest son was already as tough as a rock. The thundering voice did not affect his son whose eyes did not lift from the defeated maid. "She speaks the truth. Zhao Lifei has denied your audience."

"Lies." Yang Feng growled, ready to turn the gun to his father for the sake of the girl who stole his heart and was now not returning it.

Buried deep within his heart, Yang Qianlu felt remorse. He regretted allowing his wife to send his son off to Yang Mujian.

In hopes of appeasing the father-in-law who would never accept her, Fan Jielan sacrificed and offered her eldest son. In the process of seeking approval, she lost her firstborn son, and it was the gravest mistake she would ever make.

Yang Feng felt nothing for his family. Perhaps there was slight adoration for his younger sister whose bubbly behavior resembled his Xiao Lili, but that was about it. The only thing keeping him sane was the image of Xiao Lili’s chubby cheeks, the small giggles she made when she attempted to catch up to his winding legs, and the foolish, bright, and gigantic smile on her face when he finally looked her way.

"She has a fiance now. She has no purpose for you." Yang Qianlu was brave enough to believe his son would not shoot him.

Yang Qianlu spoiled his son too much. He did not care if his son shot the messenger and killed every servant in this household on his rampage of a temper tantrum. He did, however, care for the priceless antiques in the house and the hell his wife would give him when she returns home from her shopping.

’Damn brat.’ He grumbled inside of his head.

Half the things Yang Feng ruined belonged to his mother. It was killing two birds with one stone. His mother could never bring herself to discipline him and would turn her anger towards her husband.

"No purpose for me?" Yang Feng echoed his father’s words with a laugh.

Yang Qianlu could feel the hairs rise on his arms. That laugh, how could it be so lifeless and bleak? Was he truly an adolescent?! Yang Feng did not behave like one. His eyes mirrored a black hole, swallowing the light, but never absorbing it, leaving it an empty nothingness.

Yang Qianlu remembered the only time he saw a hint of happiness on his son’s face was in the presence of Zhao Lifei. It was an unprecedented sight rarer than a blue moon.

"Don’t make me laugh." Yang Feng scoffed. "I’m the only purpose she has." He deadpanned but stiffened when he saw his grandfather behind Yang Qianlu

Yang Mujian stealthily entered the room without anyone’s detection. Only his grandson noticed him, his son did not.

Yang Mujian spoke up, "You humor yourself. She is still a little girl. Two years is a very long time for a child. She doesn’t care for you anymore. She has moved on."

Yang Qianlu jumped when he heard his father’s voice. He bowed his head to show respect.

Yang Mujian ignored his son and kept his eyes on the tantrum-throwing child in front of him. Though, it was weird to call Yang Feng a child since he was a lot taller than the average boy his age. "Zhao Moyao’s granddaughter has found another boy to chase after. She is promised to another." His fingers ticked when Yang Feng’s fingers curled into fists.

Yang Mujian added on, "Do not go around stealing someone else’s future wife." It sounded like a command instead of a suggestion.

Yang Feng narrowed his eyes. "Who is it?" He sounded very calm, like a young man enjoying a leisure walk under the sunlight.

Yang Qianlu let out a sigh of relief too early for Yang Mujian’s liking.

Yang Mujian knew better than anyone else in this room that Yang Feng was anything but calm. Yang Feng was the tranquil and slow tides before the storm. "Zheng Tianyi, the heir of Zheng Corporation."

Yang Feng grabbed the ammunition from the drawer and loaded the bullets. "Zheng Hechong will need a new heir once I am done with this Zheng Tianyi." He didn’t bother with honorifics when it came to Zheng Tianyi’s father. He rarely used hierarchical titles for anyone.

Yang Mujian humored himself by being proud of his grandson at the wrong moment. At least this brat was good at getting what he wants. "Indeed, Zheng Tianyi is no match for you, but that Xiao Lili of yours is exquisitely fond of him."

Yang Feng stiffened, his eyes turning frostier.

"If you hurt him, Zhao Moyao’s granddaughter would resent you for the rest of her life. And you don’t want that, do you?" Yang Mujian flicked his wrist and Jing Caoxiao came forward with a tablet. He nodded his head to his grandson and Jing Caoxiao understood the message.

Jing Caoxiao emotionlessly trudged to the Young Master and presented him the video, pressing play for him. A childish, whiney voice sliced through the thick and unbreathable atmosphere.

Xiao Lili.

Yang Feng knew who it was before his eyes even laid on the video.

"Tiantian ge-ge [1], wait for me!" Zhao Lifei passed by the hidden camera. She was racing down the hallways for a boy who was walking too fast for her. She was out of breath, panting, and on the verge of falling onto the floor, but the boy did not care.

Yang Feng’s face darkened instantaneously. He knew Zhao Lifei had tiny legs that could not run far, so even if he was teasing her by leaving, he always slowed down his pace so that she would not overexert her body like this.

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