'Why is this slave here?' Qing Yue thought to herself.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
She couldn't understand how someone of such low status had gotten in.
Yet, despite the disbelief curling around Qing Yue's thoughts, there was a flicker of something else—an odd sensation that prickled at her heart.
Hopefulness?
Relief?
The emotions tangled within her were bewildering, and she was quick to shove them aside.
Her gaze shifted to Hei Long.
Naturally, Qing Yue expected anger to twist his features—his sharp eyes narrowing with contempt, his voice booming with demands for the slave to be dragged out and punished.
Yet, to her astonishment, his expression held not a trace of anger.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, subtle yet unmistakably genuine.
It was as if the presence of the so-called slave was neither an offense nor an inconvenience but something entirely different—welcomed, even.
Qing Yue blinked, her mind scrambling for an explanation.
'Why is he not angry?' The question pulsed through her thoughts, refusing to be dismissed.
Hei Long, keenly aware of the heroine's scrutiny, did not shy away.
For a brief moment, the façade he wore cracked.
However—
He recovered it.
'I must thank the protagonist for being such a well-placed chess piece,' Hei Long mused inwardly.
He understood that Qing Yue's confusion was but the first of many steps in unraveling the image she held of him.
He wanted her to question, to doubt.
It wasn't long before someone spoke up.
"How did you get in here, boy?" Hei Zhòu's voice boomed, like a thunderclap.
The very walls seemed to tremble under the weight.
Hei Zhòu's eyes, sharp and unyielding, bore into the uninvited guest.
He wasn't pleased at all.
After all, the entire estate was fortified with a defensive formation— Which he made personally.
For decades, Hei Zhòu had poured his Qi into its construction.
Its impenetrability was not a matter of pride, but fact.
Yet here stood a boy, barely reaching the Initial Stage of the Qi Realm—the lowest rank in cultivation—smirking as if he was better.
Lin Fan puffed up his chest, a smug grin stretching across his face.
"Defense formation? What are you even talking about?" His voice dripped with mockery.
Hei Zhòu's fists clenched at his sides, veins pulsing at his temples.
He felt a surge of rage so fierce he nearly spat out blood.
The audacity left him speechless, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief.
Before Hei Zhòu could find the words to respond, another voice appeared.
"I apologize for such rudeness," the Patriarch of the Qing family, Qing Wang spoke up.
His robe fluttered as he moved, his gaze icy.
"I had no idea how one of our slaves managed to slip in here… This one was scheduled to be sent to the mines tomorrow."
Qing Wang's eyes narrowed.
"But it seems I must personally see to it that it happens sooner."
"Slave," Qing Wang continued, his voice as sharp as the crack of a whip:
"If you know what's best for you, bow your head and apologize to the Young Master of the Hei family for interrupting his wedding, and then—"
"Why should I?" Lin Fan's voice sliced through the air.
His eyes glinted with fierce determination as he stepped forward, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd.
"He's nothing without his backing! He doesn't deserve to be with the Young Miss! I deserve to be with her!"
The silence that followed was suffocating…
Hei Long, who had been simply watching, felt laughter bubbling up his throat.
'Is he serious?'
He turned slightly, masking his amusement with a casual flick of his hand.
His lips twitched at the corners of his mouth.
'This is better than I imagined,' Hei Long mused.
Qing Yue, who moments ago had felt a surge of relief at the slave's arrival, now found her expression darkening.
Her fingers curled around the delicate silk of her dress, her heart heavy with disappointment.
'So he's just another man after me…' Qing Yue thought bitterly, her gaze dropping.
She had hoped that his interruption would be something more, something genuine.
Yet, here the slave was, another lustful fool.
'Am I nothing but a prize to be fought over?' Qing Yue wondered, the weight of her reality settling back onto her shoulders.
The light that had sparked in her eyes flickered and dimmed, replaced by the hollow acceptance she had grown accustomed to.
'Now I can start…' Hei Long's eyes flashed with coldness as he walked forward.
All eyes turned to him.
Lin Fan's grin only grew wider, his arms spreading out to either side in an almost theatrical display of confidence.
"What? You want me to repeat myself?" He sneered:
"You. Don't. Deserve. To. Be. With. The. Young Miss—"
Lin Fan stopped mid-sentence and asked, "What are you doing?"
Hei Long didn't respond…
Instead…
The crackle of Qi sparked through the air, sudden and violent.
Lightning—pure, blinding, and searing—coiled around Hei Long's clenched fist, illuminating the area in flashes of electric blue.
In that very moment…
Hei Long's fist struck Lin Fan square in the nose with a force that seemed to shatter the very air around them.
A sickening crunch echoed, followed by a spray of crimson.
Lin Fan's body hurtled backward, limbs flailing helplessly as he was launched backward like a ragdoll.
The momentum carried him straight into the far wall, stone and mortar cracking from the impact.
Dust billowed out in a thick cloud, swallowing his body entirely.
'Now to put on an act…' Hei Long's eyes glimmered with barely-contained amusement.
Clearing his throat, he raised his voice, letting it resonate with righteous fury.
"How dare you speak of Qing Yue as if she were some kind of prize! She is her own person! No man—no matter his status or his arrogance—has the right to restrict her freedom!"
Hei Long then turned toward Qing Yue:
" I, as her husband, will not allow others to try and minimize her worth. Never."
"…" Qing Yue stood motionless, her hand drifting unconsciously to her chest.
Her heart hammered beneath her fingertips, and her eyes grew wide.
His words repeated in her mind, wrapping around her like threads of silk.
'Her own person... No man can restrict her freedom…'
Qing Yue's breath caught, and for a moment, the walls of confinement she had built around her heart cracked, just slightly.
'It seems he's not who people say he is…'
A warmth spread through her chest, blooming like a flower in spring.
Just then—
The system's voice sounded in Hei Long's mind:
[Ding! Qing Yue's Love Meter has changed: Hatred → Admiration]
Hei Long's expression barely shifted, but his eyes flickered with satisfaction.