The Yangtian League wasn't a formal organization—more a ragtag crew held together by Lei Zhengyang's magnetic pull. In the capital, every major clan's young scions attracted hangers-on: kids of local officials or provincial bigwigs, all clawing for a foothold through layers of connections. Like Li Yuanfeng and Xiao Dasheng, they sought a powerful backer, but most lacked the cunning to reach Zhengyang's inner circle.
These followers came from big names, but their character varied wildly. With Zhengyang's own transformation, his orbit had to evolve too. His first target was the Yangtian League. He'd tolerate no one tarnishing his name with petty schemes or lowlife antics. He aimed to sift out the truly capable, forging them into a force loyal to him.
Li Yuanfeng and Xiao Dasheng got the message, splitting off to execute his orders with zeal.
The next morning, Zhengyang called Ye Qingcheng, arranging to meet at Tsinghua's gate. He didn't wait long before her sports car screeched up. Before the door even opened, she snapped, "Lei Zhengyang, what do you want? I told you—no calls, no meetings unless it's urgent."
Zhengyang mentally cursed. He had zero interest in her sour attitude but needed her help. "Chill, I'm not here to flirt. This is business."
Qingcheng blinked. Business? This guy? "Fine, spill it. Since you played hero yesterday, I'll help—if I can." His serious tone irked her. Asking for a favor should come with humility, not this cocky swagger. Did he think she owed him?
"You've been at Tsinghua a while," he said. "Know any decent houses nearby? Price doesn't matter—just needs to be safe and comfortable."
Qingcheng cut him off, gaping. "Are you nuts? Your family's mansion is close—why rent here? Unless…" Her eyes narrowed. "You're planning something shady, aren't you? Sorry, I don't help with that." Fury surged. A guy like Zhengyang renting a place screamed trouble—probably a love nest for mistresses, banned by his strict grandfather. She'd pegged him: no good.
Zhengyang hadn't expected this outburst. It was just a house—did she have to go nuclear? He wasn't scheming anything sordid. "Forget it, my bad. Go back to your beauty sleep. I'll find the place myself." Rolling his eyes, he turned away, baffled by her overreaction. Women's minds were a mystery, and this one was paranoid.
"You're still looking?" she called, indignant. "No way—I'm sticking with you. You're not pulling anything sleazy and dragging Teacher's name through the mud. I forbid it!"
Forbid your head, Zhengyang thought, storming off to find a real estate agent. He vowed never to deal with this woman again—too damn annoying. But Qingcheng, undeterred, parked her car and trailed him, practically playing spy.
"What kind of place do you want?" she asked. "Really just for you?"
"These houses aren't cheap, you know. Safe and comfy ones are rare. Need my help?"
Zhengyang sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated. Were all women this persistent? At the agency, he laid out his needs: close to Tsinghua, safe, comfortable, price no object. The options disappointed—too far, too cramped, some with shared bathrooms. He rejected them outright. This was for women to live in; it needed privacy, quiet, and security.
As he left the agency, Qingcheng sidled up. "You're serious about this, huh? Your conditions are tough. But if you've got cash, why not buy? Tsinghua Gardens, right next to campus, has luxury three-story villas. I hear they're twenty to thirty million, though. Interested?"
Zhengyang shot her a look. Why didn't you lead with that? Wasted his morning. Qingcheng, a Tsinghua veteran, knew the area like her own backyard. She led him to Tsinghua Gardens, an exclusive development with high-end villas. Priced steep due to the "Tsinghua" name, many units remained unsold, now open to outsiders at a premium.
Zhengyang liked the vibe instantly—serene, green, with round-the-clock security. Without touring, he picked a villa from the site map: 120 square meters, with front and back yards fenced by iron grilles, totaling over 200 square meters. In the capital's sixth ring, villas ran eighteen to twenty-one million, but here, it was twenty-five million. One perk: fully furnished, move-in ready after a down payment.
Zhengyang was strapped for cash, but Leng Youran had returned a card from Gao Shunli—two hundred million, no strings attached. Why not spend it? At the payment terminal, he transferred twenty-five million, no installments, snagging the keys outright. Qingcheng's jaw dropped. Her family wasn't poor, but her savings, scraped together over years, were a fraction of that. Zhengyang spent millions without flinching—classic Lei family, loaded and brash.
The two-and-a-half-story villa had a rooftop terrace, sleek decor, and a cozy vibe. The yard's greenery, dotted with blooming chrysanthemums, scented the air. A stone table, two stools, and a pebble path gave it a natural charm. Qingcheng, buzzing with excitement, darted inside uninvited. Zhengyang lounged on a stool, waiting. He'd brought her because women loved this stuff.
"It's amazing!" she called, bounding down. "Appliances included, just needs a computer. The wiring's set. Perfect for settling down. You living here? I might swing by for dinner sometime."
Zhengyang shook his head. "Not for me. It's for two women."
Her giddy grin froze. "Knew it. You rich brats—always keeping mistresses. Two at once? Shameless." With a huff, she stormed out, not looking back. Zhengyang didn't bother stopping her. Their business was done, and they'd never see eye to eye. Why chase trouble?
Qingcheng fumed. She'd helped him find a house, and it was for that? Unacceptable. Whipping out her phone, she dialed. "Auntie, it's Qingcheng. I've got something to tell you…" She was tattling to Xu Miaoli.
Zhengyang got home early, heading to his room, when Xu Miaoli burst in. "Zhengyang, come here. Mom needs to talk."
He turned, seeing her flustered rush. "Mom, what's wrong? You look panicked—something happen at home?"
Xu Miaoli scolded, "Panicked? Because of you, you rascal! Tell me, who's the new girl you're sweet on? Must be serious—you bought a house to hide her!"
Zhengyang gaped. He'd just bought the place, and Mom already knew? Was she having him tailed? "Don't deny it," she pressed. "Qingcheng told me everything. What am I supposed to say? I was singing your praises to her mom yesterday, hoping you two could hit it off. If you're chasing women, fine, but letting Qingcheng find out? She'll never date you now!"
Zhengyang groaned, head spinning. Mom was trying to pair him with Qingcheng? That ice queen who despised him? Talk about a lost cause. "Mom, you've got it wrong. I'm in love, but it's not her. I'll bring her to meet you soon—you'll love her."
Xu Miaoli frowned. "Zhengyang, you're serious? This isn't another fling?"
"Mom, I swear, it's real. Xueling's worth my love, worth my protection."