A drip-drip chimed from Lei Zhengyang's phone—not a call, but a text. He opened it to find Liu Weiwei's message: "I heard all of Yingfei's tales, and wow, Zhengyang, past you was a jerk. But I'm into the you of now. Show up tomorrow morning with eleven roses, and I'll forgive every sin."
Zhengyang chuckled softly, and that night, he drifted into sweet dreams.
The next morning, he bounded downstairs, humming a tune, his vibe radiant. But he froze—every Lei family member, from Old Master Lei to the uncles, stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Zhengyang, find a wallet stuffed with cash or what? Why so chipper?" Lei Qiuping teased, restraining his usual crude catchphrase in the old man's presence.
Xu Miaoli grinned. "Zhengyang, sealed the deal, huh?" Her fondness for Liu Weiwei was instant—love for her son spilling over. Weiwei was his first "normal" girlfriend, not some gold-digging floozy or nightclub siren, but a genuine woman. For Zhengyang, her hopes were simple: ordinary was perfect.
Before Zhengyang could reply, Old Master Lei beckoned. "Zhengyang, over here. I've got questions." The patriarch sat at the head, Xu Miaoli's usual spot yielded to Zhengyang. As he settled, his third and fourth uncles' stares prompted a smirk. "What, did I get handsomer overnight?"
"Pfft!" The uncles nearly flipped him off for his shamelessness.
Old Master Lei, unfazed by the family's playful vibe, turned serious. "Zhengyang, your uncles say you know Hua Yunyue?"
Zhengyang nodded. "Yeah, met her two days ago. Third Uncle and Aunt set it up, didn't they?"
The old man shot him a sharp look. "I mean before that. Have you two crossed paths? How else did her stuff end up with you?" Normally, such trivia wouldn't concern a man of his stature, but Hua Yunyue wasn't trivial. Her father, the Military Blade, was the nation's mightiest lone warrior—no one dismissed him lightly.
Zhengyang knew the suspicion but had no answer. He shook his head. "Grandpa, Hua Yunyue's out of my league. Not to hype her up or sell myself short, but in her eyes, I'm not even fit to polish her boots."
Lei Qiuping scowled, unconvinced. The other day's events were too bizarre, and this vague answer didn't cut it. Something about Zhengyang and Hua Yunyue's brief clash—explosive enough to spark a storm—hinted at a deeper connection. "Zhengyang, don't play coy. How'd you end up with her bracelet?"
Zhengyang grinned. "Almost forgot, Third Uncle. A few months back, when I returned to the capital, I found it while strolling the streets. Who'd have thought it was hers? Should've kept it as a souvenir."
Picked it up off the street? The room reeled. What were the odds—Hua Yunyue's lost trinket, snagged by Zhengyang of all people? Lei Dongping, impatient, jumped in. "Right, that question you asked her at the end—what was it?"
"I asked—" Zhengyang paused, smirking. "Why do I need to spill? Everyone says women gossip, but you, a grown man, digging like this? Thinking of a sex change or what?" The question had the whole family buzzing—even Old Master Lei, after hearing the uncles' account, was hooked. That his least promising grandson had some tie to Hua Yunyue? Shocking.
Dongping choked, fuming. Just a question, and he drags in surgery? Lei Chunping, the father, barked, "Cut the nonsense! Answer when we ask, you little punk. What's a kid like you hiding from us adults?"
Zhengyang stuffed a bun in his mouth, gulped some porridge, and shrugged. "Sorry, I'm dodging that one. Can't feed your curiosity. Any more questions? I'm out—got a hot date today, so don't bug me." He stood, ready to bolt.
The family gaped, speechless, but Xu Miaoli beamed. "This boy's finally settling down, chasing a proper girl. Look at him, all spruced up—handsome as ever. That's my son!" Lei Chunping bristled—As if you made him alone. No sowing, no reaping!—but kept his gentlemanly cool, swallowing the crude retort.
"Dad!" Qiuping protested, desperate for answers. Old Master Lei, calmly savoring his meal, seemed unbothered, just like always. But inside, his mind churned. Lifting his head, he said, "If Zhengyang won't talk, drop it. Young people have their world. Qiuping, why not ask through Xiaomin?"
"Tried that," Qiuping grumbled. "Hua Yunyue clammed up. Said if Xiaomin asks again, she'll ghost her for a month. Xiaomin's too scared to push."
The old man's brow furrowed. Clearly, something linked those two, but Zhengyang's records showed no trace of Hua Yunyue. Xu Miaoli, wiping her mouth, chimed in. "You men, fretting over nothing. I'll bet I know what Zhengyang asked."
All eyes turned to her. Lei Chunping urged, "Spill it—what'd he say?"
"You're all dense," she teased. "What makes a woman furious and flustered? Not state secrets—something embarrassing, unspeakable. My guess? He teased her, asked if she's a virgin."
Cough! Old Master Lei nearly choked on his porridge. Qiuping and Dongping blanched. "Hua Yunyue's no small fry," Qiuping warned. "Zhengyang pulling that could stir trouble."
"No need to panic," Xu Miaoli said, waving it off. "It's just a hunch. If he really teased her, we'd have angry visitors by now. No one's come, so she's keeping it quiet—maybe even hiding a crush on him, her heart stirring."
The uncles bolted, unable to stomach more. Your son's no saint every woman swoons for! But since it was their sister-in-law, they let it slide. Even if every woman turned lovesick, Hua Yunyue wouldn't. Old Master Lei stood, issuing a cryptic order. "Young folks handle their own messes. From today, Zhengyang's affairs are his own—I'll oversee them personally. No one else meddles, got it?" He left, leaving the family puzzled.
At Tianding Tower, 9 a.m. sharp, the headquarters hummed with activity as white-collar workers dove into another bustling day. Liu Weiwei, from the moment she clocked in, was a bundle of nerves, her eyes flicking to her watch. She'd sent the text, baring her heart, but dread gnawed at her. Rejection now might shatter her, leaving her unsure if she could face the rest of her life.
She'd always seen herself as tough, but today, she realized her fragility. The softest part of her, long buried, had opened for a man—the first time she'd unlocked her heart's door. "Weiwei, you okay?" Song Yingfei walked in, holding a file, concern in her voice. Though secretaries handled such tasks, their offices were close, and she'd wanted to check on Weiwei, say good morning. But Weiwei's pallor worried her.
Weiwei had dolled up, her makeup flawless and alluring, but anxiety dulled her glow. Seeing Song Yingfei, she forced a smile. "It's you, Yingfei. I'm fine, don't worry—"
"Save it," Song Yingfei cut in. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Yesterday's talk had swayed her, not Weiwei. It was absurd—watching her dear friend march toward a wolf's den, and she was supposed to cheer? The world's cruelest joke.