Chapter 4#

A father shouldn’t be afraid of his son, nor should he be controlled by him.

Before Lu Yinbing turned fifteen, Lu Hui believed this wholeheartedly.

Later he compromised, and had no choice but to compromise. He even developed a deep fear of this son, because Lu Yinbing was a psychopath.

A psychopath with zero humanistic consideration in thought or action, whose manner and conduct carried the lingering spirit of banditry.

The Lu family’s ancestors several generations back were bandits who came down from the mountain to live honest lives. After generations of gene refinement, by the time it reached Lu Hui, the family had become a refined and cultured merchant clan, their corporate empire spanning biopharmaceuticals, machinery manufacturing, and construction, long established as one of the wealthiest and most prestigious aristocratic families in the capital.

In his early years, Lu Hui had arranged a political marriage with the Su family, and Lu Yinbing was the child born of their eager expectations.

They privately believed this child would combine the strengths of both families, growing into a tall, handsome, gentle and cultured, composed and shrewd entrepreneur or politician.

Quite the contrary — Lu Yinbing gave them a spectacular display of atavism in the history of human evolution, surpassing even their wildest imagination.

He was indeed intelligent, handsome, tall, gifted — a one-in-a-million Enigma, the center of attention and the object of admiration wherever he went. But alongside these strengths existed an unignorable flaw — an extremely self-absorbed and arrogant personality.

A complete reversal of the Lu family’s teachings of gentleness, goodness, propriety, frugality, and deference.

Other families might envy Lu Hui for having a son who could deftly manage billions in his mid-teens, but if it were actually their own, they wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Before his mother Su Miao divorced his father, her sole condition was that she didn’t want custody of Lu Yinbing. Lu Hui signed his name with great regret.

Any other person might have refused custody out of resentment over a cheating spouse, or out of concern that the child would lose inheritance rights after leaving the Lu family.

But the child left behind was Lu Yinbing, and everything was a different matter entirely.

Su Miao left, and from that point on, absolutely no one could control Lu Yinbing.

The gleefully triumphant mistress moved in with her son, planning to seize the family fortune with great ambition, only to discover that the estate distribution had been set in stone before the old patriarch drew his last breath.

At that time, Lu Yinbing had not yet revealed his wicked nature. Out of love for his grandson and trust in the Su family’s genes, the old man allocated sixty percent of the estate to Lu Yinbing and forty percent to Lu Hui, then promptly kicked the bucket. The majority of the Lu Group’s shares were simply waiting for Lu Yinbing to come of age before being handed over.

So the ground they walked on was Lu Yinbing’s, and the sky above their heads was Lu Yinbing’s.

Lu Hui was away from home most of the time, which meant the mother and son had to face a sharp-tongued, vicious, preternaturally precocious demon child. Within three days of moving in, their bedroom had caught fire nine times.

After all these years, everyone in the Lu household — top to bottom — had been thoroughly trained by Lu Yinbing. To say nothing of his stepmother, who had to force a smile and tuck her tail between her legs in his presence; his half-brother’s only difference from a eunuch was that he hadn’t been physically emasculated.

In fact, when they first heard of Lu Yinbing’s death, everyone breathed a sigh of relief — Lu Hui included. He could finally be free of this son’s torment.

It turned out to be nothing more than a prank. He suspected Lu Yinbing had done it deliberately, manipulating their emotions in the palm of his hand for his own amusement.

What could they do about it? Endure it, of course. It wasn’t as if they could poison Lu Yinbing, could they?

Setting aside whether they could actually pull it off — if Lu Yinbing found out, their lives would be worse than death.

——

Lu Yinbing propped himself up on his elbow, his slender fingers toying with the remote, skipping back to the previous footage. He lifted his chin slightly and asked, “Who is this?”

His younger brother Lu Xingyun, wearing ice-chilled gloves, was peeling lychees for him — swapping to a fresh pair of gloves every three lychees to ensure the fruit’s texture remained icy and crisp. Being called out so suddenly, cold sweat broke out across his back, no less terrifying than being summoned by Empress Dowager Cixi was for Li Lianying.

The person on screen was thin and frail, holding up a large umbrella. If Lu Yinbing hadn’t pointed him out, he never would have noticed.

“They don’t seem to be among the guests we invited this time. I’ll have the housekeeper check the security footage from that day. Brother, is something wrong?”

Lu Yinbing said nothing — clearly unwilling to engage. Lu Xingyun wisely changed the subject. “Brother, Gao Yuyang and the others have organized a welcome-back banquet. It’s all the friends you were close with before you left. They asked me to see if you’d be willing to grace them with your presence.”

He rattled off the names like reciting a menu.

“Friends?” Lu Xinbing couldn’t recall a single one.

Lu Xingyun realized his wording had been inappropriate and corrected himself. “The lapdogs who used to circle around you before you left.”

Now that Lu Yinbing had a recollection.

“Gao Yuyang and the others have gradually taken over their family businesses over the past few years. Oh, that Sheng Lin — Brother, do you remember him? He got married right after graduating from university. It’s quite hard to imagine, honestly. Back then, he followed you around — one glance from you to the east and he wouldn’t dare go west. Everyone said he liked you. But the Sheng family never held a wedding banquet, and Sheng Lin never brings his wife out in public. I have no idea who his wife actually is.”

Lu Xingyun handed over photos one by one. When they got to Sheng Lin, Lu Yinbing glanced at it dismissively. “A guy like him — how good could his wife possibly be?”

“So you’re not going?”

“Going, of course I’m going. If I don’t, I’m afraid they’ll forget me.”

Lu Lianying hastily went to prepare the car. His mother, Lin Shuangwu, glared at him fiercely and texted him privately: [Have you got no spine? You’re both sons of the Lu family. The moment he comes back, you serve him like a servant. You’ve lost every ounce of face I have.]

[How about this, Mom — you go meet him first and don’t smile at him. Then I won’t rush around serving him, how about that? Neither of us gets to judge the other.]

Lin Shuangwu indeed fell silent after that.

——

The venue was one of Gao Yuyang’s private clubs. By the time Lu Yinbing arrived, the entire fourth floor had been cleared out, with only one room reserved specifically to serve them.

The moment he arrived, a crowd of impeccably dressed men rose in unison — most of them familiar faces.

Enigmas possessed an innate pheromone suppression over Alphas. Threads of saffron’s sharp, piercing medicinal fragrance pressed down on the Alphas in the room, and the tremor from the pheromones dredged up the fear of being dominated from their school days.

Modern medicine had already come close to perfectly resolving the impact of A/O pheromone surges on society and individuals. Outside of heats and rut cycles, normal Alphas and Omegas could live just as they had before their secondary gender manifested.

But Enigma was a secondary differentiation tier built on top of Alpha, and no inhibitor could yet fully block their pheromones.

Fortunately, the Enigma population base was extremely small, so it didn’t cause widespread panic.

Gao Yuyang, the social butterfly of the group, was so suppressed by the pheromones that his face had gone pale, yet he still smiled and rose to greet them.

Lu Yinbing was taller than when he’d left. They had to look up at him. The Enigma’s innate advantage gave him a higher muscle ratio, making him appear even more lean and statuesque.

The Lu family’s sharp, rugged features and the Su family’s gentle softness blended seamlessly on his face — the slightly upswept eyes, the thick, long lashes, the jet-black dense hair, the thin lips that seemed caught between a smile and a sneer. Coldly beautiful and strikingly masculine, carrying a reckless, carelessly provocative air.

From looks to family background to academics to abilities — they’d been thoroughly crushed by Lu Yinbing since childhood. And Lu Yinbing had that sort of self-absorbed personality. How they despised him with frustrated humiliation, yet couldn’t help but orbit around him.

Perhaps people were inherently lowly. The more someone treated them like nothing, the more they scrambled to grovel.

The low table was lined with all manner of premium bottles. An all-over ostrich down carpet covered the floor, dense and soft underfoot. Gao Yuyang called for the bottles to be opened. Several sweet Omegas — both male and female — had been waiting outside and walked in with bright smiles.

“Sheng Lin personally picked all of them. He put tremendous thought into it, specifically to welcome you back.” Gao Yuyang didn’t miss the chance to give Sheng Lin credit. The other Alphas chimed in, urging Lu Yinbing to choose first.

Lu Yinbing looked entirely uninterested. Someone ventured a careful joke: “Young Master Lu has seen plenty of beauties out there in the world. It seems even the top Omegas from Tianzai Water can’t catch your eye.”

Lu Yinbing slowly rose, took a golf club, and swung it casually. His posture didn’t look like he was about to play indoor golf — it looked like he was about to crack open the skulls of everyone around him. Several people instinctively dodged, stumbling a few steps back.

“What are you afraid of?” Lu Yinbing laughed. “You didn’t seem so scared when you were using me as a plaything.”

“How could we? How could we ever say such a thing? Young Master Lu, whatever do you mean? This is a terrible injustice!”

“Bringing in a bunch of Omegas to take advantage of me — you call that something else? Who do they think they are, daring to lay hands on me?”

The group of Omegas visibly stiffened, their expressions souring.

“Never mind them — even just a whiff leaking off your bodies would require compensation for my new lungs.”

The Omegas’ expressions improved.

Sheng Lin and the others’ faces under the dim lighting had all gone sallow as spoiled vegetables.

Enigmas experienced their heats more frequently than Alphas, needed pheromone relief even more acutely, and were far more driven by desire. After all these years, they still couldn’t believe the Young Master Lu had actually maintained such purity and self-restraint.

Back in high school, anyone who accidentally brushed against him — that was a matter of life and death.

Gao Yuyang summarized it roughly as: How dare you insignificant insects lightly touch a god.

In the whole world, Young Master Lu was the most precious. His body was gilded — mortals must not touch it. Even catching a glance was a blessing. Being looked at by Young Master Lu could add ten years to your life.

They had never dared to say this aloud, and honestly it wouldn’t have mattered if they had, because that was precisely how Lu Yinbing saw himself.

Sheng Lin awkwardly paid off the Omegas and sent them away. He personally opened a bottle of Macallan, and after pouring it, he even wiped his own fingerprints off the glass with a velvet cloth before presenting it to Lu Yinbing.

Lu Yinbing finally remembered him. He didn’t take the glass — just weighed the golf club in his hand. “I heard you got married? I suppose I should have given you a gift.”

That hit a nerve. Sheng Lin thought of Man Yu, and a scorching ache flared in his chest. He averted his eyes and stammered, nodding. “Y-yes. I did.”

“Then you’re quite shameless.”

Lu Yinbing wasn’t looking at him. He effortlessly found his angle and swung — straight into the hole.

“Married, and still running around with these people.”

Lu Yinbing’s golf club seemed to have struck Sheng Lin right across the face. He felt a searing sting and hurriedly offered a weak excuse. “It was an arranged marriage.”

“Oh.”

Lu Yinbing’s perfunctory tone landed like another club across his face. Gao Yuyang and the others watched with half-smiles brimming with schadenfreude, making his humiliation all the more acute.

No one had come to this gathering in vain. Lu Yinbing had reminded them all that he was still Lu Yinbing — he wouldn’t develop warm and forgiving virtues just because he’d gotten older.

He hit one ball and had someone retrieve it. He opened a bottle of Louis XIII, took two sips, and demanded a new one. The glass had to be sanitized in front of him. The ice had to be frozen in front of him after undergoing various rounds of sterilization. He didn’t like the whisky’s smoky flavor. He complained it was too diluted if the ice sat in the glass for more than ten minutes. He complained the condensation on the glass made his hands dirty.

The waitstaff had all been kicked out. So the young masters who were normally the ones being served now had to attend to him with barely suppressed resentment — and they couldn’t even touch anything directly with their bare hands. Their aseptic awareness rivaled that of the First Municipal Hospital, and yet they were still criticized for being clumsy.

Zhou Mingchen these years had been walking the route of the “budding elite” of the capital’s social circle, so busy that his sandalwood prayer beads had practically been worked up to his elbows.

Among them, the most silent and the most attentive was Sheng Lin.

No one rebelled. No one thought anything of it. From the very first day they’d met Lu Yinbing, he’d been like this. They were long since accustomed.

Five thousand years of Chinese civilization’s worst personality traits had been distilled and perfected in him.

Cixi herself might not have been as hard to serve. Dong Zhuo himself might not have been as tyrannical. Cao Cao himself might not have been as suspicious.

No wonder the older generation of parents all had their reservations about Lu Yinbing. Lu Hui outshining them was business — but their own sons running off to serve as Lu Yinbing’s servants was another matter entirely.

By the end of the gathering, Lu Yinbing had seemed to enjoy himself immensely, while everyone else looked sallow and drained, with the illusion of having had their life force sucked away. Gao Yungang thought to himself: Lu Yinbing might as well have actually died in the tropical rainforest.

The thing was, if someone suddenly became tyrannical out of nowhere, ordering people around left and right, everyone would think they’d lost their mind. But someone like Lu Yinbing, who maintained domineering arrogance at all times — people simply grew used to it, even understood it. A rare display of kindness from him was treated as a general amnesty.

Much like the principle of setting down the butcher’s blade to achieve enlightenment on the spot.

Lu Yinbing hadn’t come to pick a fight or amuse himself with them out of idleness. They weren’t even as interesting as the monkeys in the rainforest. After four years away, this trip had served its purpose — he’d gotten a general read on the situation.

Through a glimpse, one could see the pattern. From them, he could gauge the shifts in the capital’s business world and the relationships between their families.

The Gao family had become considerably more capable than before he’d left. But a dog with established habits, no matter how strong — like a Tibetan Mastiff — upon hearing the whistle, even if unwilling in its heart, would obediently lie down.

Summer in the capital was capricious. At dusk, the sky had been streaked with crimson clouds. Now rain poured down in curtains. Despite the excellent drainage system, the white marble ground was inevitably slicked with water. Tianzai Water didn’t have an underground parking lot, so the waitstaff held umbrellas for the guests while the drivers brought the cars around.

Xu Lan had said Sheng Lin had definitely drunk too much today and told Man Yu to go pick him up, using the opportunity to cultivate their relationship. Chen Yanning had also given Man Yu a mission — bring Sheng Lin home by any means necessary and keep a close eye on him. Man Yu had gotten the car keys from Sheng Lin’s assistant and had been waiting outside ever since, until they emerged.

The person being surrounded and swarmed in the center should be Lu Yinbing. Man Yu saw him clearly for the first time.

He was extraordinarily tall — you could lock your gaze on him at a glance without even trying. Even dressed casually in just a black trench coat, he was the most eye-catching figure among the crowd of rich young men. How could someone look so vivid, so saturated, as though painted in bold ink strokes?

He saw Lu Yinbing frown ever so slightly, and immediately Sheng Lin took off his jacket, laid it on the ground, and wiped away the water puddle on the floor in front of Lu Yinbing.

Her husband — the man who called her cheap — would use his own coat to wipe the floor for someone else.

Man Yu’s hands fluttered nervously to the too-long bangs hanging over her forehead, blocking her view. She lowered her head, pretending she hadn’t seen it, pretending she didn’t want to see it.

She planned to wait until everyone had left before approaching Sheng Lin.

Sheng Lin definitely wouldn’t want her appearing in front of his friends and the person he admired. He’d be furious again.

Man Yu thought she’d hidden herself well enough. Everyone’s attention was entirely focused on Lu Yinbing — even Sheng Lin hadn’t noticed her.

Lu Yinbing’s gaze swept idly around the room and spotted a scrawny stray cat in the corner, grooming itself in the rain with its paws.

He had seen this cat before. He’d even asked Lu Xingyun to help him find it. It had appeared here and also at his funeral — it must know one of the people present.

The fine drizzle settled on his skin like an itch at the very tip of his heart. Lu Yinbing lifted his chin. “Whose is this? Who are they here for?”

Everyone followed his gesture and looked. Sheng Lin’s jaw clenched violently. He cursed inwardly and said, “They look shifty — definitely not a good person. Nobody knows them. How could we possibly know someone like that? Have security escort them out!”

“If you’d just said two fewer words, I wouldn’t have known you recognize them. Getting so worked up — did your dad have an illegitimate half-brother for you too? Go on. Bring them over.”

Sheng Lin didn’t explain.

Just as Man Yu couldn’t defy Xu Lan and Chen Yanning, Sheng Lin couldn’t defy Lu Yinbing.

This was what Man Yu had promised — that she would absolutely never bother him. He had told her countless times not to appear in public and embarrass him, especially not in front of Lu Yinbing. Yet here she stood, and Lu Yinbing had seen her. Hadn’t he already lost enough face and endured enough humiliation in front of Lu Yinbing?

Man Yu was handing him another weapon right into Lu Yinbing’s hands. With so many people around, everyone would know he’d married a wife like this. How would he ever hold his head up in their circles again?

He could only viciously warn Man Yu not to say anything out of line and brought her over. If Lu Yinbing didn’t press further, he’d muddle through by passing her off as his father’s illegitimate child. Gao Yuyang and the rest had better be smart enough not to expose him. Tomorrow, the day after, the day after that — he would definitely divorce Man Yu.

A drumbeat of unease thudded in Man Yu’s chest. She shook her head repeatedly, her gut telling her this wouldn’t end well.

The people around Sheng Lin already looked down on her. They teased her constantly. Lu Yinbing seemed even worse in temperament than them. Going over there would mean certain humiliation. She might even get beaten.

These people didn’t need reasons to hit someone. As long as they were displeased, they’d strike — and most of the time, they didn’t need to bear any responsibility for it.

Would Lu Yinbing find her displeasing? Probably. The marriage partner of his admirer was hardly a friendly, conversable identity. Lu Yinbing seemed to treat Sheng Lin with imperious condescension — why would he be kind to her? If he didn’t intend to punish her, there’d be no reason to call her over.

Besides, she herself was inherently unlikable.

Man Yu took two or three steps and had already imagined dozens of terrible outcomes. She pleaded with Sheng Lin. “Don’t… don’t… Husband, I — I — I don’t want to — I don’t want to go — I…”

“Stop calling me husband!” Sheng Lin snapped. He gave Man Yu no choice, grabbing her wrist and yanking her stumbling forward in front of everyone.

Man Yu shrank in on herself, nervously clutching the hem of her clothes, her neck practically retracting into her chest.

The room fell quiet for a few seconds, punctuated only by the patter of raindrops against the eaves. Her atrophied gland tingled faintly with discomfort. She caught a trace of saffron’s fragrance — staggeringly high in rank. It had been many years since she could sense anyone’s pheromones.

An unfamiliar pheromone curled around her. This couldn’t be good. In an ABO world, pheromones were typically entangled with conflict, suppression, and mating. The anxious tension Man Yu felt from this pheromone spiked to its absolute limit.

A faint shadow fell over her from above. Someone extended a hand toward her. Instinctively, in a panic, she raised her wrist to block.

She heard Lu Yinbing seem to laugh.

The pain she’d braced for never came. Instead, a warm palm — carrying the faintest callouses — pressed against her face. And then he swept up the hair she’d kept covered for years.

Lu Yinbing’s palm was broad enough to cover Man Yu’s entire face, and naturally he brushed every last strand of hair back without leaving a single one down. The fine rain and biting wind whipped against her suddenly exposed face, startlingly cool, in sharp contrast to the scalding heat of his hand.

Without her hair as a barrier, Man Yu was suddenly on full display. It was deeply uncomfortable, but she didn’t dare recoil, for fear of displeasing him.

After all, he hadn’t hit her, had he?

The room grew even quieter. Sheng Lin’s expression twisted almost imperceptibly.

Man Yu could faintly sense the pheromone thickening further, and her nervousness escalated.

“Not a shred of manners. Don’t you know how to apologize?”

Lu Yinbing struck without warning. Man Yu startled and blurted, “S-sorry…”

“I’m sorry—”

Only when Sheng Lin spoke up after her did Man Yu realize Lu Yinbing’s words hadn’t been directed at her. Her eyes went wide with astonishment.

In the frame of Lu Yinbing’s palm, her face appeared even smaller — small enough to be held in one hand. Her expression was timid and dazed, her eye sockets glistening with moisture, her dry lips bitten into a vivid red by her own teeth.

Startled by the sudden widening of her eyes, she met Lu Yinbing’s gaze, then quickly, timidly looked away, biting her lower lip even harder until it was deeper red.

In all fairness, Man Yu’s face was quite delicate and pretty — not ugly at all. She looked like a good-natured, gentle, honest person. You couldn’t even tell she was twenty-eight; she could have passed for a university student. The gauze bandage covering most of her right cheek only made her look more innocent and pitiable.

If one had to name a flaw, it was the small, pale blue birthmark the size of a fingertip on her hairline, half-concealed by her bangs — invisible unless you looked closely. And she was far too thin, her cheeks hollowed out, her complexion wan.

She couldn’t bear to meet anyone’s gaze. The moment someone’s eyes swept toward her, her whole body crawled with discomfort. She’d even constantly suspect her zipper was down, or that someone was scrutinizing her, judging her, mocking her.

She’d grown her hair longer — first to conceal the birthmark, and then it kept growing, until it covered her nose, reducing her presence as much as possible.

Lu Yinbing’s gaze lingered on her face longer than Man Yu could bear. She lowered her eyes, the sheen of tears in them deepening, her teeth biting down harder.

Only when Lu Yinbing saw she was on the verge of tears did he slowly look away, unwilling to let it rest. “You grab someone’s wrist until it’s this red, and all you can say is sorry? Sheng Lin, I see your nature truly hasn’t changed.”

Sheng Lin’s face went instantly white. Gao Yuyang’s eyes flickered, darting between the three of them. And Man Yu, for the first time in her life, heard Sheng Lin say sorry to her.

It was only after Lu Yinbing pointed it out that she noticed her own wrist was red. Her body bruised easily — it would fade soon enough. She hastily said, “It — it’s fine,” and then added weakly, “It — it doesn’t hurt…”

Sheng Lin was still her husband, after all. How could she let someone speak about her husband that way?

Man Yu was not only honest — she was, in truth, a very traditional and conservative Beta.

Thinking about it, she found it both absurd and heartbreaking. She actually needed an outsider to stand up for her.

Having received the apology, Man Yu somehow felt even lower. Her head hung down, her slender, pale neck glowing softly under the light. Her wrist was still red. She stammered that it was okay. Her hair felt as soft as her temperament.

Lu Yinbing, with his brilliant mind, quickly put it all together in three short synapses. Sheng Lin’s half-brother was far more intelligent than Sheng Lin — skilled at seduction at the very least. Every gesture, every move was remarkably calculated.

…

He had to admit — she had seduced the right person.