Elite Saphire Penthouse, 18:15;
The Xi Trio paced the kitchen like caged animals, tension thrumming through every nerve. Unease clung to them, heavy and unshakable.
Hours ago, Xi Yuan had ordered that Luo Youyou's gunshot wound be treated—icily, indifferently—and then, without another word, slid behind the wheel of his Mercedes-Benz S-Class and disappeared into the afternoon sun.
No invitation. No remorse. No room for protest.
Just a single, chilling directive: "Dinner. At the penthouse."
And then—gone.
He'd set fire to every remnant of their parents' greed. Brick by brick, company by company, he'd reduced the empire they once created to ashes. Offices, factories, estates—destroyed, as if cleansing the family name with flame and fury.
Then came the shot. Not fired in anger—but in twisted tenderness, a warped offering to the woman he still loved and worshipped.
Luo Youyou had been his message. Rong Xinghe, his audience.
