The rest of the workday passed in a surreal haze of normalcy. Su Yang completed the Aether documentation with preternatural speed, his mind processing code and cosmic truths with equal ease. Wang Lihua, though efficient, was visibly distracted, her gaze often drifting towards the empty conference room where Professor Lin Rouxi was setting up her temporary office. The new presence was a splash of vibrant color in their gray world, and it unsettled the careful balance of Lihua's anxieties.
As the clock neared 5:30 PM, Lihua gathered her courage and approached Su Yang's cubicle. The memory of his high-handedness in the car was still fresh, but her grandfather's insistence and her own gnawing curiosity overpowered her irritation.
"Su Yang," she began, her voice hesitant. "My grandfather… he won't stop talking about you. He keeps asking when you're coming back for more 'sunshine therapy'." She managed a small, awkward smile. "He… he wanted me to invite you for dinner tonight. It's nothing fancy, just a home-cooked meal. To thank you properly."
Su Yang looked up from his screen. He could sense the genuine invitation behind her words, mixed with a layer of obligation and a flicker of her own desire to understand the enigma he represented. A home-cooked meal in a warm, familial setting was a stark contrast to the cold, luxurious dinner with Leng Xue. It appealed to a part of him that remembered simple human connections.
"I would be honored," he replied, his tone softening slightly.
Relief washed over Lihua's face. "Great! We can leave together. Just… give me ten minutes to finish up."
As they walked out of the office building later, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, they nearly collided with Leng Xue exiting the private executive elevator. She was a vision of power and elegance, her briefcase in hand, her expression its usual mask of cool composure.
But Su Yang's senses, and seemingly Lihua's sharpened intuition, perceived more.
To Su Yang, Leng Xue radiated a potent aura of freshly harmonized Yin and Yang. Their dual cultivation had left its mark; her Qi was smoother, brighter, her Snow Phoenix Physique humming with satisfied energy. She carried herself with a new, unconscious confidence, a subtle glow that no amount of corporate polish could conceal from his spiritual sight.
Wang Lihua, however, interpreted the signs through a purely mortal, yet surprisingly accurate, lens. She saw the slight, uncharacteristic languor in Leng Xue's movements, the way her icy demeanor seemed slightly softened at the edges. There was a faint blush that wasn't just from makeup, a fullness to her lips, and an unmistakable aura of a woman who had been… thoroughly cherished. It was the look of someone who had been well and truly loved, a ripe fruit that had been tasted. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, her suspicions from the dinner and the car ride solidifying into a near-certainty. *Something* had happened between her president and the intern-turned-manager.
"President Leng," Lihua stammered, bowing her head slightly.
Leng Xue's glacial eyes swept over them, lingering on Su Yang for a fraction of a second longer than professional decorum allowed. A flicker of something possessive—and amused—passed through them before being veiled.
"Ms. Wang. Mr. Su," she acknowledged, her voice crisp. "Working late?"
"Just heading out, President Leng," Su Yang said, his voice a calm counterpoint to the tension.
"I see. Do not let me keep you." With a final, unreadable glance, she turned and walked towards her waiting car, her heels clicking a decisive rhythm on the marble floor.
Lihua watched her go, her mind reeling. She looked at Su Yang, her expression a mix of awe and trepidation. "You… and her…?" she whispered, unable to finish the sentence.
Su Yang offered no confirmation or denial. He simply began walking towards the subway station. "Shall we? We wouldn't want to keep your grandfather waiting."
The journey to Lihua's home was filled with a heavy silence. Lihua's mind was a whirlwind of questions she didn't dare ask.
Meanwhile, Leng Xue's chauffeur-driven car glided through the evening traffic towards an exclusive, gated community of sprawling villas. This was not her modern penthouse; this was the Leng family estate. As the car passed through the imposing gates, her phone buzzed. A text from her mother: *"Your father and I are waiting. We have something important to discuss."*
A faint sigh escaped her lips. She knew what this was about.
She was greeted at the door by a stern-faced butler who took her briefcase. The interior of the villa was opulent in a traditional style, all dark rosewood furniture and silent, expensive art. In the grand sitting room, her parents awaited.
Her father, Leng Jian, was a man in his late fifties with a stern, uncompromising face and hair silvered at the temples. He sat rigidly in a high-backed chair, a polished mahogany cane resting beside him—more a symbol of authority than a necessity. He was the patriarch of the Leng Consortium, a vast but somewhat traditional enterprise.
Her mother, Wei Fang, was elegantly dressed, her face carefully maintained. Where her husband was sternness, she was ambition wrapped in silk.
"Xue'er," her father began, not one for pleasantries. "You're late."
"Apologies, Father. Work demands," she replied, taking a seat opposite them, her posture perfect.
"Work, always work," Wei Fang chimed in, though her tone was more excited than critical. "But that's not why we called you here. We had lunch today with the Chans. Their son, Young Master Chan, has just returned from his MBA at Stanford. He's handsome, well-mannered, and his family's shipping empire is quite impressive. They are very interested in a… connection."
Leng Xue's expression didn't flicker. "I am aware of Young Master Chan. I am not interested."
Leng Jian's hand tightened on the head of his cane. "This is not a matter of interest, Xue'er. It is a matter of strategy. A merger between our families would be beneficial for the consortium. It is time you stopped playing president in other people's companies and took your rightful place here, by a husband's side who can match your standing."
This was the old argument. Leng Xue had always refused to simply be a jewel in the Leng Consortium's crown. She had wanted to prove herself on her own merit, to gain experience outside the family shadow, hence her position at Celestial Code.
"My work is not 'playing,' Father," she said, her voice cool. "And my personal life is not a business strategy. There is no need for a blind date. I am already seeing someone."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Wei Fang's eyes lit up with voracious curiosity. "Seeing someone? Who? From which family? Is it the Li's second son? Or perhaps the heir to the Guo Group? Tell me everything!"
Leng Jian, however, saw it differently. His daughter, his prized, brilliant, albeit frustratingly independent daughter, had been claimed without his knowledge or approval. His face darkened like a thundercloud.
"Seeing someone?" he repeated, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Who is this person? Why have we not been informed? What are his prospects? His lineage?"
Leng Xue remained calm, though internally she was calculating how much to reveal. "His 'prospects' are his own affair. His lineage is irrelevant to me. He is… capable. More capable than any of the spoiled young masters you could parade before me."
This was the worst thing she could have said. It implied he was a self-made man, an outsider. To Leng Jian, this wasn't a suitor; this was a thief who had stolen into his garden and made off with his most prized cabbage without so much as a by-your-leave.
**CRACK!**
The sound was explosive in the quiet room. Leng Jian had brought his cane down hard on the edge of a rosewood side table, the fine wood splintering under the force of his rage.
"Irrelevant? HIS OWN AFFAIR?" he roared, surging to his feet. "You will tell me who he is this instant! How dare he approach you without seeking my permission! I will not have some… some *nobody* thinking he can woo a daughter of the Leng family!"
Wei Fang, though startled by her husband's outburst, was still focused on the potential. "Now, now, Jian, calm down. Xue'er has always had excellent judgment. If she says he is capable, perhaps he is a rising star we are not aware of. Tell me, dear, what is his name? What does he do?"
Leng Xue stood her ground, a glacier facing a storm. "That is my business. I am not a commodity to be traded. The matter is closed."
"IT IS NOT CLOSED!" her father bellowed, his face purpling. He pointed the splintered cane at her as if it were a sword. "You will end this foolishness! If this… this *insect* thinks he can steal from me, he has another thing coming! I will find him! I will have him investigated! And when I do, I will personally teach him what happens to those who overreach!"
The image of her father, with his broken cane, trying to "teach a lesson" to Su Yang—a being who could catch bullets and shatter bones with a touch—was so absurd that Leng Xue almost smiled. Almost.
"Do as you see fit, Father," she said, her voice dripping with icy disdain. "But I suggest you tread carefully. You might not like what you find."
With that, she turned and walked out of the sitting room, leaving her father sputtering in incoherent rage and her mother buzzing with a mixture of worry and intense, ambitious curiosity.
The ride back to her penthouse was spent in quiet contemplation. The mortal world, with its petty dramas of family and business, was starting to feel like a tedious play she was forced to act in. Her true life, her true purpose, was now hidden in a small, sparse apartment with a man who was more than a man. And as her father swore to find and crush his rival, Leng Xue knew, with chilling certainty, that the only one who would be crushed was her father's pride. The game was indeed changing, and the Leng family was about to stumble onto a board they couldn't possibly comprehend.