[At Li Hao's house]
The soft click of the front door echoed in the luxurious, silent entryway of Li Hao's penthouse. A wide, genuine smile stretched across his face, a rare sight that usually only flickered within the privacy of his thoughts.
He still carried the faint scent of charcoal and roasted chestnuts, lingering from the street vendors in Beijing. Last night with Yu Han had been… everything. They'd talked for hours, his guard completely down, their whispered conversations weaving through the vibrant night markets. They'd explored unfamiliar alleyways, shared steaming bowls of noodles, and laughed until their sides ached as firecrackers burst like mischievous stars against the inky sky.
For a few glorious hours, he hadn't been 'the' Li Hao – the CEO, the billionaire, the public figure scrutinized by a thousand lenses. He was just Li Hao, a man enjoying a simple, uncomplicated moment. He'd almost forgotten the weight of his name, the crushing burden of his responsibilities.
But as he stepped fully into the lavish living room, the memory of that carefree joy shattered like thin ice. His smile vanished, replaced by a cold, hard mask. There, on his pristine cream sofa, sat the one man he loathed above all others.
Mr. Li, his father, was leisurely flipping through a financial newspaper, a cloud of expensive cigar smoke faintly clinging to the air. The very sight of him was an affront, a stain on the peace Li Hao had just found.
Mr. Li slowly lowered the newspaper, his eyes, sharp and calculating, drifting from the printed page to his son's face. A thin, knowing smile played on his lips.
"Ah, so you've finally decided to grace us with your presence, Li Hao. And by the look of that foolish grin you were wearing a moment ago, I take it you've finally seen reason regarding the marriage, hmm?" His voice was smooth as polished stone, yet carried a subtle, condescending edge.
Li Hao's face, which had just moments ago radiated warmth, now turned a mottled green with suppressed fury. His jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack. "What in hell are you doing in my house?" His voice was a low growl, barely controlled.
Mr. Li chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. He folded the newspaper with deliberate slowness, placing it neatly beside him.
"What am I doing in your house? Do I need to seek your permission, boy? Huh? I am your father, Li Hao. Do not forget that." His eyes, cold and unyielding, fixed on his son.
Li Hao scoffed, a bitter, guttural sound that tasted like bile. "Father? I don't have a father. Not anymore."
Mr. Li threw his head back and laughed, a loud, booming sound that grated on Li Hao's nerves.
"My blood runs in your veins, Li Hao! How can you deny me? The entire world knows of our connection. And let's not forget, you are at the pinnacle of this empire only because of the name 'Li' – my name. Without it, you'd be nothing more than a common street urchin."
Blood rushed to Li Hao's head, hot and searing. The contempt in his father's voice, the smug arrogance, the constant reminder of a lineage he wished he could sever – it was unbearable.
He wanted to strip himself of every drop of blood, every cell that carried this man's toxic DNA. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep, ragged breath, fighting for control.
"Get out," he hissed, his voice trembling with the effort. "Get out of my house, now."
Mr. Li's expression darkened, the amused smirk dissolving into a hard, menacing frown. He pushed himself up from the sofa, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the polished floor.
"Your blind date is arranged for tonight, Li Hao. With Yuna. You will be there. And you will not, under any circumstances, mess with my plans. This alliance will make our company the undisputed number one in China. Our shares will skyrocket. This marriage is happening."
"I am not going," Li Hao stated, his voice flat, resolute. He wouldn't be blackmailed, not like this.
Mr. Li took a slow, deliberate step towards his son, then another. His eyes, usually clouded with indifference, now blazed with a terrifying rage. Li Hao stood his ground, observing his father's approach with a strange mix of dread and defiance.
When Mr. Li was barely an arm's length away, his hand shot out with startling speed. The sharp, cracking sound echoed through the luxurious space as his open palm connected with Li Hao's cheek. The force was immense, sending a jolt of pain through Li Hao's entire body. Clear, red imprints of his father's fingers bloomed across his handsome face, a stark, violent contrast to his pale skin.
Yet, Li Hao remained rooted to the ground, his body unyielding, betraying no other sign of the blow. He met his father's furious gaze without a flicker of fear.
Mr. Li recoiled slightly, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with an ancient, festering hatred.
"You and your fucking mother," he spat, his voice laced with venom.
"That bitch! Both of you ruined my life! The whole problem was that bitch, she seduced me, and then I had you. And still, I took care of both of you! Look how I'm getting my reward for my generosity!"
The world tilted. Li Hao could endure any insult, any verbal lash directed at him. He was a fortress against personal attacks.
But his mother… his mother was a memory, a pure, undefiled sanctuary in his heart. The thought of this vile man defiling her even after death, twisting her gentle spirit into a manipulative harlot, was an unbearable affront.
A guttural roar tore from his throat. Before Mr. Li could react, Li Hao shot forward, his hand seizing his father's silk collar in a crushing grip. Mr. Li struggled, his eyes widening in alarm, his feet scrambling for purchase on the smooth floor.
But just as Li Hao's rage threatened to consume him entirely, Mr. Li's free hand deftly pulled out his phone. He thrust the screen close to Li Hao's face.
The image on display made Li Hao freeze, his blood turning to ice in his veins. It was a photo of his mother's grave. Not pristine and serene as he remembered, but partially destroyed – the marble cracked, an urn overturned, a gaping hole beside the headstone.
"Stop," Li Hao whispered, his voice stripped of all anger, replaced by a chilling terror. His grip on Mr. Li's collar slackened, his eyes fixed on the devastating image.
Mr. Li, seizing his moment, smirked, his voice dropping to a low, chilling whisper. "Marry Yuna, Li Hao. Or I'll finish what I started. I'll destroy everything you cherish. Every single thing, piece by piece."
With a final, triumphant glare, Mr. Li adjusted his crumpled suit jacket, his eyes still holding that cruel, victorious glint. He turned and strode out of the house, the heavy front door clicking shut behind him, leaving Li Hao standing alone in the deafening silence, the ghost of a slap still stinging his cheek, the image of his mother's defiled resting place burned into his mind.
The last vestiges of Yu Han's laughter, of the warmth of the firecrackers, of the simple joy, had been utterly annihilated.
Crushed.
He felt hollowed out, an empty shell where a man had just been. He was back.
Back to being 'the' Li Hao, not his own man, but a puppet, his strings tugged by the monstrous hand of his father. His mother. His sanctuary.
How dare he? How dare he touch her, even in death? The promise of that free night, that brief escape, was a cruel mirage. He had to marry Yuna. He had to. There was no choice. He was trapped, a king in a golden cage, yet utterly powerless. The taste of freedom, so sweet just hours ago, now turned to ash in his mouth.