My Ares Son-in-Law

Hearing Zhou Fenfang say this much, even bringing up the clan leader Zhou Yanhe, who was the pillar of the Zhou family and held supreme authority in the family, everyone was shocked.

He knew he had no room for maneuver; he was like a lamb tightly bound by ropes, at the mercy of others.

As a servant of the Zhou family, he was instilled with absolute loyalty to his master from a young age and could only obey orders, even if there were mountains of knives and seas of fire or bottomless abysses ahead.

His face showed a look of despair and pain. His already somewhat weathered face looked even more haggard, and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat that slowly slid down his cheeks.

His legs felt as heavy as lead, each step as if using all his strength. Trembling, he slowly and reluctantly made a move to put the cold white jade Pixiu back in its original place.

The Pixiu in his hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, making it hard for him to breathe.

At this critical moment, when everyone's hearts were in their throats, their eyes fixed on the middle-aged man and the Pixiu in his hand, thinking that the conflict was about to escalate further, and might even trigger a full-scale confrontation between the two powerful families in the western region, causing a dramatic change in the entire western region's business landscape—

An aged voice, like the resounding of an ancient bell, carrying unparalleled majesty and weight, seemed to pierce through time and space, and could firmly establish the order of the universe. It came clearly from the outer edge of the crowd not far away.

The sound was like a thunderclap, ringing in the ears of everyone present and drowning out all the noise and whispers.

"Wang Li has no right to represent the Wang family..."

The voice paused slightly, as if containing boundless power, instantly freezing the atmosphere. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the next sentence.

Then, the sound exploded like thunder:
"And what about me?!"

The moment the sound reached Zhou Fenfang's ears, it was as if a bolt of lightning from the heavens struck her with a devastating force.

The voice was like a sharp blade, instantly piercing her eardrums and reaching the depths of her soul.

She seemed to be frozen in place, her delicate body trembling uncontrollably. Her high heels slipped on the smooth ground, and she almost lost her balance, stumbling forward.

If it weren't for her attendant's quick reflexes in helping her up, she would probably have fallen to the ground in a sorry state, making a complete fool of herself in front of everyone.

Her eyes, which were originally full of anger and dominance, were now swept away by a sudden storm, replaced by boundless horror and utter panic.

Her pupils contracted sharply, like two stars whose light had been suddenly extinguished, as if she had seen some terrifying being that should never have been there.

It was a fear that came from the depths of one's heart, like a little rabbit suddenly facing a ferocious tiger, all courage and pride shattered in an instant.

"No...impossible..."

“This is absolutely impossible!!!”

A voice inside her screamed and roared wildly, like a wild beast trapped in a cage, constantly pounding against the bars, refusing to accept this reality.

She couldn't believe that she would hear such a sound at this time and in this place.

The appearance of that voice was like a bombshell, shattering all her previous plans and confidence.

Her neck was stiff, like a rusty mechanical part, making a "clunking" sound with each turn. With an almost desperate slowness, she slowly and with great difficulty turned her head to look in the direction of the sound.

Her movements seemed to be a struggle against an invisible, powerful force, each inch of movement consuming immense energy. Her gaze pierced through the gaps in the crowd, gaps that appeared to conceal countless secrets and unknowns, causing her heart to clench involuntarily.

She saw clearly an elderly man dressed in a simple yet impeccably ironed dark gray Zhongshan suit.

Although the color of the Zhongshan suit was deep, it exuded a sense of texture that had been refined over the years, and every fold seemed to tell a story of the past.

The old man's full head of silver hair was neatly combed, without a single stray hair, like a pure white snowfield, clean and pure.

His face was thin and gaunt, and the years had left deep marks on it, but they had not diminished his dignity in the slightest.

It was a face weathered by time, each wrinkle as if sculpted by the chisel of years, containing endless stories and wisdom.

His eyes, though gentle, contained an indescribable majesty and vicissitude, like a bottomless lake, calm on the surface but with turbulent waves hidden deep within.

At this moment, he was leaning on a seemingly ordinary but actually deeply textured sandalwood cane.

The cane was made of hard and smooth wood, with a grain pattern like mountains and rivers, intricate yet rhythmic, as if it were a masterpiece drawn by nature itself.

Supported by a silent and capable attendant, he walked steadily towards them, step by step, as firm as a mountain.

Each step he took was firm and powerful, as if the entire ground trembled slightly with each step.

His figure stood out prominently in the crowd, like an insurmountable mountain, inspiring awe in everyone.

His pace was slow, each step seemingly deliberate, carrying an innate calmness and certainty.

The footsteps, neither hurried nor slow, echoed like the beating of war drums in the silent air.

It could even be described as somewhat slow, so slow that it seemed as if time itself had frozen at that moment. But with each step he took, it was as if he carried immense force, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down with each step, heavily stomping on the hearts of everyone present who knew the situation!

That power, penetrating the air and skin, reached the deepest part of people's hearts, causing everyone's heartbeats to involuntarily become disordered in rhythm with his footsteps.

Almost the instant she saw the old man's face clearly, Zhou Fenfang felt a sudden darkness before her eyes, as if she had been struck by an invisible lightning bolt.

The color drained from her face like the receding tide, leaving it as pale as paper, devoid of any color, like a flower ravaged by a storm, having lost all its vitality.

This pallor was ten times, a hundred times, more ashen than when Wang Li had reprimanded him!
It was as if her soul had been ripped from her body, leaving only a lifeless shell.

Wang Kun!

These two words exploded in Zhou Fenfang's mind like two heavy bombs.

The pillar of the Wang family!
He was a figure who held a supreme position in the Wang family, a pillar of strength.

His existence is the spiritual symbol of the Wang family and a solid backing that enables the Wang family to stand firm in the western region.

The old patriarch of the Wang family! (End of this chapter)