He tricked the female lead into becoming his boyfriend, but then went on to criticize the male lead.

Outside the door, Wen Fengzhi suppressed the awkwardness and embarrassment in his heart, deliberately softening his tone and conveying a deliberately cultivated father-son warmth:

"Xiao Ci, Dad wants to discuss something with you. Don't send your younger brother to a deserted island for training. That place is too harsh and dangerous; it's not a place for ordinary people. If you really want him to temper his character and get rid of his spoiled habits, I'll enroll him in a top-tier aristocratic summer camp. A period of proper training will be enough."

Inside the room, Wen Zhaoci heard this high-sounding speech and a cold sneer curled his thin lips.

A summer camp for the elite?

What a ridiculous and hypocritical excuse.

He slowly raised his eyes, his dark pupils unfathomable, surging with years of suppressed resentment and coldness.

Wen Zhaozhe was spoiled by He Anran and became arrogant and lawless. At school, he acted like a tyrant because of his status as the young master of the Wen family, but at home he acted like a quail in front of him. If he had behaved himself, it would have been fine, but he actually dared to take away Wen family shares in secret. Could a summer camp easily offset this?

Wen Zhaoci leaned back slightly, his posture languid yet exuding a strong sense of oppression. His tone was indifferent yet every word was barbed: "He's an adult, enrolling in a children's summer camp? Dad, you don't think it's absurd, but I find it laughable."

A single rhetorical question left Wen Fengzhi, who was standing outside the door, speechless.

A few seconds of silence followed. Wen Fengzhi's tone softened, carrying a hint of deliberate guilt and repentance, attempting to appeal to his emotions and soften him: "Xiao Ci, Dad knows... I was wrong to you back then. Your mother passed away early, and I was immersed in the grief of losing my wife. I was in a state of confusion and neglected to discipline you, sending you to a deserted island. I only wanted you to become independent and grow up quickly. I never had any intention of harming you."

These words were a perfect pretext, packaging all the cruelty and heartlessness as helpless paternal love.

But Zhao Ci felt nauseous upon hearing this.

They have always lived in harmony and loved each other.

She doted on and indulged Wen Zhaozhe, but towards him, she was utterly cold and ruthless.

The warmth in the boy's eyes vanished completely, leaving only a cold desolation. His voice suddenly deepened, carrying a sharpness that pierced the heart: "Don't try to fob me off with these high-sounding platitudes."

His words were clear and sharp, each sentence piercing through the other's pretense: "Back then, you abandoned me alone on a deserted island when I was young, cutting off all my escape routes, leaving me to struggle and barely survive in dire straits. What were your true thoughts? Did you want me to grow up quickly? Or did you wish for me to stay there, to fend for myself, and never get in the way of your youngest son?"

That hit the nail on the head, striking at the heart of the matter.

Wen Fengzhi, standing outside the door, suddenly turned pale, his heart sank, and he felt a pang of guilt and shortness of breath.

He clenched his fists instinctively, his fingertips turning white, and an unconcealable panic surged within him.

No one knows the truth of what happened back then better than him.

At that time, he favored his youngest son and had long disliked Wen Zhaoci, who was stubborn and too sharp-tongued. He was also wary of Wen Zhaoci's extraordinary talent and ability, fearing that he would seize power in the future, overpower Wen Zhaozhe, and dominate the entire Wen family.

When he abandoned the young Wen Zhaoci on the deserted island, he did harbor a dark intention in his heart to let him perish there and disappear completely.

If it weren't for the old man's unwavering protection of his eldest grandson, forcibly bringing the nearly life-threatening Wen Zhaoci back to the capital, and later overcoming all opposition to support him in taking over the Wen Group, he would be completely sidelined and reduced to a mere figurehead, and would have no right to stand here and speak with Wen Zhaoci.

Wen Fengzhi, his confidence completely gone, spoke with a weak and forced tone, trying to salvage the last shred of father-son affection: "No matter what, blood is thicker than water, we are father and son connected by blood."

"Father and son?"

Wen Zhaoci repeated the two words in a low voice, her tone full of sarcasm, her eyes devoid of any warmth, only chilling coldness.

He opened the door: "I'm back, not to talk about father-son relationships."

As soon as she finished speaking, Wen Zhaoci gave the other party no chance to argue or defend themselves, and suddenly slammed the door shut!

"boom--"

The heavy solid wood door slammed shut with a deafening bang, the force of which was immense.

Wen Fengzhi, who was standing outside the door, had no time to react. His nose almost hit the door panel. A gust of wind swept past his nose, startling him so much that he subconsciously took a half step back, feeling embarrassed and disheveled.

Looking at the tightly closed door, which blocked out all sound and completely cut off his last chance to plead for mercy.

Wen Fengzhi stood frozen in place, his face turning pale and then red, filled with embarrassment and helplessness, no longer possessing any of the dignity and grandeur of a patriarch.

He knew that there was absolutely no room for negotiation in this matter; Wen Zhaoci had made up his mind and would never let Wen Zhaozhe off easily.

I felt depressed and annoyed, with nowhere to vent my frustration.

He dared not return to his bedroom at that moment, for he would surely face He Anran's crying and nagging. The thought of his wife's hysterical state gave him a splitting headache.

Frustrated and restless, Wen Fengzhi turned around, went downstairs, drove away from the villa, and headed straight for a noisy nightclub, intending to drown his sorrows in alcohol and escape this mess.

Meanwhile, in another bedroom on the second floor of the villa, the atmosphere was oppressive and gloomy.

He Anran sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her son Wen Zhaozhe, whom she had carefully raised. Her eyes were filled with anxiety, fear and helplessness, her brows were tightly furrowed and her face was full of sorrow.

Her fingers gripped the hem of her clothes tightly, her voice trembling with suppressed sobs and filled with despair: "Son, it's all over now. We can't count on your father at all. He's completely under Wen Zhaoci's thumb now, he doesn't dare to turn against him, he's utterly useless, he can't protect you at all."

Thinking about the impending outcome, He Anran panicked, her voice trembling slightly: "What should we do? Wen Zhaoci definitely knows we're acquiring the scattered shares and is determined to send you to a deserted island. No one can change that!"

Over the years, she has schemed and plotted, suppressing and targeting Wen Zhaoci at every turn, and going to great lengths to pave the way for her son, all in an effort to ensure that Wen Zhaozhe firmly holds the position of Wen family heir.

But now all the calculations seem to have come to naught.

Wen Zhaozhe stood by the window, his back to his mother. The young man was tall and straight, but there was no fear or unease in his eyes. Instead, there was a deep sense of gloom and resentment.

He was always arrogant and frivolous in public, acting like a good-for-nothing rich young master, but in private, he was always cunning, ruthless, and ambitious.

Hearing his mother's panicked and helpless words, Wen Zhaozhe slowly turned around, a cold and arrogant smile curving his lips, his eyes sharp and obsessive, showing no sign of the panic that he was about to be sent to a deserted island.

"Mom, you're panicking too much."

His tone was indifferent, tinged with disdain, as if everyone had misjudged him: "You've been wearing a mask of weakness and meekness around me for so many years, and you've even come to believe it yourself, thinking I'm really just a troublemaker, a good-for-nothing who's always afraid of Wen Zhaoci?"