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

Wen Zhaoci ran her fingertips over the screen, looking at the GIF several times. Her warm fingertips almost reached through the cold screen to touch the vibrant and passionate girl.

The empty laboratory was so quiet that only his shallow breathing could be heard, but his thoughts drifted uncontrollably away.

He recalled the night Sang Jiuning stayed overnight at his apartment when school had just started.

It was his tenderness that was so close, so within reach.

If only his little girl could be a bit more enthusiastic and respond to him more openly.

Thoughts surged, and the restlessness in my heart spread through my veins to every part of my body.

Wen Zhaoci stared down at his phone, his dark pupils deep and unfathomable. His Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably as the long-suppressed emotions in his heart began to grow wildly like weeds.

Their chat continued, with the two exchanging pleasantries intermittently.

I had no dreams all night, yet I was surrounded by dreams everywhere.

The next morning.

As dawn broke, dappled sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains into the apartment bedroom.

Wen Zhaoci slowly opened her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, the lingering image of last night's enchanting and tender dream still present in her eyes.

He looked down at his pajama bottoms, remained silent for two seconds, then closed his eyes helplessly and let out a long, stale breath.

It's always like this.

Whenever I dream of Sang Jiuning at night, dreaming of her gentle smile as she looks at me, I always lose control.

In his dream, Sang Jiuning was passionate and straightforward. She would take the initiative to approach him, softly call him "husband," and belong to him completely.

Wen Zhaoci raised his hand to his brow, his dark eyes filled with suppressed desire and extreme patience.

Not urgent.

He wasn't in a hurry at all.

He murmured to himself, his voice low and deep.

hold on.

Wait until his baby turns 20, wait until she grows up a little more, wait until she likes him a little more, wait until her heart and eyes are full of him, wait until she becomes more dependent on and attached to him.

Wen Zhaoci casually tossed her silk pajamas and underwear into the washing machine.

I casually picked up my phone, and the screen suddenly lit up. The caller ID, typical of the old house, abruptly broke the tranquility of the room.

"A pug stood at the gate, its eyes dark and gleaming, looking for a bone..."

He glanced down at the word "Dad" on the screen, his dark pupils devoid of warmth, only a cold indifference remaining. His long, slender fingers traced the answer button, his deep voice betraying no emotion: "Feed."

"Get back to the old house immediately!"

Wen Fengzhi's furious roar came from the other end of the phone, making the receiver vibrate slightly. Before Wen Zhaoci could respond, the other end hung up, leaving only the cold busy tone echoing in her ears.

Wen Zhaoci's fingers tightened slightly as she gripped the phone, her knuckles turning a faint bluish-white.

He knew it perfectly well.

It's nothing more than the fact that Wen Zhaozhe's exile to the African branch has been exposed, and his extremely biased father is now seeking justice for his beloved youngest son.

A faint, cold smile curved his lips, his eyes swirling with malice and mockery.

It doesn't matter, I'll just go back.

He casually put down his phone, changed into a clean black casual shirt, stood tall and straight like a pine tree, yet exuded a deep chill, and drove to the Wen family's old residence.

The car came to a steady stop outside the carved iron gate of the old house. As soon as the door was pushed open and the courtyard was stepped into, a crisp, ear-piercing sound of porcelain shattering suddenly rang out.

"Bang--!"

The celadon teacup slammed onto the mahogany floor, shards flying everywhere. Scalding hot tea spilled all over the floor, releasing a faint aroma that only made the atmosphere in the entire villa feel incredibly oppressive.

In the living room, Wen Fengzhi's face was ashen, his chest heaving violently. He stared intently at Wen Zhaoci as she entered, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You actually know how to come back?!"

Wen Zhaoci walked with composure and indifference, as if his furious father and the mess on the ground had nothing to do with him.

He lowered his eyes slightly, his tone flat and indifferent: "You told me to come back, so I came back."

"You're back just in time!" Wen Fengzhi abruptly stood up from the sofa, strode over to him, his face frighteningly grim. "Come into the study with me!"

The heavy solid wood study door clicked shut, cutting off all outside noise. In the small, enclosed space, only Wen Fengzhi's suppressed anger remained.

There were no unnecessary questions, no preamble.

Wen Fengzhi pulled out his leather belt from his waist with a backhand motion. The dark and hard belt drew a sharp arc in the air, accompanied by a whistling sound, and lashed straight at Wen Zhaoci!

With Wen Zhaoci's skill, he could easily dodge this hasty and furious slap with just a slight turn of his body, without getting hurt at all.

Just as the belt was about to hit him, he glanced up and saw the sharp black shadow, and his dark eyes suddenly darkened.

Why are you hiding?

Taking these few hits is worth it.

A thought flashed through her mind, but Wen Zhaoci froze, neither dodging nor avoiding.

"Snapped!"

The hard leather belt lashed hard across his fair, firm forearm, which was exposed by his rolled-up sleeves, instantly leaving a bright red, glaring welt. A burning pain spread along his skin.

A sharp pain came clearly, but Wen Zhaoci's back was straight, his brows were deep, and he didn't even frown. His face remained calm and composed.

Wen Fengzhi thought that he would dodge the attack because of his personality, but seeing his silent and forbearing appearance, he raised his hand again and whipped the belt twice more.

Two crisp sounds landed on his arm and shoulder in succession, leaving layers of red marks, and the stinging pain became increasingly intense.

After those two strokes, Wen Fengzhi abruptly stopped.

His grip on the belt tightened slightly, and a sense of apprehension inexplicably rose in his heart.

He knows his eldest son all too well.

Wen Zhaoci was a deep and ruthless person from a young age. He was meticulous in everything he did and never wanted to suffer any loss.

Today's unusual lack of evasion and dodging is not an admission of wrongdoing or submission, but rather a sign that they are harboring an even bigger plan and patiently accumulating strength.

The old saying goes that things shouldn't happen more than three times, so he only dared to hit three times.

If he angers Wen Zhaoci, in the end, only he and his youngest son, Wen Zhaozhe, will suffer.

Thinking of this, Wen Fengzhi suppressed his anger, casually tossed the belt aside, and coldly and sternly rebuked, "Did I hit you today for no reason?! Isn't it because you're too heartless! You insisted on sending your brother to that remote and harsh place in Africa!"

The air in the closed study was stagnant and cold.

Wen Zhaoci slowly raised his eyes, his narrow eyes narrowed slightly, and a cold glint was hidden in his dark eyes. His tone remained calm, without the slightest ripple: "He is not content with his lot. He bribed key figures in the group and wanted to interfere in the company's projects. Since he wants to interfere in the company's affairs, the African branch just happens to be short of a person in charge with full authority. He is the most suitable person to go there."

"The most suitable?" Wen Fengzhi laughed, his face full of disapproval. "There are so many branch offices in the country, where can't we arrange it? Why do we have to send him so far away! It's remote and underdeveloped, a long journey, he won't be able to come back even once a year! What are you up to?"