After ninety-nine online romances, I finally met my ex in person when school started.

Pan Manni froze, cold sweat instantly soaking the back of her Chanel suit. She could clearly feel the chill emanating from the blade. It wasn't intimidation; it was the aura of someone who had actually killed.

Pan Jiayi was so frightened that she collapsed on the sofa, covering her mouth and not daring to make a sound.

"Outrageous! What are you all doing?!"

Pan Hongxuan strode over from the corridor at the back of the hall. His expression changed drastically when he saw this scene.

Zhu Xunchuan snapped his fingers.

Xiao Bai instantly sheathed his sword and retreated like a ghost into the shadows behind the pillar, disappearing from sight.

"Fourth Uncle! He brought men and weapons into the Pan family! He wants to kill me!" Pan Manni screamed loudly, pointing at Zhu Xun Chuan as if she had grasped a lifeline.

Pan Hongxuan walked over with a gloomy face. He looked at the torn bag strap, then at the composed Zhu Xunchuan.

The fourth son of the gambling king did not react; in fact, he felt a surge of joy. The second and third wives had suppressed him for twenty years, and Zhu Xun Chuan's move today was tantamount to slapping those two wives across the face.

But outwardly he still had to maintain a facade of politeness.

"Mr. Zhu, our servants are ignorant of etiquette; please forgive them," Pan Hongxuan apologized softly. He then turned and angrily rebuked Pan Manni, "Manni, you brought outsiders to bully your sister? Do you think I don't exist? Get back to the third branch of the family!"

Pan Manni gritted her teeth, her eyes filled with resentment, but she dared not look at Zhu Xun Chuan again. She picked up her bag with the broken strap and fled the hall in a disheveled state.

Su Mucheng breathed a long sigh of relief.

She clung to Zhu Xun Chuan's arm, her whole body going limp in his embrace. If she had come alone today, she would surely have been devoured alive by this group.

"What did that French sentence mean?" Su Mucheng looked up and asked curiously.

"They're jealous because they say you're too beautiful," Zhu Xun Chuan said casually, pinching the tip of her nose.

Jiang Yao rolled her eyes, put away her butterfly knife, and didn't bother to expose the man's nonsense. But she had to admit that Zhu Xun Chuan's London accent was indeed extremely charming.

The hall returned to silence.

The Filipino maids kept their heads down and quickly cleaned up the spilled tea, not daring to make a sound.

Directly above the high-ceilinged hall.

Behind the European-style carved wooden railings in the second-floor corridor.

A pair of cloudy yet unfathomable eyes silently looked down at everything happening downstairs.

The old man, dressed in a traditional Chinese suit, leaned on a sandalwood cane with a dragon head. Standing at the pinnacle of power on Hong Kong Island, he witnessed half a century of trials and tribulations for the Pan family.

"Master, should we have someone throw that young man out?" the old butler in a tailcoat asked in a low voice from behind.

The gambling king shook his head, his gaze fixed on Zhu Xun Chuan's calm profile.

"The fourth son has a wonderful daughter who has found a formidable man. He speaks with a thick old-fashioned accent, is accompanied by the eldest daughter of the Jiang family from the Northern Border, and has a ruthless expert lurking in the shadows."

The gambling king struck the mahogany floor with his cane, producing a dull thud.

"Go and investigate the recent developments on the mainland. Find out everything about this young man. I think the second son and his gang are in for a rough time at tomorrow's ancestral recognition ceremony."

The following day, Mid-Levels Estate on Hong Kong Island.

The morning sea breeze dispersed the thin mist over Victoria Harbour. Thirty media vans blocked the black wrought iron gate, their cameras and lenses aimed at the Scottish red carpet laid out to the fountain square.

Today marks the biggest storm in the history of the fourth family of the Hong Kong gambling tycoon in twenty years.

Inside the banquet hall, crystal chandeliers reflected dazzling light. Prominent figures from Hong Kong's political and business circles, shipping tycoons, and stock market speculators were all present. The champagne tower shimmered with gold, and socialites in custom-made gowns gathered at the edge of the corridor, holding wine glasses and speaking with a discerning tone.

"I heard they were brought back from the mainland entertainment industry."

"Celebrities are public figures, to put it nicely; but to put it bluntly, in a family like ours, they're just people who can't be brought to the table."

"Fourth Uncle has been childless for twenty years, and now he thinks he can just bring back anyone and claim a share of the Pan family's billions? The second branch and the third son will definitely not miss this opportunity to see us make a fool of ourselves."

Pan Shaoze, the eldest grandson of the third branch of the family, stood at the far end of the long table, his wine glass swirling gently in his hand. A medical bandage covered his face, a bruise from when he slammed his hand against the car door after being intimidated by Zhu Xunchuan's imposing manner yesterday. His eyes were gloomy as he stared at the spiral staircase leading to the second floor.

Today he'll see if an actor who works in mainland China, putting on a smiling face, can hide his poverty by wearing expensive clothes.

At 9:00 a.m. sharp, the symphony orchestra played a steady and melodious tune.

The conversations in the room subsided along with the melody.

At the top of the spiral staircase, heavy French mahogany double doors open to both sides.

There was no crampedness, no shabbyness.

Su Mucheng took Zhu Xunchuan's right arm and walked down the steps one by one.

A deathly silence fell over the entire hall. The socialites who had been holding wine glasses and waiting to watch the drama unfold froze, their mocking expressions instantly gone.

Su Mucheng wore a moon-white, intricately woven evening gown. This was definitely not a haute couture piece that could be borrowed locally in Hong Kong. It was "The Kiss of the Muse," flown directly from a top studio in Paris overnight by Kyoto Xia Wanying using Dinghe Group's international private air freight service. It was the only one of its kind in the world.

The dress wasn't adorned with extravagant rhinestones; the silk fabric clung to her perfectly proportioned body, and the neckline was tightly fitted, revealing a clean, white swan-like neck. She didn't have the heavy makeup of a makeup team; her long hair was styled in a high bun, revealing a distinctive small, bright red mole behind her ear.

Having honed his top-tier aura in front of the camera for three years, he now has the backing of big capital and powerful figures.

She is no longer a singing and dancing star on screen, but a powerful heiress standing at the top of the pyramid.

"What a powerful aura..." a banker's wife murmured, forgetting her wine glass in mid-air.

Pan Shaoze's face turned ashen as he slammed the wine glass down on the table.

Zhu Xun Chuan changed into a sharply tailored, all-black suit, without a tie, and with the top button of his shirt undone. He walked steadily, matching Su Mu Cheng's pace. His gaze swept over the Hong Kong dignitaries below the stage, his eyes showing not a trace of extraneous emotion.

This kind of disregard is the highest form of contempt.

At the front of the hall, the old gambling king, supported by two servants, slowly stood up from the main seat in the main hall.

The old man was dressed in a dark gold traditional Tang suit. He raised his dragon-headed cane and tapped it twice on the mahogany floor.

The guests quickly lowered their heads and bowed to listen to the instructions.

"The extinction of the fourth branch of the family line has been a thorn in my side for twenty years." The gambling king's voice was deep and heavy, each word landing in the hall where thousands were present. "The child that my Pan family lost has been found today."

Pan Hongxuan stood to the left of the old man, his eyes red-rimmed.

The old butler carried a thick, gold-edged rosewood family genealogy book in both hands and walked to the center of the hall. Another servant, holding a white jade inkstone and a brush dipped in yellow ink, knelt respectfully.

The gambling king accepted the calligraphy brush.

The old man's hand was steady, and without the slightest hesitation, he wrote the name of the fourth son, Pan Hongxuan, with a flourish.

The three large characters are powerful and penetrating.

—Pan Mucheng.