At Zi Mansion
As Han Xue stepped weakly out of the cab at the imposing gates of Zi Mansion, the staff immediately recognized her. The grandeur of the mansion loomed before her—three courtyards, four buildings, two massive swimming areas, gaming arenas, and a main garden. Perched on the hillside, the estate was a testament to the unshakable power and status of the Zi family. Owning even a small piece of land in this area was nearly impossible, and the mansion itself felt almost surreal to Han Xue now.
She took the internal Zi car, which ferried her to the main building where Zi Mingsheng, the family patriarch, and her beloved Grandpa, resided with Grandma. As the car moved through the sprawling grounds, the vastness of the mansion only deepened the sense of distance between her and the life she once dreamed of.
Upon her arrival, Butler Ji, the elderly butler who had served the family for decades, guided her inside with his usual warmth and respect. He was known for only greeting a select few with such kindness, and Han Xue was one of them, signaling to everyone just how much Grandpa valued her.
She was led into the dining room where Grandpa Zi was waiting. He smiled at her as she greeted him politely, but there was a palpable tension in the air. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments as Grandpa finished drinking a glass of medicine, his frailty a sharp contrast to his once-dominant presence.
After a long pause, Grandpa finally broke the silence. His voice, filled with disappointment, was calm but firm. "I heard he promised you 0.01% shares."
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At Zi Softech
Meanwhile, at Zi Softech, Zi Haoran was far from his usual composed self. Though his hands moved mechanically, signing papers and skimming documents, his mind was somewhere else entirely. Five cups of black coffee sat empty on his desk, but no amount of caffeine could quiet his restless thoughts.
Everyone in the company was suffering the effects of his unpredictable mood, but Haoran himself was plagued by a storm of inner turmoil.
She looked different today, he kept thinking, unable to shake the memory of Han Xue's face.
But of course, he reasoned bitterly, she went to her lover’s grave.
Kang Shilin. The name hung heavy in Haoran's mind. Kang Shilin was his stepbrother, born of his mother’s love marriage to Kang Manchu, the eldest son of the Kang family. While Kang Manchu had been a talented businessman who, with Zi Mingsheng's backing, brought Kang Corporation into the top ten companies in the country, Kang Shilin had chosen a different path, becoming one of the nation's most beloved actors.
Despite their differences, Kang Shilin had always been a popular figure, someone people admired. To the public, he was known as the "nation's husband," but Haoran knew the truth. Shilin only ever wanted to be Han Xue's husband.
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The fact that Kang Shilin was killed—ruthlessly—by none other than Zi Haoran himself weighed on him, though not with guilt. Haoran had justified it, like he always did. What still puzzled him was why, even after learning the truth, Kang Manchu had taken no significant action against him. Haoran often wondered if Kang Manchu was truly afraid of him, or if something deeper held the man back from seeking revenge.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone. It was his men calling with another update. Haoran answered, his tone sharp and impatient.
“Sir, Madam went to meet Old Master Zi,” the voice on the other end reported hesitantly.
Haoran’s eyes narrowed, anger flaring in his chest. Now she’s scheming behind my back with my grandfather, he thought, his mind quickly painting her as a manipulative woman. She’s even pulling tricks with the old man... surely a scheming woman.
Irritated, he spat into the phone, "No need to report to me anymore."
The man on the line was stunned into silence, unsure how to respond.
After a few minutes, Zi Haoran's phone rang again, breaking the tense silence in his office. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening when he saw the caller ID—Han Xue.
Shameless woman, he thought, his anger bubbling to the surface. His nerves bulged, and without thinking twice, he hurled the phone across the room, smashing it into a corner with a loud crash.
The audacity of her to call him now, after everything. His anger simmered beneath the surface, but the sheer boldness of her action only fueled his rage.
And yet, in the midst of his frustration, a twisted, bitter laugh escaped his lips. It started softly, but soon turned into full, hysterical laughter, echoing through the room. The sound was hollow, tinged with madness, as he remained oblivious to the truth waiting for him just beyond his grasp.
He had no idea what the future had in store for him, no clue of the storms brewing beyond his control.
Zi Mansion, continued
"I heard he promised you 0.01% of the shares," Grandpa's voice was lined with disappointment, the weight of his words heavy in the air.
Han Xue remained silent, a subtle confirmation that the rumor was indeed true.
Grandma let out a long, exhausted sigh. "I’ll give you all of his shares," he said quietly, his tone revealing his long frustration. "His behavior is getting out of hand..."
Earlier she took at his frustration but there was something about Grandpa Zi’s face, though, that made Han Xue uneasy. His complexion seemed to grow paler by the second. Concerned, she moved closer to him. "Grandpa... are you—"
Before she could finish, Grandpa’s body slumped forward, collapsing from the chair onto the floor with a horrifying shriek.
“Grandpaaaa!” Han Xue’s scream pierced the silence of the mansion.
“Butler Jii! Someone!” she cried out, but no one responded. Panic surged through her as she frantically looked around. The grand, sprawling house was suddenly eerily quiet, the usual buzz of activity gone. It felt like they had been abandoned.
Her hands shook as she fumbled for her phone. Desperate, she dialed Zi Haoran’s number—only he could handle something like this. The phone rang, but after a few seconds, the cold automated voice responded: The user is currently busy.
Not willing to give up, she immediately called again, hoping Haoran would sense the urgency. This time, her heart sank as the response came: The phone is switched off.
An overwhelming sense of dread swept over her. Something was terribly wrong.
Before she could react, the crisp sound of shoes clanking against the marble floor echoed through the mansion. Her body tensed as the footsteps grew louder.
Slowly, a tall figure emerged from the shadows—Kang Manchu, his build intimidating, his expression unreadable as he stepped into view.