Qiu Shubai and Luo Yang walked side by side. The camphor trees lining the main road of the residential area sieved the noon sun into dappled gold, scattering flecks of light across their shoulders.
"You... just let her eat that stuff?" Qiu Shubai tilted her head, her tone carrying a hint of uncertainty.
Luo Yang knew she was referring to Yan Zhi. He gave a light chuckle and nudged the brim of his hat upward.
"That girl could probably survive on nothing but happy water and potato chips."
Qiu Shubai shot him a glance that clearly said, "I don't believe a word of it."
Luo Yang shrugged, offering no further explanation.
At the entrance of the complex, an elongated luxury sedan was parked by the curb. The body was finished in a standard black paint, devoid of any gaudy modifications. Yet, the unique silhouette of the car alone was enough to convey its high-end status.
Luo Yang followed Qiu Shubai into the vehicle.
The moment the door closed, the cicadas' chirping and the outside heat were completely shut out. The temperature inside the cabin was perfect, and the leather seats emitted a faint, woody fragrance.
A driver dressed in black sat in the front, his back ramrod straight and his hands placed formally on the steering wheel. Looking through the rearview mirror, he didn't even shift his gaze toward the back once.
Luo Yang's eyes swept across the interior, from the recessed ambient lighting above to the hand-woven carpet beneath his feet. Every detail silently proclaimed the car's immense value.
"Is this your family's car?" he asked.
Qiu Shubai thought for a moment. "In a way."
She paused, as if weighing her words.
"The internal strife within the Qiu family has progressed to a very serious stage. Each faction has its own private assets. Although these assets are still nominally under the Qiu family name, the current Matriarch—my mother—actually cannot mobilize them."
Luo Yang nodded and didn't press further.
He had no intention of getting involved in the Qiu family's internal power struggle. In his eyes, it was just an unwieldy, messy affair. However, he held one clear line in his heart: if these people ever fought to the point of harming the interests of Shenzhou, he would not stand idly by.
The car merged onto the city expressway. The engine noise was completely muffled by the insulation, leaving only the occasional, extremely faint thud as the tires rolled over expansion joints. The scenery outside blurred past, and the noise barriers on both sides of the viaduct sliced the city into a series of rapidly flickering frames.
The distance from the Third Ring Road to the city center wasn't short, but via the expressway, it was only about an hour's drive. Luo Yang leaned back against the seat, took off his hat, placed it on his lap, and closed his eyes to rest for a while.
He opened his eyes when the car's speed dropped. The skyline view from the viaduct had transformed into dense clusters of buildings on either side.
This was one of the oldest districts in Yuanxing City, yet looking out the window, not a trace of antiquity could be found. Glass-walled office buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, the shop signs on the ground floors were vibrant and colorful, and the pedestrians on the sidewalks were dressed respectably, walking with hurried steps.
The car pulled up in front of a skyscraper.
Luo Yang looked up from the window at the sixty-story tower. In this world, to minimize the risk of aerial attacks, buildings were generally not permitted to be built too high; sixty stories was almost the absolute limit regulated within Shenzhou.
The entire facade of the building was dark gray stone, with sharp lines and no superfluous decoration. The bottom three floors featured a terraced design, and the entrance porch used large slabs of black granite polished to a mirror-like sheen.
Above the main entrance hung four bold, vigorous characters: Lingyun Residence.
The driver moved to the back to pull the door open. Qiu Shubai stepped out first, with Luo Yang following. The noon sun poured down from the top of the building, cut into sharp lines of light and shadow by the architecture. The temperature difference between a foot stepping in the shadow and a foot stepping in the sun could be several degrees.
The two walked into the lobby, met by a rush of cool air mixed with a faint floral scent. The lobby ceiling was seven or eight meters high, and the floor was paved with dark marble. The pattern of each slab was unique, yet they blended together seamlessly.
A young woman in a deep blue uniform hurried over to greet them, a practiced smile on her face.
"Miss Qiu, hello." She bowed slightly. "Mr. Qiu Lingyun is already waiting. This way, please."
Qiu Shubai nodded, then turned toward Luo Yang.
"I need to go change into something more formal," she said. "You go up first."
"Sure."
Luo Yang watched her follow another staff member into a side corridor. Her grayish-white hair flickered at the corner and then vanished.
He turned and headed for the elevator.
The elevator car was mirrored. Luo Yang checked himself in the reflection; he looked decent enough, at least not like someone who had come to crash the party for a free meal.
The elevator doors opened, and the sight on the top floor made him raise an eyebrow slightly.
The entire floor had been opened up, with no partition walls, extending the view from the elevator entrance all the way to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside was the Yuanxing City skyline, the noon sun reflecting off distant glass walls like a series of upright mirrors.
The interior arrangement leaned toward a Western banquet style, but not entirely. Several round tables were scattered about, covered in dark tablecloths and set with exquisite tableware and floral arrangements. A row of high-top bars was set up by the windows, with two bartenders standing behind them, pouring something into glasses.
Quite a few people had already arrived.
They were gathered in small groups; some stood by the windows talking in low voices, while others huddled around a table looking at something. They were dressed in various styles—some in business suits, others in modified Shenzhou-style clothing, and even a few young faces wearing Punisher Academy uniforms.
As soon as Luo Yang stepped out of the elevator, a waiter in a white vest approached with a tray.
On the tray was a flute glass with fine condensation on the surface. The liquid inside was pale gold, with bubbles rising slowly from the bottom and letting out a faint hiss as they broke on the surface.
"Sir, please."
Luo Yang took the glass, feeling the chill against his fingertips. He looked down at the wine, the bubbles refracting tiny glints of light under the chandeliers.
"Is this... champagne?"
And a clearly expensive one at that.
Whether in his past life or this one, he had never drunk such an expensive wine before.
In his past life, he couldn't afford it; in this one, he hadn't been of age until recently.
He brought the glass to his nose. The liquid emitted a faint fruity aroma mixed with a flower he couldn't name. It wasn't pungent; instead, it was like a freshly cut white peach, sweet with a hint of tartness.
He wasn't in a hurry to drink, so he walked slowly through the room with the glass in hand.
His gaze swept over the groups of guests. Most were middle-aged people in their thirties or forties, composed in their demeanor, occasionally dropping familiar corporate names or family surnames in their conversation.
Luo Yang's reputation in Yuanxing City wasn't small, but very few people had ever seen his true face. His identity as an external expert for the Ability Bureau kept him hidden behind a layer of mystery. Combined with the fact that he never appeared at social events, not a single person recognized him now.
In their eyes, he was likely just an unremarkable young scion attending today's reception.
However, someone still took an interest in him.
Luo Yang was standing by a pillar with his champagne glass, aimlessly eyeing several new high-rise developments under construction in the distance. From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure walking toward him.
The newcomer was about his age, well-proportioned, and wearing a finely tailored navy blue mandarin collar jacket. The buttons on the cuffs were dark gold, and a small badge was pinned to his collar.
Luo Yang recognized that badge.
The school crest of Qingtian Academy in the capital.
It was one of the top three Punisher academies in Shenzhou, an existence on a completely different level than the Yuanxing City Punisher Academy.
The man stopped two paces in front of Luo Yang, a perfect smile on his face—neither too warm nor too distant, a sense of propriety cultivated from growing up in social circles.
He bowed slightly and raised his right hand in a standard introductory gesture.
"Zhao Xingcheng, from Qingtian Academy in the capital."
His voice was neither high nor low, his articulation clear, with a slight, rounded lilt characteristic of a capital accent.
"Might I ask how I should address you?"
Rate on N.U.
