The doors had barely stopped shaking after Shin Ling's dramatic exit when the silence began to thicken — heavy, suffocating, echoing off every marble surface in the room.
Lily sat trembling in Han's arms, her tears soft and silent, the very picture of heartbreak.
And then, her father — Mr. Xinyu Liang — rose from his chair with the kind of fury that could silence an entire empire.
His expression was grave, controlled, but his tone cut like a blade as he turned to Weiming Shulong.
"Mr. Weiming Shulong," he said, his voice cold, "this… display was nothing short of a humiliation. My daughter has been disgraced in your home."
Weiming didn't reply — not yet. He only stared back, his face carved in ice.
Xinyu continued, each word deliberate, heavy with veiled threat.
"My daughter may be many things, but she is not to be treated like this. I thought the Shulong family understood decorum. Clearly, I was mistaken."
He paused, letting the words sink in before adding smoothly, "Perhaps it's best if we take our leave tonight. I wouldn't want her to endure any more… embarrassment."
It was the perfect move — a businessman's dagger wrapped in paternal concern.
Because under the pretense of outrage, his true intent gleamed sharp and clear:
If the Liang's walked out, so did the merger deal — the one that Weiming had fought tooth and nail to secure.
A flicker of worry — quick and hard — passed through Weiming's eyes before it vanished behind his stony mask.
Lily lowered her gaze, tears slipping down her cheek, the very image of innocence shattered.
And then—
SMACK.
The sharp crack of skin meeting skin echoed across the hall.
Everyone's heads turned towards the source.
Han stood there, his face burning with rage, his hand still raised from the strike. Lihyun's head had snapped to the side, a red mark blooming across his cheek.
"You dare humiliate my sister like that?" Han's voice trembled with fury. "In front of everyone?"
Lihyun didn't react. Didn't even lift his head.
"You're not a man," Han spat, before turning to Lily, his expression softening instantly. "Come on, Lily. We're leaving."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively, pulling her close as she sobbed quietly into his chest. Together, they walked out — her heels clicking weakly against the marble, her face hidden against her brother's coat.
The double doors closed behind them with a deep, echoing thud.
Lihua sat frozen in her seat, her fingers trembling against her lap. And then — all at once — her composure broke.
Tears filled her eyes, spilling freely as she buried her face in her hands. "This wasn't supposed to happen…" she whispered brokenly. "Not like this… She's just a child…"
Mrs. Chen reached over, trying to soothe her, but Lihua only shook her head helplessly. "I thought — I thought I could make it right… and now…" Her voice cracked, a mother's guilt raw in her throat. She watched as the last Liang Family member left the house.
Meilin's own eyes filled with tears. "Mom, please…" she murmured, rubbing her back softly.
But Lihua barely heard her. Her gaze drifted to the empty seat Lily had left behind — the untouched walnut cupcakes still resting there — and she pressed her hand to her mouth, sobbing quietly.
---
Weiming rose.
Slowly. Deliberately. The kind of slow that made everyone else still.
"Lihyun." His voice was quiet but beneath it was thunder. "Come to the study. NOW!"
The words hung in the air like a verdict.
Every muscle in Lihyun's body locked. His eyes flickered briefly, a flash of something raw, something fearful before he schooled his face into stillness.
"Yes, Father." His voice was barely a whisper as he followed his father down the corridor.
No one spoke. No one dared.
But Lihua's head snapped up, her tears drying instantly into panic. She knew that tone. She knew what "the study" meant.
Her heart pounded as she reached for her phone with shaking hands.
---
She dialed quickly.
It rang once. Twice.
Then a deep, calm voice answered, "Mother?"
"Jinhai," she breathed, her voice breaking. "Please come. Everything has gone terribly wrong."
A pause. "What happened?"
"Your father—he's called Lihyun to the study." Her voice trembled as tears spilled again. "You know what that means. Please, Jinhai. Only you can stop him."
The line went silent for half a heartbeat.
Then Jinhai's voice, cold and sharp as a blade:
"I'm on my way."
Lihua closed her eyes, whispering a prayer under her breath as the soft hum of the violinist packing up was the only sound left in the shattered quiet.
_________________________
JINHAI'S POV:
The camera lights flared against Jinhai's eyes, but his mind was elsewhere — halfway tuned out of the director's voice as they ran the same scene for the fifth time.
"Cut! Once more, Jinhai! Let's get more intensity this time," the director called.
He nodded absently, forcing a smile. He'd always been good at pretending calm.
Until his phone buzzed.
Mother.
The smile vanished. He excused himself from the set, voice clipped. "Give me a minute."
He turned his back to the lights and pressed answer.
"Mom?"
"Jinhai—" Her voice broke before the second word. "Please come home. Everything's gone wrong. Your father… he's called Lihyun to the study."
Jinhai froze. The air around him seemed to thin. "What happened?"
A muffled sob. "Not over the phone, just come—hurry!"
He didn't wait for more. The line cut, and so did his restraint. He ripped off his mic, ignoring the startled looks around him.
"Hey! Jinhai, we're still shooting—!"
"Emergency," he said shortly, already striding out. "Family emergency."
----------------------
Flashback — 10 years old.
He was ten again. The study smelled of leather, paper, and rage.
"Your grades have fallen, Lihyun!" his father's voice thundered, each word a blow by itself.
The whip cracked, slicing through the silence.
Lihyun — fifteen, trembling but proud — didn't cry out. His jaw was clenched, his eyes defiant even as the skin on his back split.
"Father, please!" Jinhai had screamed, running forward. "It's just one test—"
"Stay out of this!"
But he didn't. Because he had seen this happen before and wouldn't, he couldn't stand and watch anymore. The next lash came down, and Jinhai threw himself in front of it. Pain burst across his shoulder like fire.
Weiming froze, whip hanging midair. "You—what do you think you're doing?"
Tears streamed down Jinhai's face, but he didn't move. "If you're going to hit someone, hit me too. It's my fault—I distracted him when he studied."
A stunned silence followed. Then, slowly, Weiming turned away. The whip dropped.
And for the first time, Lihyun looked at him with something unreadable in his eyes — guilt, love, shame — all tangled into one.
---
Back to Present
Jinhai's jaw clenched as he blinked the memory away. The road stretched ahead, empty and cold.
"Not again," he whispered. "Not this time."
He pressed the accelerator harder, the car engine roaring in response.
As the mansion's familiar outline appeared on the horizon, another thought crept into his mind — softer, but somehow heavier.
Lily.
He had seen her only twice — once at the gala, once in the garden before the engagement dinner. Both times, she had been polite, gentle, and strangely calm — like a girl trying to hold herself together in a storm.
And now, if his mother's voice had sounded that broken, it meant she had been caught in the crossfire.
"Please don't let her be hurt," he muttered under his breath. "Please, just… don't let her be hurt."
The gates of the Shulong estate came into view, the iron glinting under the moonlight. He didn't wait for the guards — the car screeched through the half-open gates, gravel spraying behind him.
The mansion's lights burned in the distance, warm and golden — but tonight, they looked like warning fires.
Jinhai slammed the car door open and ran. His heartbeat drowned out everything else.
Not again, he thought as he reached the front steps. Not my brother. Not her.