The sun rose over Mount Jing, casting long, sharp shadows across the limestone cliffs. Inside the master suite, the silence was absolute—a stark contrast to the chaotic, pain-filled nights that usually haunted the residence.
Mu Feichi opened his eyes. For the first time in three years, the world didn't look like a blurred mess of gray. The agonizing pressure behind his eyes had vanished, replaced by a clarity so sharp it felt like a new weapon.
He sat up, his gaze immediately sweeping the room. It was empty. The girl who had treated him like a broken machine was gone. But on the nightstand lay a single silver needle and a piece of paper with a list of herbs written in a precise, elegant script.
A low, rare chuckle escaped his throat. "Daring," he whispered, feeling the strength returning to his limbs.
Outside the door, Qi Yuan and Feng Rui were waiting like statues. When the doors slid open and Mu Feichi stepped out—fully dressed in his midnight-blue military uniform, his aura restored to its peak, lethal intensity—the two men nearly forgot to salute.
"Marshal! You... you slept for six hours straight," Feng Rui stammered, his eyes wide.
"I did," Mu Feichi said, his voice cold and commanding once more. "Where is Shen Xi?"
"She left at dawn, Sir," Qi Yuan reported. "She requested a military escort to the Shen villa. She said she was going to 'collect the interest' on a debt."
Mu Feichi's eyes darkened with predatory interest. He walked toward the elevator, buttoning his white gloves. "Then why are we standing here? I want to see how my 'physician' handles her prey."
At the Shen villa, the morning was far from peaceful. Shen Yuanfeng and Liang Xiujin were in the study, frantically discussing how to handle the "scandal" of Shen Xi being taken by the military.
"If the public finds out she's involved with the Young Marshal, we can use it," Liang Xiujin hissed, her eyes glinting with greed. "We can say she's his mistress! We can demand a 'bride price' that will double our company's stock!"
CRASH!
The iron gates of the villa were forced open by two heavy military jeeps. Shen Xi stepped out of the lead vehicle. She was no longer wearing the muddy rags from the mountain; she had changed into a sharp, tailored black suit that Qi Yuan had provided, her hair pulled back into a high, cold ponytail.
She walked into the living room where the family was gathered. Behind her, four soldiers in full tactical gear stood like stone pillars, their rifles held across their chests.
"Shen Xi! You dare return after shaming us?" Shen Yuanfeng roared, though his voice wavered when he saw the soldiers.
Shen Xi ignored him entirely. She walked to the safe in the corner of the room—the one containing her late mother's original research and the deeds to the Yun estate.
"I'm not here to talk," Shen Xi said, her voice devoid of emotion. "I'm here for the inheritance. You have five minutes to hand over the keys and the original manuscripts of the 'Neural Project.' If a single page is missing, the military police will begin a full audit of the Shen Group's finances for the last decade."
"You... you can't do this!" Shen Ruo cried, running down the stairs. "That research is mine! I won the award!"
Shen Xi turned, her gaze landing on her sister like a predator looking at a rabbit. "You won an award for a lie. My system has already flagged fourteen fatal errors in your published version. If the medical board sees the original, you won't just lose your trophy—you'll lose your life in the medical industry."
"Give it to her, Yuanfeng!" Liang Xiujin whispered, terrified by the silent, armed men. "Let her take the old papers. We can deal with her later."
As Shen Yuanfeng reached for the keys with shaking hands, a shadow fell over the doorway. The temperature in the room plummeted. The soldiers instantly snapped to attention, their heels clicking in perfect unison.
Mu Feichi stepped into the room. He didn't say a word, but his presence was so suffocating that the socialites and servants nearby felt their knees buckle. He walked straight to Shen Xi, ignoring everyone else. He reached out and adjusted the lapel of her suit jacket, his movements slow and possessively intimate.
"Is the trash giving you trouble, Doctor?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent a shiver through the room.
Shen Xi didn't flinch. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his stormy gray ones. "Just a minor delay, Marshal. They were just about to hand over what belongs to me."
Mu Feichi turned his gaze toward Shen Yuanfeng. The look in his eyes was enough to make the older man's heart stop.
"Is that so, Director Shen?" Mu Feichi asked. "Because I'm a man with very little patience. And when I'm bored, I tend to look for things—or families—to destroy."
Shen Yuanfeng's face turned gray. He dropped the keys onto the glass coffee table with a clatter. "Take them! Just... just take them and go!"
Shen Xi picked up the keys, her fingers brushing against Mu Feichi's gloved hand. For a split second, their eyes locked—the cold, calculating surgeon and the unstoppable God of War.
"Let's go," she said. "The air in here is starting to smell like rot."
As they walked out, Mu Feichi draped his heavy military coat over her shoulders, a gesture of protection that branded her in front of everyone. "Qi Yuan," he called out over his shoulder without looking back.
"Sir?"
"Seal this house. No one enters or leaves until the audit is complete. I want to know exactly how much of my doctor's money they've been spending."