The blue light of the monitors flickered out as Lu Zhentian's hand moved with a decisive finality, cutting the power to the holographic displays. The room plunged into a soft, natural twilight. Ye Wanwan reached for the stylus, her movements mechanical, but Zhentian's grip on her wrist was like a heated shackle.
"The world isn't going to end if you close your eyes for four hours, Wanwan," Zhentian whispered, his voice a low, commanding vibration near her ear.
"I have two more servers to purge," she countered, her voice raspy.
"And I have one fiancé to preserve," he replied shamelessly. Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms. Wanwan's breath hitched; her body was so cold that the sudden contact with his "Human Furnace" chest felt like a shock of electricity. She tried to struggle, but her limbs were heavy, and the warmth radiating from him was a sedative she couldn't fight. He carried her to the lounge in the study, laying her down on the velvet sofa and covering her with his own heavy coat. He didn't leave. He sat on the floor beside her, his hand resting on hers, acting as a constant, living heater. Under the watchful eye of the Asura, the Lethal God finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The sun was high in the sky when Wanwan finally descended the grand staircase. The house felt different—cleaner, yet fragile. In the dining room, the scent of congee and steamed buns filled the air. Ye Shijun and Lin Shuyin were already there, their faces pale but filled with a new, profound reverence for the daughter they had once pitied. As Wanwan took her seat, Shuyin reached out, her hand trembling as she touched Wanwan's.
"Wanwan... we know now," Shuyin whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Zhentian told us what you did in the basement... and what you've been doing for the company all night. We were so blind. We thought we had to protect you, but you've been the one protecting us."
Shijun nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "This family owes you its life, daughter. Whatever you need—whatever authority you want—it is yours."
Wanwan looked at her parents, her expression softening by a fraction of a degree. "I don't need titles. I only need this family to stay sharp. The danger isn't over."
"It certainly isn't," a deep voice purred from the doorway. Lu Zhentian walked in, looking refreshed and dangerously handsome in a dark silk shirt. He walked straight to Wanwan's side, ignoring the five brothers who were already seated and glaring at him. He didn't take an empty chair; instead, he leaned over Wanwan, picking up a piece of fruit from her plate and feeding it to her with a look of utter, shameless devotion.
"Master Lu!" Ye Yan slammed his hand on the table, his face turning a bright shade of envious red. "There are other chairs! Stop hovering over our sister like she's a piece of property!"
"I'm not hovering," Zhentian replied, his eyes never leaving Wanwan's face as he watched her take a bite. "I'm monitoring her recovery. Her temperature is still 0.5 degrees below my target. She needs more 'direct' warmth." He then reached out and draped his arm over the back of Wanwan's chair, pulling her slightly closer to his side.
"You're just being a pest!" Ye Chen snapped, his idol-perfect face twisted in a pout. "Wanwan, come sit by me. I've had the kitchen prepare the specific bird's nest soup you liked yesterday."
"She's fine where she is," Zhentian stated, his golden eyes flashing with a possessive glint that silenced the table. "In fact, she's so fine that we're going on a little field trip after breakfast. Right, Wanwan?"
Wanwan wiped her mouth with a napkin, her obsidian eyes turning cold. "The Han Group. They've been holding the patent for our neural-link tech that Aurora leaked to them six months ago. Today, we take it back."
The brothers stood up in unison, their protective instincts finally finding a target. "We're going with you," Ye Mo commanded.
The "Business Raid" was not conducted in a boardroom, but at the Han Group's high-tech manufacturing facility on the outskirts of the city. Three black SUVs roared up to the gates, led by the Ye brothers. But as they stepped out, the sound of rhythmic thumping filled the air. A matte-black military helicopter, bearing the Lu family crest, descended from the clouds, landing squarely in the middle of the Han Group's private helipad.
The doors slid open, and Lu Zhentian stepped out, wind whipping his hair, looking every bit like a King of War. He walked toward Wanwan, who was already standing at the entrance, her white lab coat fluttering around her.
"You're late, Zhentian," she said, her voice a cool silk.
"I had to pick up some 'leverage' from the Ministry of Defense," Zhentian replied, gesturing to the heavy briefcases his men were carrying. He stepped up beside her, his hand settling on the small of her back—a gesture that made the Han Group's security guards freeze in terror. "Shall we go in and show these thieves what happens when you steal from a Phoenix?"
Inside, the Han Group's CEO, a middle-aged man named Han Jingsheng, was waiting with a smug smile, surrounded by his legal team. "Miss Ye, Master Lu... to what do I owe this visit? If it's about the patent, I'm afraid the law is on our side."
Wanwan didn't sit down. She walked to the center of the room and tossed a single tablet onto the glass table. "The law is on the side of the creator, Mr. Han. Not the thief. That tablet contains the source code for the 'malfunction' I've just triggered in your entire production line. In exactly ten minutes, your 'stolen' technology will melt the very machines that are building it."
Han Jingsheng's face turned the color of ash. "You... you can't do that! That's illegal!"
"Illegal?" Zhentian stepped forward, his presence filling the room with a suffocating heat. He leaned over the CEO, his shadow engulfing the man. "What's illegal is targeting my fiancée's family. My men are currently outside with a federal seizure warrant for every server in this building. You have two choices: sign the patent back to the Ye family for zero dollars, or I'll have this facility turned into a parking lot by sundown."
The five Ye brothers stood behind Wanwan, their arms crossed, looking like a wall of inevitable doom. The "Face-Slapping" was so absolute that Han Jingsheng's lawyers didn't even open their mouths; they simply looked at the floor.
"Sign it," Wanwan commanded, her eyes like frozen daggers.
As the CEO's hand trembled over the document, Zhentian leaned down to Wanwan's ear, his voice a low, lovesick purr that only she could hear. "You were magnificent, little Phoenix. Now, since we've finished early... how about that private lunch I promised? I know a place that's exactly 38 degrees Celsius."
Wanwan looked at him, a faint, dangerous light in her eyes. "Only if you stop calling me 'little Phoenix' in front of my brothers."
"No deal," Zhentian grinned, pulling her closer. "I like the way they look when they're about to explode."