Chapter 60: The Young Master of the Fang Family

The dishes were a feast of rare delicacies, tinged with blood and brutality. Her dark green silk dress coiled around his powerful arm; his suit was as unyielding as stone. Her allure was more entwined than the green itself.

Wearing a face of innocence, she stepped into that familiar, frenzied forbidden place. In the shadow of the screen, she glimpsed the raw masculine vigor of the man. His arm strained against his suit, and when he knelt, his legs appeared even longer.

His gaze, cast downward, was like a swamp deep in the forest—silent, fraught with hidden danger.

The stronger a man is, the more fragile and obedient he becomes—just as she liked.

He had lived for so long, never serving anyone, yet though rough, he possessed a natural talent.

Her legs were gently draped over his broad shoulders as he knelt at her feet.

She adored his lips.

So soft.

"Don't stop..."

Zhong Huayan insisted on making him cry; seeing his face awash with tears, she relished her dominance, unlike any other woman—she wanted to be on top.

And he surrendered.

No matter what she did, in Fu Yanyan's heart, she was always an ideal—like a verdant mountain and clear waters, a dose of pain-relieving morphine.

In the end, under the influence of alcohol, her whole body collapsed in weakness.

This body, she thought, must be trained another day—it was too frail. Her previous body had been forged through hardship since childhood, naturally more resilient than this tender, fragrant form.

Fu Yanyan always kept a respectful distance from her.

Men are like this—the more they love, the more honest they become.

He didn't even dare sleep in the same bed, only stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, smoking while the rain pelted the gardenias covering the mountain outside.

Three years ago, he had deliberately bought land in the capital—ten mountains, all planted with fragrant gardenias.

Whenever his mind was restless and irritable, gazing at the sea of white flowers brought him calm. He had often wondered: was another kind of life possible? But having come this far, there was no retreat.

The pressure and inner torment borne by those in high positions is unimaginable to ordinary people.

He didn't even have the right to regret; from birth, his fate was predetermined.

Advance or perish.

If, in the end, when the curtain falls, he could help Huayan realize her dreams, would that not be a form of grace?

On the day of the Haiyan Arts Festival, she invited several brothers. Though their work kept them busy, they found time to attend.

Her second brother's research project received a special commendation from superiors; her third brother's e-sports finals were scheduled for the following month. It seemed everything was moving toward hope.

Zhong Huayan would rather live as someone else forever than witness her family's tears. She was not unfeeling; it was precisely because she valued emotions so deeply that her pain was profound, her hatred boundless.

She spotted Xu Yuan, who no longer seemed arrogant and domineering, but quietly prepared her act backstage.

Dragging her white dress, Xu Yuan approached Zhong Huayan—not to provoke, as before, but to extend her hand.

"Li Yanyan, this time we compete openly and fairly. If I lose, I will apologize in front of everyone and withdraw from school myself."

Zhong Huayan was surprised by Xu Yuan's transformation; it was as if she had matured overnight.

What a pity...

Fate truly plays tricks.

Zhong Huayan reached out and took her hand. The two locked eyes; Xu Yuan’s face, for once, showed no anger, only exuberant smiles.

The Haiyan Arts Festival was grander than ever; nearly every talented young person in the capital was invited to perform. Below, cameras packed the audience. To apologize publicly here would spread the news across the city, making tomorrow’s headlines.

The concert hall at Haiyan University was packed; the front rows filled with members of the Capital Arts Association.

To stand out would mean, without exception, becoming a member of the association—and gaining more opportunities to earn awards.

"Welcome, everyone, to Haiyan University Arts Festival. This is our school’s fiftieth music and dance festival. We’re honored that yesterday, the son of a renowned pianist, the genius musician Fang Wenjin, returned from overseas! Today, he opens the festival for us!"

As the host finished, the hall erupted in shrill screams.

Backstage, Zhong Huayan watched as, with the lights dimmed, a figure stepped out from behind the black curtain into the spotlight.

He was thin, pale, yet upright as a pine—so frail and cold!

When the camera focused on his face, the hall buzzed: his features were strikingly spirited yet gaunt.

Yet unmistakably handsome, especially as he sat on the piano bench, immersed in his craft, his frail body infused with boundless power.

His fingers were unnaturally white, nails neatly trimmed, his attire simple and unpretentious, yet exuding a rare, transcendent aura.

Zhong Huayan felt this man was familiar, but couldn’t place him.

He played a piece she knew well—his father Fang Yue’s signature song—but he had woven his own rhythm into it.

The audience raised their phones, their lights shining, celebrating the exuberance, the fearless madness, the fleeting youth—applauding, exulting!

At that moment, the man at the piano was no longer frail; he seemed a deity of faith, completing a flawless performance under countless admiring gazes.

Zhong Huayan had to admit—this level could not be reached by money or effort alone.

He was truly gifted.

He uttered not a word from start to finish; after playing, he faced the fans with calm indifference, packed up and left quietly.

Flanking him were Fang family security, holding back the surging crowd.

Zhong Huayan sensed a sorrow—the piece, his eyes, were filled with sadness.

“Thank you so much to Fang Wenjin for his piano performance. As everyone knows, he has spent most of his time abroad; it’s rare he suddenly returns to perform for us, truly a treat.”

The host looked up to see that Fang Wenjin had not only returned, but was seated among the audience, not having left.

The school forums buzzed about the return of the Fang heir.

[Ahhh! Fang Wenjin—he’s even thinner now. I remember he went abroad for depression treatment?]

[He finally came back. Last time at Jingfu University, his performance was scheduled, but he didn’t show up!]

[He’s from Haiyan University; I heard he studied for half a year before going abroad. He has a reputation in piano circles overseas.]

[Of course! His father is so accomplished, his mother’s a celebrity too! And he actually came to Haiyan University to watch the show?]

Zhong Huayan scrolled through the forums on her phone.

She watched the crowd sweep past the camera lens.

Before long, the doors at the back of the hall, already closed, were opened.