Chapter 30: In the Palm of One's Hand

The conversation came to a halt. Jiang Zhiyan’s mood darkened visibly, and he slowly loosened his grip on Lu Zhi’s arm. Lu Zhi retracted his hand with measured grace, his lips curling slightly, but he said nothing more. A short while later, Jiang Zhiyan departed, looking utterly dejected.

*****

In the backyard, Yan Xi was peering out of the window, desperately trying to gauge the situation outside. Suddenly catching sight of Lu Zhi, she immediately pulled back, shrinking away in trepidation.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and Lu Zhi entered. He brushed aside the beaded curtain and fixed his gaze upon her. The young girl sat with stiff, forced composure, casting a cold, defiant, yet pitiably fragile glance in his direction.

"What is it?" Lu Zhi asked. "Are you still pining for him?"

Yan Xi’s heart hammered against her ribs. Hearing his words, she realized he must have seen her watching earlier, so she remained silent. In an instant, the man raised his hand. The seven or eight women in black who had been guarding Qinglian and Taohong promptly withdrew.

Though Yan Xi tried to remain steady, panic flickered in her eyes. Her voice was soft, trembling, yet stubborn: "What do you want?"

Lu Zhi strolled toward her, sitting down beside her with a languid air. He leaned back against the chair, his eyelashes lowered, casting a dark, imposing shadow over his eyes. He answered her, but his words were soundless; his lips, however, clearly formed two distinct words.

The young girl saw them clearly, and her face turned a vibrant, visible shade of red. She immediately averted her gaze, turning to the side. Yan Xi clenched her hands, struggling to keep her composure, though her breathing grew significantly more rapid than usual. She knew, to some extent, that for the moment, he was only teasing her. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on her, and she could not simply ignore it. His eyes were cold, filled with desire, and yet ruthless, as if a fire were burning within them whenever he looked at her.

Before she could hear what he might say next, trouble brewed again. Footsteps sounded from outside. If it had been merely footsteps, it might not have drawn Yan Xi’s attention, as there were others in the residence. It was the voice that caught her.

"Brother Lu?"

Though the tone was not loud, Yan Xi recognized it instantly. It was Jiang Zhiyan!

Not only her, but the man beside her—perhaps even a split second before she did—evidently recognized the voice as well. A flash of impatience and darkness crossed his eyes. He stood up, and his large hand clamped over the girl’s mouth.

Yan Xi was caught off guard and let out an involuntary whimper. She had not been sitting close to him, but in an instant, his tall frame loomed over her, blocking her view. The man’s eyes held a clear, unmistakable threat, his presence so overwhelming that it made the very air feel scorched.

He raised an eyebrow, his thin lips parting slightly as he whispered in a raspy voice, "Go on, cry out."

Yan Xi’s face was already flushed crimson. Trapped in his embrace, her waist held tight, her soft bosom pressed against his sturdy chest, she was unable to move. She was forced to tilt her small face upward, glaring at him with indignation. He was simultaneously pressing her into submission, forbidding her from making a sound, and goading her with provocative words.

"I’ve found him an eyesore for a long time. Give me a reason to deal with him, hmm? Go on, cry out!"

He gritted his teeth, his voice low, yet a trace of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Yan Xi, reduced to tears by his antics, scolded, "Madman!"

The man chuckled at this, and a moment later, a full smile bloomed across his face. It was a radiant smile, strikingly beautiful—as dazzling as the scorching sun, as flawless as white jade, as unreachable as moonlight. It was so gentle and lovely that it stirred the heart, evoking images of a soft breeze or a mountain spring… all the beauty of the world.

He possessed a face unparalleled in this world, yet it made one lament the unfairness of fate—that such a face should belong to a madman, a person of such vile character and wicked nature!

The smile gradually faded. He lowered his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and leaned his handsome