072 As If Plunged Into an Icy Abyss

Yang Yunrong was certainly not insane. If he truly were mad, how could the Yang family’s leaders possibly trust him with such a high position?

Snatching a client—this sort of thing was neither insignificant nor truly momentous. Zhao Yunting had fought his way to his current status in just thirty years. He was not a man who acted on impulse. He would never fall out with the Yang family over such a matter.

It was precisely this that Yang Yunrong had calculated; relying on his status, he intercepted Zhong Yun.

“You’re Yunqi’s second brother?” Zhong Yun suddenly asked, unconsciously sitting up straighter.

“Yunqi?” Yang Yunrong looked at him again. “She even told you that? It seems your relationship really isn’t ordinary.”

Zhong Yun laughed a little awkwardly. He’d dated a few times before, but had never met any of his girlfriends’ families. For a moment, he had no idea how to handle this.

Moreover, this ‘brother’ before him didn’t look like the type who was easy to get along with.

“We’re just ordinary friends,” Zhong Yun explained, feeling that this was an honest answer. Other than once holding her hand (as detailed in chapter 18), he hadn’t so much as touched her.

“Just ordinary friends, indeed.” There was a half-smile on Yang Yunrong’s face, and he placed extra emphasis on the word ‘ordinary’.

Zhong Yun blinked, pretending not to notice. Liu Yunqi had once told him about her family, mentioning her second brother in particular—his personality was unusual and he was difficult to deal with.

Clearly, Yunqi had anticipated a day like this and had given him fair warning.

Zhong Yun asked, “May I ask what business brings you to me, Young Master Yang?”

He had originally meant to address him as “second brother” to show some warmth, but then remembered Yunqi’s warning: her second brother hated people faking familiarity. If you got it wrong, he’d put you in your place on the spot. He liked being called “Young Master Yang the Second.”

“I’m merely curious. I wanted to meet, in person, the man who could occupy such a place in my sister’s heart. Now I’ve seen you. I’ll be on my way.”

With that, Yang Yunrong stood up and strode toward the door. Suddenly he turned back. “By the way, it seems my sister is looking for you about something.” With those words, he pushed open the door and left.

Following behind Yang Yunrong was Fei Yingming, his expression dark. On his way out, he glanced back at Zhong Yun—a look so chilling it made Zhong Yun shudder.

Zhong Yun sank back onto the sofa, propping his chin on his hand, eyes half-closed, index finger tapping lightly.

After a while, the door opened again and another woman entered, dressed as a flight attendant. “Sir, your chartered jet is ready.”

“My chartered jet?” Zhong Yun was taken aback.

“A gentleman surnamed Yang arranged it for you.”

A sweet smile appeared on the flight attendant’s face as she stole a glance at the young man beside her. Though Zhong Yun was plain-looking, to her, he exuded a rare charm.

Yang Yunrong spared no expense—he had chartered for Zhong Yun an extraordinarily luxurious jet. The vast plane contained only one passenger. The feeling was simply magnificent.

The cabin was lavishly appointed, its spaciousness enough to play basketball in. A huge bed dominated the center; it looked more like a presidential suite than an aircraft cabin.

Zhong Yun reclined on a top-tier sofa, a glass of the finest liquor in hand, a smiling first-class flight attendant at his side, and the scent of exquisite incense drifting from the table.

This truly was the pinnacle of luxury.

As Zhong Yun marveled at the extravagance of the wealthy, he let himself enjoy this rarefied pleasure.

His thoughts drifted back to Yang Yunrong. Was that man really the type to carefully arrange a private jet for someone else? Did he truly believe Zhong Yun was his sister’s boyfriend?

At the thought, Zhong Yun’s heart gave a little leap.

“You may leave—I’d like to rest for a while,” he said to the attendant.

Watching her graceful figure disappear through the door, Zhong Yun dialed a number.

“Hello—”

...

At the third airport on Wol, in the top-floor lounge—

“The décor here is just too tacky. Looks like I’ll have to get someone in to redecorate,” said Yang Yunrong.

This lounge was the most exclusive in the entire building, luxury taken to its utmost.

“It really is too tacky,” Fei Yingming agreed, smiling.

Yang Yunrong glanced up at him. “When my sister was young—she must have been six or seven then…”

The shift in topic was so abrupt that Fei Yingming nearly lost track, but hearing him mention his sister filled his heart with joy.

Yang Yunrong was actually telling him stories from Yunqi’s childhood. What did this mean?

Fei Yingming listened intently.

“She was always especially clever, never naughty, and very cute. The whole family adored her.”

Fei Yingming couldn’t help nodding, picturing what Liu Yunqi must have looked like as a child.

“One time, she saw a stuffed toy in an advertisement and wanted it so much that she tried making one herself. Think about it—she was so young, and the doll she made was a pitiful sight.”

At this, Yang Yunrong laughed, recalling his sister’s clumsy efforts at sewing.

“Later, our eldest brother, unable to bear it, bought her one just like it. But she wouldn’t even look at it—she just clung tightly to the one she’d made herself.”

Later, a few boys from the third branch came by to play. Seeing Yunqi hugging her ugly doll, they made fun of her. Yunqi was furious and argued with them.

Yang Yunrong’s smile faded, a shadow falling across his pale features.

Then those boys snatched Yunqi’s doll and tore it to shreds. Her beloved toy destroyed, Yunqi wept inconsolably.

He paused, then looked up at Fei Yingming. “Can you guess what happened to those boys?”

Fei Yingming’s heart jumped. There was something in Yang Yunrong’s expression he couldn’t quite name. “So what happened to them?”

“My eldest brother and I found them and gave them a beating. Then we were put under house arrest for half a year.”

Yang Yunrong spoke lightly, but Fei Yingming felt a chill. Back when Liu Yunqi was six or seven, he’d have been only eleven or twelve himself. For children to be locked up for half a year over a fight? Unthinkable.

He swallowed. “Those boys must have been badly hurt.”

Yang Yunrong smiled, showing his white teeth. “They were—quite badly. But my brother and I were careful. None of them died.”

Cold sweat broke out on Fei Yingming’s back. He understood Yang Yunrong’s meaning—none of them died, but perhaps living was worse than death for them.

Medicine had advanced, but not every field was fully explored. Some parts of the body, once damaged, can never be healed.

For example, you can replace a kidney, but can you replace a brain? You might get a metal bone, but can you get a metal spine?

Fei Yingming considered himself ruthless—he’d killed before, but only minor figures, people with no power. Killing them meant little.

But to lay hands on another branch of the Fei family—even if he had ten times the courage, he would never dare. Not even as the direct grandson of the current family head.

Family rules were strict, and not just as a saying. Internal strife was the gravest of crimes, one that not even his father could bear the consequences for—much less himself.

In a great clan, the head was far from all-powerful.

Who could imagine what price Yang Bingchang had paid at the time to protect his two sons?

“Whatever my sister loves, I don’t care. But if anyone dares make her cry, I will never let him go.”

Yang Yunrong fixed Fei Yingming with a steely gaze.

In that instant, Fei Yingming felt as though he had been plunged into an icy abyss.