"Is that so."
Li Yuntang's voice was deep, his expression inscrutable as he hooked his lips.
The next instant, the sound of a fist making intimate contact with flesh was muffled like thunder, mixed with the crisp snap of breaking bones.
The man who had just been full of arrogance twisted his features in pain, screaming as he rolled onto the ground in an instant.
"Master Li, we..."
The two bodyguards, terrified, exchanged glances, not daring to step forward, and consciously kept their heads very low.
The person they were restraining was no longer a woman sought for their young master's pleasure but had become a hot potato that spelled disaster.
"Get lost."
As if granted amnesty, the two immediately shrank away five meters, silent as cicadas in winter alongside their fallen young master.
He halted in front of her, with his dark, blue-tinged pupils reflecting only her disheveled figure.
Yan Xiaye's eyes reddened, her form exposed under his deep gaze.
She could only try to clutch her torn clothes, desperately maintaining her precarious dignity.
His suit coat, bearing his warmth, descended from above, his cool aura enveloping her.
"Can you stand up?"
She nodded subconsciously and stumbled uncontrollably as she stood up.
Li Yuntang took a long stride, swept the little woman who had fallen into his arms into a horizontal hold, and kicked away Yan Er as he left the private room.
Along the way, even though Li Yuntang chose the nearest emergency exit, it still caught the attention of everyone nearby.
Yan Xiaye's cheeks blushed slightly, her whole body stiffened, yet she knew this was not the time to be strong-willed.
After some mental preparation, she forced down some of the complexity in her heart and leaned heavily against the man's well-defined, solid chest in a daze.
Through the thin summer shirt, his scent was so distinct it couldn't be ignored.
Having not slept the previous night and now under the influence of alcohol, Yan Xiaye's heartbeat raced.
"Younger Uncle..."
"Hmm."
He looked down at her; his black eyes, cool and moist, dimmed their brilliance, but even just standing there, he exuded an air of depth and unfathomability, like one born to be admired, atop the cloud-piercing summit.
The gap between the two of them was too vast; she couldn't fathom it and was even less able to see through him.
The cool night breeze brushed against her cheek but couldn't dispel the heat spreading within her.
As if possessed, she murmured in her tipsy state, "Younger Uncle, do you pity me?"
As she waited for an answer, she looked up at him from below, her gaze focused on his flawlessly perfect profile, her heart fluctuating with no place to land.
"If I say I do, would that make you sad?"
Yan Xiaye's drunken eyes dimmed slightly, and she answered insincerely, "…No."
Perhaps other women wouldn't mind being sympathized with by the strong, but she recoiled from such pity.
In the past five years, the reason she managed to carve out a semblance of a person within the prison walls was not only her resolve to find her child but also her determination to sever ties with her past foolish and pitiful self once and for all.
But even though she had tried desperately, in the eyes of a man as blessed as Li Yuntang...
She probably still appeared as a negligible clown, not worth mentioning.
"Yan Xiaye," he said in a low and magnetic voice as he opened the car door, leaned in to place her in the passenger seat, and secured her seatbelt before looking into her eyes and saying composedly, "I am not pitying you, and you don't need anyone's pity."
Having said this, Li Yuntang stepped back, walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door, and started the sedan.
Yan Xiaye looked away, drawing the corners of her lips upward in self-mockery, silently severing the faint stirring in her heart.
Years ago, she wouldn't have dared to entertain any outlandish hopes even when she was pure and innocent, let alone now, when she is nothing more than a prisoner released upon completing her sentence.
Reality was cruel and frightening, yet it was precisely this that allowed her to remain clear-headed under his overpowering charm.
In his presence, she always felt utterly ashamed.
Her body burning and her mind muddled, she gradually lost control over herself and her consciousness slipped into darkness.
In the driver's seat, the calm and handsome man reached over to pull up the coat sliding off the slumbering girl's shoulder and glanced at the persistently vibrating, dream-disturbing cell phone beside her.
In the dim light of the car, the name Li Beicheng was clear on the screen.
The man appeared thoughtful as he looked again at Yan Xiaye's unsettled sleep, and just before her brow furrowed, he hung up the phone in time.
"Tut-tut-tut..."
On the other end, Li Beicheng put down his phone with a dark expression, refusing the fruit Yan Shuirou pressed to his lips.
Perhaps it was the drastic change in Yan Xiaye since her release that unsettled him, despite his earlier insistence to Yan Er that he wasn't to take things seriously, he still felt restless since sunset, sensing something slipping from his control.
So when the phone rang, he didn't notice Yan Shuirou biting her lip, hesitating to speak, and answered the call without a glance, "Yan Xiaye, how dare you hang up on me..."
"That little miss has Second Master Li's backing, what would she not dare to do?" Yan Er immediately felt the freshly bandaged ribs ache again at the mention of Yan Xiaye.
Who would have thought that Second Master Li, usually so refined and elegant, could be as ruthless as a desperado once he got going?
For a moment, he really thought he wouldn't live to see the sun the next day.
Hearing the loud voice from the phone, Li Beicheng frowned slightly, subtly erasing that nearly imperceptible trace of regret in his heart and proceeded with a hint of mirth in his voice, "Yan Er, your words are cryptic, what business has my younger uncle got to do with this?"
"Talk about being wrongfully beaten. Sure, I was a bit rough with her, but that was after your secretary said I could do whatever I wanted, and now look at me, my old man's pressing me to come home and accept family discipline!" Yan Er didn't bite on his thread, venting his grievances instead, "I don't care, you owe me big for tonight—the contract, you give me a five percent cut, non-negotiable!"
"Wait, what are you even talking about..."
Before he could finish, the call was angrily disconnected.
Li Beicheng put away his phone, baffled, connecting the dots in his mind and suddenly turning to look at Yan Shuirou, who sat quietly with her head down.
A sudden heaviness in his heart, he softened his tone albeit unable to mask the interrogative essence, "Shuirou, what exactly is going on?"
"Beicheng, I'm sorry."
Yan Shuirou, having overheard fragments of the conversation and confused yet resentful of Second Master Li's intervention,
believed that had he not appeared in time, by the time Yan Xiaye would have been utterly defiled by Yan Er, even if Li Beicheng might rage, ultimately, she couldn't believe he wouldn't stand by her side for Ya'er's sake.
At this thought, a spasm of unwillingness gripped her heart, her complexion going ashen as she spoke with a quivering, tearful voice, "I went to see Second Young Master Yan as you suggested, but there were so many people there, I was too embarrassed to speak plainly, which led to Second Young Master Yan's misunderstanding and nearly harmed Xiaye..."