Chapter 1: You're Not Welcome Here
A sudden flash of lightning streaked across the sky, jolting me awake. My eyes snapped open just as a deafening clap of thunder followed. Covering my ears, I shot upright in bed. Through the dim light in my room, I glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table—8 a.m.
Damn it! After finishing my college entrance exams yesterday, I'd been so physically and mentally exhausted that I fell asleep the moment I hit the bed. Ten straight hours of sleep—just like that!
I quickly got out of bed and rushed to the balcony to check the sky. That's when I saw a jet-black, limited-edition Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly driving through the automatic, gold-trimmed steel gates of the Leng family mansion.
Another bolt of lightning illuminated the cloudy sky, and the early summer rain came pouring down, the heavy droplets pounding against the earth in rhythm with the muffled rumbles of thunder.
Leaning over the balcony railing, I peered down at the garden below. The Rolls-Royce's driver stepped out, opened an umbrella, and walked to the backseat to escort the passengers. Aunt Yun, the Leng family's housekeeper, also came out with an umbrella to greet the guests. From my vantage point on the third floor, I couldn't see their faces clearly, but I could tell it was a man and a woman.
Curiosity piqued, I headed back to my room, washed up quickly, and pondered the situation. Who would be visiting the Leng family so early in the morning? Should I go down for breakfast? My stomach was already growling in protest.
After freshening up, I put on a white chiffon dress with a floral print. Just as I finished, there was a knock on the door. "Miss Nuan, the master has requested your presence downstairs. There are guests," Aunt Yun's voice called out.
"Okay," I replied, my confusion growing. Guests weren't unusual at the Leng household, but Uncle Leng had never formally asked me to greet them before.
Opening the door, I gave Aunt Yun a polite smile before making my way to the staircase. As I reached the landing on the second floor, a loud crash rang out—the sound of a teacup shattering against the floor.
"Get out! This is my house! You have no right to be here!" Leng Haoran's furious roar echoed through the luxurious space, shaking the very air around me.
My steps faltered, and my heart sank. Who could provoke Haoran—a man known for his refined manners and gentlemanly demeanor—into such an outburst?
Growing up as his childhood friend and now his almost-fiancée, I had never seen him lose his temper, let alone resort to shouting. What was happening today?
"It was I who invited them!" Uncle Leng's voice, as authoritative and thunderous as ever, rang out. "This is the Leng family's house! Who stays and who leaves is for me to decide! If anyone doesn't like it, they're welcome to leave!"
Alarmed by the escalating tension, I hurried downstairs, determined to diffuse the situation despite the oppressive atmosphere filling the grand living room.
From the doorway, I could see Uncle Leng seated on the sofa, a middle-aged woman with soft features beside him. Across from them sat a tall, unfamiliar man, his sharp profile exuding an air of icy indifference. Meanwhile, Haoran sat in a single armchair off to the side, his chest heaving with barely contained anger.
"Uncle Leng," I called out softly, summoning my courage as I stepped forward.
"Oh, Nuan Nuan, come here," Uncle Leng said, his stern expression softening into a kind smile. "Let me introduce you. This is Aunt Hong, and this is your eldest brother, Leng Mofan." His tone became affectionate as he continued, "Her name is Qu Nuan, the daughter of Qu Yunxiang and He Jie. Haoran and Nuan Nuan will be engaged during the National Day holiday."
I gasped, my breath hitching as my eyebrows knit together. In an instant, I understood why Haoran had been so enraged. Uncle Leng had brought home his mistress and illegitimate son!
Cold Madam Lu Xiaowei was still alive, wasn't she? But I'd heard from my mother that before marrying Lu Xiaowei, Uncle Leng had been entangled with this woman—Hong Hong—for years.