Jiang City, Qingyu Association Headquarters.
Eleven council members sat around a long table, with Wang Er occupying the fourth seat.
The central position remained empty. Presiding over the meeting was a young man seated at the head of the left side, who was engrossed in his phone screen, his eyes gleaming with admiration.
“Project it. Let’s all take a look—how’s her strength?” the young man said with a faint smile.
The large screen displayed the scene where Su Mo had encountered the assassin earlier. His simple, brutal, yet effective response drew murmurs of astonishment from the group.
“Taking down an E-rank with one punch? She might already be a D-rank Qi Sea cultivator,” someone speculated.
“No, she’s not at D-rank yet,” the man at the end of the table interjected. “When I attacked her with sword energy, she clearly looked surprised. And her spiritual energy level doesn’t suggest she’s opened a Qi Sea.”
“So she’s just an E-rank who hasn’t even unlocked her Qi Sea?” someone sneered. “Since when do E-ranks have this kind of strength? The assassin she fought was a seasoned killer with extensive combat experience.”
“Her talent is A-rank,” Wang Er suddenly spoke up. “And let’s not forget—she’s the president’s sister. The more unbelievable she seems, the more normal it should be. What’s there to be surprised about?”
The room fell silent.
After a long pause, the young man presiding over the meeting finally spoke. “There will be plenty of opportunities in the future. No need to argue over just this one incident.”
Wang Er frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“The Qingyu Association acknowledges only one president—Qingyu herself. Anyone else who wants to interfere? They’d better have the ability to back it up,” the young man said impassively.
“This was the president’s own decision. Are you really going to defy her?” Wang Er snapped.
“Precisely because it’s her decision, we must be even more cautious. Meeting adjourned.” The young man was the first to leave, leaving the remaining council members exchanging uneasy glances.
“Ever since he became acting president, it’s like he’s a completely different person. He wasn’t like this before,” someone remarked with a sigh.
“Youth. Sitting in a high position for too long can distort one’s sense of self. Not everyone can be as accomplished as the president at such a young age.”
The council members’ resentment toward him wasn’t just because of today’s incident—it had been simmering for a long time.
Wang Er remained seated in silence long after the others had left, his expression troubled.
…
That same day, someone knocked on the villa’s door.
When Su Mo opened it, he found one of Ye Zhongwen’s men waiting outside, informing him that Ye Zhongwen wanted to see him.
Since meeting Ye Zhongwen was the main purpose of this trip, Su Mo didn’t refuse. He followed them into the car, hoping to get it over with quickly and return home.
The car took him to the foot of a small mountain. In the distance, villas dotted the hillside—clearly the residential area of the Ye family.
Hiss— So her family really does own an entire mountain…
Even though he’d known beforehand, seeing it in person still left him stunned.
The road up the mountain was smooth and not too steep. Soon, they arrived at their destination: the Patriarch’s Estate.
The driver dropped him off and left. Su Mo stared at the ancient-style courtyard before him, his heart pounding faster and faster.
“You’re here. Why not come in?” Ye Zhongwen’s voice drifted out from inside.
Gritting his teeth, Su Mo stepped forward and knocked.
“Enter.”
Pushing the door open, Su Mo was surprised to find the interior far from opulent. Instead, it was furnished in a classic ancient style—stone-paved floors, a small koi pond in the courtyard, and a garden filled with rare flowers and plants.
Ye Zhongwen reclined in a lounge chair, reading a book. Beside him sat his current wife, the mother of Ye Qingwen and Ye Qingshu.
When Ye Zhongwen noticed Su Mo entering, his eyes flickered slightly. He set down the antique book in his hands, his expression unreadable.
“You’ve been back for so long, yet you only come to see me now.”
Su Mo said nothing, standing awkwardly in the courtyard.
Unlike meeting others, the man before him was Ye Qingyi’s biological father. No matter how strained their relationship, that fact couldn’t be changed.
“You two should catch up. I’ll go have some dishes prepared,” the beautiful woman said, excusing herself and leaving the courtyard. Now, only Su Mo and Ye Zhongwen remained.
“Don’t just stand there. Come, sit.”
“Mm.” Su Mo sat on the stone stool across from him, his gaze wandering uncomfortably.
“Qingyi, you seem… off. Are you feeling unwell?” Ye Zhongwen studied his face with concern.
“I’m fine.” Su Mo avoided looking directly at him, afraid of giving anything away. He forced himself to appear angry instead.
“Still upset with me, huh?” Ye Zhongwen’s tone softened. He reached out to pat his daughter’s head, but Su Mo instinctively flinched away.
A trace of sorrow flashed in Ye Zhongwen’s eyes. He withdrew his hand and rested it on the table, speaking earnestly. “I admit I was wrong in this matter. But you have to understand—I had my reasons.”
Outwardly, Su Mo remained expressionless, but inwardly, he sneered. Oh, what a great excuse! To side with your current wife’s children and wrong your own daughter—what a ‘model’ man you are.
“Was there something you wanted? If not, I’ll take my leave. I’ve already wasted enough time here,” Su Mo said, keeping his voice steady but unable to hide the edge of resentment.
“I’m your father. You’re my daughter. Is wanting to see my own child not reason enough?” Ye Zhongwen’s voice suddenly sharpened, but he quickly reined in his temper.
“Qingyi, I feel like you’ve changed. Did something happen? If you’re in trouble, tell me. Do you know how happy I was when you called me ‘Dad’ the other day?”
So happy you hung up on me, huh?
Su Mo still remembered staring at his phone in disbelief that day.
But that wasn’t the point. What truly angered him—and made his heart ache for Ye Qingyi—was how Ye Zhongwen had favored Ye Qingwen and her brother before.
This made him shelve his original plan to reconcile the father and daughter. If he didn’t stand firm now, Ye Qingyi would continue being bullied even if they reconciled later.
And that was the last thing he wanted.
Su Mo feigned fury—or perhaps he was furious. He shot to his feet and lashed out, venting his pent-up frustration:
“Where was this concern when I needed it before? Where were you when I was being bullied? Now that her children got beaten, suddenly you remember you’re a father?”
Su Mo let out a cold laugh and continued, “I’m not the same Ye Qingyi anymore—the one who endured humiliation just because they were ‘family.’ From now on, I live for myself. No one has the right to dictate my life—except the people I truly care about.”
With that, he turned and strode away. But the moment he stepped out, a shadowy figure blocked his path. “Miss, you—”
“Move!” Su Mo barked. A dark blue flame, long absent, suddenly flickered to life in his palm—an eerie, illusory aura that stunned the black-clad man.
“Yin Fire… That’s the legendary Yin Fire!”
“Move!” Su Mo roared again. Whether it was because of an unspoken order from Ye Zhongwen or not, the man stepped aside and let him pass.
From a distance, Ye Zhongwen watched his daughter’s retreating figure, his heart heavy with mixed emotions.
After a long silence, he murmured to himself, “Qingyi… has really grown up.”