Chapter 262: Jealous
Lian Cheng leaned against the car door in silence.
Lin Lanfeng’s eyes were heavy, and he smoked heavily.
A long speech was delivered with a firm tone, but an eerie silence fell within the car.
Under normal circumstances, large families value blood relations more than outsiders. But sometimes, like the Mo family and the Liang family, blood relation is a hidden knife, a double-edged sword. Outsiders raised by one’s own hand are often more credible.
Reaching the point of Lin Xianzi’s risky move meant a difficult choice between Jin Tonghai and Lin Ziqiu.
“At this juncture, whether we believe his phone call or not, we will all ponder it carefully.”
Lian Cheng nodded slowly. Regardless of whether Liang Zhengping’s phone call was to put aside their hatred and cooperate temporarily, his other objective—to disrupt morale—had been achieved.
“Liang Chaosu is ruthless and adept at conquest; Liang Zhengping is insidious. He focuses on the underlying logic, his tactics are a vast fog, seemingly chaotic at first glance. In reality, they are strokes of genius, achieving multiple goals at once. Whether others step into the trap or not, he gains benefits based on their reactions.”
A patch of grayish-green stubble appeared on Lin Lanfeng’s jaw.
Since Lin Xianzi decided to bring Lian Cheng back, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time. He was so worn out that white hairs were starting to show. His body, capable of extreme sports and life-or-death situations, was nearing its limit under this mountainous pressure.
“You’re almost through the checkpoint, right? After you exit, it’s West Kowloon. I’ve arranged a villa for you. You can avoid me, but you must stay there. The security is provided by the Old Master’s men, and Uncle Bo, the butler, will personally look after you.”
They both compromised, and Lian Cheng accepted.
After passing the checkpoint, Feng Shien drove onto the land of Hong Kong.
Skyscrapers looked down upon the old urban area with its late 19th-century British architecture.
A strange fusion of new and old, neon signs on the street assaulted the car windows, with dazzling traditional Chinese characters interspersed with English. Lian Cheng glimpsed them occasionally.
A Maybach, waiting for the traffic light, pulled up alongside and its rear window lowered slightly.
The forehead and temple of a man were revealed, his contours familiar, his features deep.
A sharp, aggressive aura emanated, and with his gaze, it penetrated the car window, piercing through her and directly into the driver’s seat.
Feng Shien sensed something and turned his head to look, first seeing Lian Cheng’s solemn expression. “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?”
In the morning, she was anxious to get the pass and then rushed to the port, packing a meal on the way, but she had no appetite.
She only drank a cup of soy milk, chewing her siu mai listlessly. Cold, it seemed to have chilled her vitality as well, making her appear more calm and forcing herself to hold on.
“I bought bread, do you want some?” Feng Shien leaned over and opened the co-pilot’s glove compartment. He had always been considerate. As he moved closer, he maintained his distance.
His arm deliberately avoided Lian Cheng’s upper body, but he still tilted his body. Lian Cheng turned her head, their eyes met. At close range, she saw the caramel-colored light in his pupils, like clear jade polished with beeswax.
A smile bloomed, then changed, rich and transparent like honey, without a single sharp edge to cause discomfort, nor the drowning tenderness of Shen Lichuan. He was refreshingly and perfectly upright.
Lian Cheng took the bread. “The light is green, let’s drive around a few times before going to the villa.”
Feng Shien immediately became vigilant. The Maybach’s rear window had completely lowered. The single pane of glass offered little resistance to the sharp, icy coldness in the man’s eyes, which grew heavier and more intense, utterly oppressive.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lian Cheng nudged Feng Shien’s shoulder. “The driver is Xiao Da. They’re not as familiar with Hong Kong as you are, and they won’t dare to mess around. Just shake him off.”
Feng Shien first checked her seatbelt. “Sit tight, we’ll go through the alleyways.”
Lian Cheng pressed against the back of the seat. With that brief physical contact, the chill emanating from the window almost froze into an ice cave inside the car.
Feng Shien stepped on the accelerator, speeding through the intersection.
The Maybach behind them indeed followed closely. Lian Cheng stared at the rearview mirror, her jaw tensing repeatedly.
Liang Chaosu’s arrival in Hong Kong was both expected and unexpected for her.
If he was here, it meant he would definitely return.
If he wasn’t, she hadn’t expected him so soon.
Liang Zhengping hadn’t held him back, and he had ignored the internal power struggle within the Liang family.
“We’ve lost him.”
The old city alleyways of Hong Kong were a labyrinth. They weaved left and right, occasionally intersected by crowds. The BMW 3 Series they were driving was a compact sports sedan, narrower than the Maybach.
Feng Shien intentionally chose the residential backstreets, making it difficult for the Maybach to enter and exit. After following for two alleys, it disappeared.
Lian Cheng still felt uneasy. “Xiao Da’s driving isn’t this bad.”
Feng Shien had been very attentive to her opinions throughout the journey. He slowed down, shifting his gaze between the rearview mirror and the backup mirror.
Men generally accept praise, rewards, and admiration for things they excel at and have accomplished.
When faced with differing opinions, especially from the opposite sex, they tend to feel uncomfortable. Increased displeasure can lead to suppression, ridicule, or accusations that boost others and deflate oneself.
However, the men Lian Cheng had encountered were not of such worldly nature.
Liang Chaosu was strong and even more formidable. Any perceived mistake on her part was entirely within his grasp. His subordinates didn’t need brains; they only needed to rely on him, obey, and execute.
Shen Lichuan was even less so. Feng Shien’s refinement resembled him in some ways, yet differed in others, like a scholar in the secular world, exercising self-restraint and adhering to propriety, carrying the heavy weight of the human world.
But he was real enough, a sincere person.
The Maybach’s shadow hadn’t appeared in the rearview mirror for a long time, and Lian Cheng relaxed slightly.
“Should we tell Mr. Lin?” Feng Shien asked.
Lian Cheng paused, then considered, “Thank you for asking my opinion. Not for now.”
The current situation was that Lin Xianzi had gone to the mainland to recognize her, and everyone was aware of it. Liang Zhengping’s phone call indicated that his men knew she was in Hong Kong.
Lian Yingying was a horse pushed to the edge of a cliff; her appearance would mean a fall into the abyss.
But as long as she didn’t appear, Lian Yingying still held her status. With status, this situation wouldn’t allow her to do much.
The only one to guard against was Liang Chaosu.
His arrival in Hong Kong at this time—had he anticipated she wouldn’t return to the Lin family and intended to expose her existence, redirecting events back to his plan?
If so.
Lian Cheng gripped her phone tightly. She couldn’t always be on the defensive.
……………………
Lin Lanfeng’s villa was located on a densely green slope, its roof completely shaded by two centuries-old banyan trees.
Lian Cheng had a good eye for things.
Such large, lush, and dense canopies could block the prying lenses of Hong Kong paparazzi and, consequently, surveillance.
Rounding the end of the alley, Feng Shien braked sharply.
The inertia was immense, tires screeching against the asphalt. Lian Cheng lunged forward, only to be pulled back by the seatbelt.
“Did you get hurt?” Feng Shien’s first reaction was to check on her.
The violent shaking made Lian Cheng dizzy. Black and white spots flashed before her eyes, blurring everything. She vaguely heard footsteps stopping by the car door.
Feng Shien raised his arm to shield her, his tone stiff with vigilance. “It’s Liang Chaosu.”
Lian Cheng was startled, as if a basin of ice water had been poured over her head on a midsummer day, clearing her vision and chilling her to the bone.
“Get out.”
Liang Chaosu knocked on the car window. “I need to talk to you.”
Through the tinted window, Lian Cheng saw his face, gloomy and sinister, brewing a storm, a fire.
His entire gaze was fixed on the arm Feng Shien had placed protectively in front of her chest.
