"After all, you can know a person's face but not their heart. When the price is right, anything can be sold—even betraying one's country isn't unheard of." Wang Dacong shrugged with an air of indifference.
"Young Master Wang, your family's situation isn't looking too good these days. I heard your father is planning to list two more plazas for sale."
Wang Dacong scoffed, "The Wang family isn’t like the Li Family. We may sell properties, shares, or land, but we’d never betray our country or our partners."
Li Chifen happened to step out just in time to hear Wang Dacong’s remark, and his face instantly darkened.
Seems like it’s time to have a word with Old Wang and tell his son to keep his mouth shut in public.
Meanwhile, Luo Yao and the others had already left the estate. This time, not a single person dared to block their car at the gate—everyone scrambled to the sides, obediently letting them pass.
"Some people just need a good beating to face reality," Liu Meng mused.
Luo Yao rested with her eyes closed. "Some people still won’t get it even after a beating."
If violence alone could make people see the truth, there wouldn’t be so many delusional fools in the world.
Today’s events left Lin Ran inexplicably exhilarated. Was going out with Luo Yao always this thrilling?Yesterday in Shanghai, they’d flipped a dining table.
During the day, they’d completely reshuffled the corporate branch.
And tonight, they’d crashed the Li Family’s banquet, only to stroll out unscathed.
The only casualty was the Rolls-Royce hood ornament, still embedded in Li Chifen’s forehead.
Hearing Liu Meng and Luo Yao’s reflections, Lin Ran couldn’t help but add his own.
"Some people… they need to die once before they understand."
He was talking about himself—he wouldn’t have learned to love properly without that death.
Liu Meng and Luo Yao both turned to stare at Lin Ran, puzzled by his words.
Realizing his slip, Lin Ran quickly corrected himself.
"What I mean is, those who can’t see reality won’t learn how to behave unless they’re forced to face death."
He was still projecting. Liu Meng and Luo Yao kept staring silently.
"Ahem… I meant they’re asking for it."
"Oh, right. Young Master Lin makes a good point."
That, at least, Liu Meng understood.
By the time they returned to the estate, it was past eight in the evening. Liu Meng had already arranged for dinner to be prepared—after all, Lin Ran had flipped the table at the Li Family’s place, leaving everyone hungry.
Jiang Feihua, ever the attentive host, escorted them to the dining room. The moment they saw the table, both nodded in approval.
Noticing their reactions, Jiang Feihua sighed in relief. The meal she’d treated Uncle Fu to yesterday hadn’t been in vain—the masters were clearly satisfied.
This time, the servants brought out the dishes. Lin Ran had intended to sit across from Luo Yao, but she surprised him by settling onto his lap instead.
"Feed me, A’Ran."
Turning her head slightly, Luo Yao’s gaze made Lin Ran’s heart swell with sweetness.
The imported ingredients tasted just as exquisite as before.
The servants, already bracing for another round of affection overload (yesterday’s display had been more than enough), were still caught off guard by Lin Ran’s boldness. Some even flushed red.
"Young Miss and Young Master Lin are really… unrestrained."
Others thought: Alright, alright, you’re really treating us like we’re not even here. Can I sneak a peek?
"Why does something so embarrassing look so sweet when they do it?"
"Probably because of their looks. Both of them are drop-dead gorgeous."
"Young Miss is almost done eating… and so am I."
Even Jiang Feihua kept her head down, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of their public displays.
But at least they approved of her table arrangement.
A sly glint flickered in her eyes.
"…" She bit back her words just in time.
Uncle Fu had warned her: never interrupt when Young Miss and Young Master Lin were dining. No dish explanations, no unnecessary chatter.
The kitchen had prepared an excessive spread—so much that even Lin Ran found it wasteful. The table was too small, forcing dishes to be served in batches.
Back in Beijing, Uncle Fu would never allow such extravagance.
We may be rich, but we don’t waste.
"Next time, fewer dishes will do. No need for this much."
"Understood, Young Master Lin." Finally, Jiang Feihua found an opening to speak.
"Young Miss, Young Master Lin, how did you find tonight’s dishes?"
The professional manager was polished, courteous, and refined—yet Lin Ran couldn’t bring himself to like her.
After his rebirth, Lin Ran had gained one crucial ability: his instincts were rarely wrong.
Something about Jiang Feihua was off.
Of course, he trusted Luo Yao already knew.
Uncle Fu’s presence here confirmed it.
He was supposed to be guarding the Beijing estate.
"Food just needs to be fresh and nutritious. We’re not food critics, and my wife only has one requirement."
Jiang Feihua’s eyes lit up—this was valuable intel. "What requirement?"
"That I’m the one feeding her."
Lin Ran’s answer short-circuited Jiang Feihua’s brain.
Despite being in her forties, she’d never married.
Why? Two reasons:
Men beneath her standards were beneath her.
Men above her standards didn’t want her.
And so, time had slipped away. Even now, she refused to lower her criteria.
Lin Ran’s relentless flaunting finally broke her. Internally, she screamed: Stop showing off, damn it!
Outwardly, she smiled. "Young Master Lin truly adores Young Miss."
It was the only sentence Luo Yao had ever approved of from her since arriving in Shanghai.
"A’Ran, I’m full."
Lin Ran had eaten plenty while feeding her and was satisfied too.
"Me too. Let’s rest?"
Luo Yao nodded. Today had been exhausting.
Though it was late, sleeping right after eating was unhealthy.
So in bed, Lin Ran personally gave Luo Yao a digestion-aiding massage.
And a womb-warming one, too.
He wasn’t a professional, just mimicking what he’d seen in short videos.
Some might ask: Why not hire an expert when you’re this rich?
But for a yandere, anyone else so much as glancing below the neck was a crime—let alone touching.
Seeing the fine beads of sweat on Lin Ran’s forehead, Luo Yao softened. "A’Ran, this is enough. I feel better already."
Lin Ran checked his phone. "No. I’ll finish properly."
He was tired, but massaging his wife was tiring in the best way.
Plus, he had ulterior motives.
"Yao Yao, your skin is so soft."
"Feels amazing."
"Perfect everywhere."
"So smooth, so tender."