The next second, he pressed her down onto the sofa.His movement was sudden, forceful, leaving no room for reaction. He leaned in close, his chest brushing against her side, the distance between them shrinking to something dangerously intimate. One hand lifted casually, fingers threading through her dark hair, ruffling it with deliberate familiarity.
His narrow eyes lifted, meeting Bo Zhengrong’s gaze head-on.
At the corner of his lips curved a smile—wanton, unrestrained, edged with madness.
“She has me behind her,” he said lazily, yet every word landed with unmistakable weight. “A fearless lunatic backing her up.”
“What wouldn’t she dare to do?”
He enunciated each word clearly, as if carving them into the air.
Lu Zhiling sat frozen beneath him.
The sound of his voice seemed to scrape directly against her eardrums, sending a strange, unbearable sensation rushing through her body, spreading through every vein.
Her mind went blank.
She couldn’t say a single word. Lu Zhiling sat paralyzed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Bo Zhengrong roared, his face contorted with fury. In the past, his son’s rebellion had only ever scorched himself; now, he was prepared to burn the entire family lineage for the sake of this woman.
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Bo Wang replied, his fingers still entangled in Lu Zhiling’s hair. “I’ll ensure the hype stays at its peak. If the fire dies down, I’ll stoke it. If that fails, I have enough skeletons in my own closet to keep the Bo family at the top of the Hot Searches (trending topics on social media like Weibo) every single day.”
The room fell into a deathly silence. Lu Zhiling looked up in a daze, seeing only the sharp, arrogant line of his jaw. She had never intended to drag him into this abyss with her.
Bo Zhengrong stared at his son’s crazed expression and realized with a sinking heart that Bo Wang would feel no guilt, even if he dragged them all to hell. Suddenly, the patriarch erupted into a hollow, bitter laugh. “Good… very good!”
He slammed his tablet onto the table so hard the screen shattered into a web of glass. Glaring at Yu Yunfei and Xia Meiqing, he barked his final judgment before storming out. Moments later, Butler Wen returned, trembling.
“The Master’s orders: Madam Xia is to suspend all duties and undergo six months of mandatory charity work. As for Madam Yu…” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “She is stripped of all positions within the Conglomerate (the family’s massive business empire), must move out of the Shenshan estate immediately, and find her own residence.”
Yu Yunfei collapsed onto the sofa, her face a ghostly white. This wasn’t just a reprimand; it was an exile—a direct scapegoating (sacrificing someone to appease public anger) for the death of Gu Na.
Lu Zhiling watched them with cold, indifferent eyes. When the two women turned to her with murderous hatred, she simply smiled. She stood up, walking toward them with the grace of a predator.
“Do you hate me? Then come at me directly,” she whispered, her voice like ice. “As long as I draw breath, if you move against me, I will bite back ten times—a hundred times. If I don’t die, you will never win.”
Before she could say more, her wrist was clamped in a vice-like grip. Bo Wang swept her off her feet, carrying her out of the hall in a bridal carry. Lu Zhiling wrapped her arms around his neck, watching his stony profile.
“I can walk,” she murmured. He ignored her, kicking open the doors to the lush, indoor greenhouse. He dropped her onto a white swing chair, his tall frame looming over her like a shadow.
“You think you’re so clever?” he hissed, his teeth gritted. “Threatening Bo Zhengrong? Do you even know what ‘death’ means in this house?” He knew that if he had been a minute later, his father might have ended her right there, regardless of her pregnancy.
“I’m just unwilling to let them get away with it,” she whispered.
“Then kill them quietly! That’s better than this suicidal confrontation!” Bo Wang’s anger boiled over. He reached out, his hand wrapping around her slender neck—not to crush, but to claim. His dark eyes were wild with a mix of malice and desire. “Lu Zhiling, do you have a death wish?”
The fragrance of exotic flowers filled the air as she tilted her head back, her eyes bloodshot and vulnerable. “I just want the truth.”
“You’d die for it?” He growled, leaning in until their breaths mingled. She didn’t struggle; she simply let him hold her life in his hand.
“I’ve had enough of them harming the people around me,” she rasped. “And you… you shouldn’t have come. Now Father knows you care for me more than the family business. It will be harder for you to enter the Core (the inner circle of power).”
Before she could utter another word, Bo Wang silenced her with a kiss that was less a plea and more an invasion.
He crushed his lips against hers, his tongue plunging deep to rob her of her breath. Lu Zhiling gasped, her body recoiling instinctively, causing the swing to sway violently. Behind her, delicate white blossoms were crushed against the frame, their petals raining down like snow.
Bo Wang didn’t let her retreat. He braced his knee against the edge of the swing, locking it in place between his legs. His hand moved from her neck to her face, his rough thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip as he feasted on her.
He kissed her repeatedly, a fierce, rhythmic grinding that left her head spinning and her eyelashes fluttering like dying butterflies. The heat between them was suffocating, a mix of adrenaline and raw, carnal desperation. When he finally pulled back, his voice was a dry, hungry growl.
“I don’t need your consideration. From now on, if you decide to go on a suicide mission, you tell me first.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” she whispered, resting her head on his lap as he sat beside her.
“I’m not worried,” he lied, his slender fingers weaving through her soft hair. “I just think it’s better if you die at my hands than at someone else’s.”
Later, at the Sycamore Courtyard, Lu Zhiling stood under the heavy leaves until she was summoned by the matriarch, Ding Yujun. The old woman sat with her husband, Bo Qinglin, who was blissfully eating chilled Mung Bean Porridge (a traditional cooling dessert).
Lu Zhiling bowed her head. “Grandma, I’ve done wrong. I shouldn’t have used public opinion to threaten Father or let Bo Wang offend him.”
To her surprise, Ding Yujun’s eyes reddened. “Zhiling… do you think I am just an old woman who cares for reputation? Do you think I’ve just been using you as a tool for Bo Wang?”
The old lady’s voice choked with emotion. “I didn’t let you seek legal justice immediately because I was thinking of your future children. But did you think I would ignore your grievances? Bo Wang’s father is a dangerous man. When I heard you went to face him alone, do you know how terrified I was?”
Tears finally pricked Lu Zhiling’s eyes. She took the old lady’s trembling hand. “I’m sorry… I truly didn’t know you cared this much.”
Ding Yujun pulled her close. “You aren’t alone. We old bones can still back you up for a few more years. But tell me… you don’t regret it, do you?”
Lu Zhiling looked up, her gaze steady yet pained. “I only regret involving Bo Wang. I fear my plan to get him into the inner circle of the conglomerate has fallen through.”