On the other side of the city, nestled quietly and beautifully, lay the Lakefront Villa District.
This was Fu Yi’s home.
No, rather than calling it a home, it was more like a coliseum devoid of any warmth.
Here, everyone had to compete to survive.
The Inheritance competed to seize more assets, power, and, ultimately, the chips to control the Family.
Even maids and other staff had to compete. If you did well, the position was yours, along with a generous salary.
If you were ruthless enough to bring down someone above you, you’d gain their resources and rewards.
Fu Yi had lived here since childhood, and the harsh environment forced her to create a cold mask for herself.
Perhaps the only thing she could find “comfort” in was this—
In the Family, class was supreme, bloodline was supreme.
On the surface, no one of a lower class was allowed to strike at those above, and likewise, those of higher class couldn’t directly interfere in the lower class’s competition. Once discovered, the punishment was severe.
Competition among the Inheritance was even more crucial.
Like an ancient feudal family.
But it was precisely these rigid rules that allowed Fu Yi to survive her childhood in peace.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling window was the shimmering private lakeside.
The interior was decorated in a modern minimalist style, dominated by black, white, and gray tones.
Clean lines and expensive art pieces were tastefully arranged, making the room luxurious but clearly lacking any sign of life.
Fu Yi sat alone behind a massive ebony desk in the study.
She was the only one in the large room, sitting quietly with perfect posture.
If not for the pen in her hand scribbling away, she might be mistaken for a lifelike porcelain doll at first glance.
She had already changed out of the casual clothes she usually wore at school.
Now she wore a deep blue silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing a slender wrist and an obviously expensive mechanical watch.
She paired it with loose white wide-legged pants and a pure black belt fastened tightly around her delicate waist.
Her long hair was tied neatly behind her head, revealing a smooth forehead and cool, indifferent brows and eyes.
The desk before her was covered with various documents—proposals that had piled up in the company over the past few days, all awaiting her decision.
Usually, she handled approvals on her laptop at the apartment, but the collaboration with another company was nearing its end, and the number of files requiring approval had increased.
To complete them efficiently and on time, she had hurried out of the apartment last night and returned to this cold place in the Maybach.
Here, there was no Zhou Min calling her to eat or telling her not to work so hard.
There was no Lin Wei making a fuss, begging her to play, shaking her arm.
Only cold air and silent, empty corridors remained.
The only sound in the entire room was the pen in her hand, writing and drawing on the documents.
After dealing with a wave of urgent transactions, Fu Yi leaned back slightly, her petite body sinking into the wide leather chair, the sensation of being wrapped up bringing a faint sense of relaxation.
She rubbed her brow, picked up the black coffee by her hand—now long cold—and took a sip.
No matter how bitter the taste, her expression didn’t change.
She’d been drinking it for years, just to keep herself awake.
“Dong…dong…”
As if sensing she’d finished a round of work and was resting, a polite knock sounded at the study door—three steady taps.
Fu Yi didn’t even look up.
“Come in.”
Housekeeper Zhou entered, carrying a small tray with a freshly brewed cup of hot tea and some delicate snacks.
His footsteps were light as he set the tray on the corner of the desk, glancing at Fu Yi’s slightly tired face with a trace of heartache.
In a low voice, he advised, “Miss, please rest for a while. You barely ate breakfast. If you exhaust yourself, it’s not worth it for your health…”
“Enough, Zhou Shu.”
Fu Yi interrupted Housekeeper Zhou and straightened up.
“Just leave it there.”
She only rested for a moment before returning to work, her gaze once more fixed on the white papers on the desk.
Her tone softened slightly, but the coldness remained.
A hint of reluctance flashed in Zhou Shu’s eyes, but he didn’t leave immediately.
After a brief hesitation, he spoke again.
“Young Master Mingxuan is here. He’s in the downstairs living room and says he wants to talk to you.”
Fu Yi’s hand holding the pen paused slightly, her brows drawing together.
Fu Mingxuan.
Her cousin, uncle’s son, and one of her most formidable competitors within the Family.
A smiling tiger—always seeming concerned about you, but never missing a chance to trip you up at the critical moment.
In recent years, he had toppled and acquired countless companies with dirty methods—a true hypocrite.
A trace of deep annoyance flickered in Fu Yi’s eyes before she returned to calm.
“Tell him to get lost.”
“Yes.”
Housekeeper Zhou bowed and left.
The room fell silent again, but after a few minutes, another knock broke the stillness.
It was Housekeeper Zhou again.
He walked to Fu Yi with a troubled expression, hesitating as he spoke.
“Miss, Young Master Mingxuan says he has important information about your current collaboration. He insists it’s crucial for you. I didn’t dare make the decision myself and came to report to you.”
So troublesome.
Fu Yi thought irritably, the pen pressing harder against the paper, making a “scratching” sound.
Housekeeper Zhou stood respectfully to the side, waiting for her instructions.
“Then let him wait. I’ll go down when I finish.”
A hint of amusement flashed in Fu Yi’s eyes.
She didn’t believe anything this hypocrite called “important intel” would be useful.
Even if he really had leverage over her collaboration, he wouldn’t show up now.
He’d wait until she was suffering under a pile of mess before appearing as a righteous savior with “help.”
Coming now probably meant her plan had already made him feel threatened—or maybe he wanted a piece of this deal for himself.
Of course, whatever he intended, Fu Yi would make sure he left empty-handed.
As for now—didn’t he say he came with sincerity?
Let him wait two hours, then.
How else would she gauge his sincerity?
If he couldn’t wait, that was his problem.
“If he can’t wait, tell him to get lost.”
“Ah, ah, such harsh words. I can’t say I like that, my dear sister.”
Before her words finished, a light, mocking male voice interrupted from outside the door.
A man in a light gray suit walked in.
He wore no tie, his hair was perfectly combed, and his face held a warm, sunny smile.
“Yiyi, still busy? Hope I’m not disturbing you?”
He spoke gently, settling into the guest chair opposite her with practiced familiarity.
His gaze swept over the spread of documents, a sharp glint flickering deep in his eyes.
This was Fu Yi’s cousin.
Fu Mingxuan.