Chapter Thirty-Six: The Yang Family Banquet

Yang Yujia felt shy as Lin Yi held her foot. For some girls, their feet are extremely sensitive, just like Yujia. If not for the clarity in Lin Yi’s eyes, she might have suspected he was doing it on purpose.

“Lin Yi, do you think Yujia is alright?” Li Zhihan asked anxiously.

“She’s fine. I’ll massage her foot. A day of rest should be enough,” Lin Yi replied, shaking his head.

“So soon?” Li Zhihan was a bit surprised.

Last time she sprained her ankle, it took over two weeks of rest at home before she recovered. From how Yujia looked, her injury seemed much more serious, yet Lin Yi claimed she’d be well in just a day.

Lin Yi didn’t answer, focusing instead on Yujia’s foot. Truth be told, her foot was beautiful—pale and straight—but his gaze remained pure, without a hint of desire.

“I’ll give you a massage first. It might hurt a little,” Lin Yi said.

Yujia’s cheeks flushed slightly. She wanted to pull her foot back, yet Lin Yi’s hand felt so warm she didn’t.

“Hurry up,” Yujia whispered.

Lin Yi smiled and began massaging gently, channeling a wisp of true energy into her ankle.

At first, Yujia felt a sharp pain, but soon a tingling numbness took over, interwoven with a cool sensation that was so comfortable she nearly drifted off to sleep.

After a dozen seconds, Lin Yi stopped.

Glancing over, he saw Yujia had already fallen asleep, her breath soft and even.

Compared to her usual aloofness, it was in this moment that she truly looked like a young girl.

Li Zhihan covered Yujia with a towel blanket.

Since she was asleep, Lin Yi decided to let her rest. It was clear she’d been under a lot of pressure lately, likely because of the family banquet.

…

On the 28th, the day had arrived for the Yang family patriarch’s promotion celebration.

Yujia wore a black short-sleeved dress that accentuated her long, elegant legs.

“Here,” she said, handing Lin Yi a suit.

After all, this was a formal occasion—one could hardly dress casually.

Lin Yi accepted the suit—an Animar, probably worth seven or eight thousand.

“Hurry and change. My mother’s already waiting downstairs,” Yujia urged.

“Alright.”

Lin Yi quickly changed into the suit and went downstairs.

To his surprise, Yujia actually gave him a rare compliment, “Not bad at all.”

“Really? I thought so too,” Lin Yi replied calmly.

“Narcissist.” Yujia rolled her eyes and got into the car.

The three soon arrived at the Yang family estate.

Luxury cars already crowded the entrance, and everywhere were elegantly dressed women and businessmen in sharp suits.

It was clear that many prominent figures and socialites had come to celebrate the Yang family’s rise, a testament to the family’s impressive connections.

Yang Junqi parked the car, and the three got out.

Given Yang Junqi’s status, she should have been able to enter directly.

But unexpectedly, two doormen blocked their way.

“Sorry, no entry without an invitation. No outsiders allowed.”

Yang Junqi’s expression darkened, her voice cold: “Who are you calling an outsider?”

“Whoever fits the bill,” one of the thinner doormen replied.

“I’m Yang Junqi. You should recognize me.”

“Never heard of you.”

The two doormen shook their heads, their mockery evident.

Of course, they knew who she was, but the eldest miss had instructed them to make things difficult for her if she came.

“Isn’t that the Yang family’s third miss? Why is her own family blocking her at the door? How strange.”

Some people who recognized Junqi asked in confusion.

“Ha, third miss? I heard she’s been at odds with the old patriarch for years and tried to make her own way. Didn’t work out, I guess. Even her own man left her for another woman. Poor thing.”

“She’s pretty though, and has a great figure. That must be her daughter—she’s cute too.”

“Don’t get ideas. She’s still a Yang, and reputation matters.”

The crowd gossiped.

Just then, a mocking voice rang out, “Well, look who it is—little sister, can’t get in?”

It was none other than Junqi’s eldest sister, Yang Manli.

The doormen instantly greeted her with deference, “Miss Yang!”

Although Junqi was still technically the third miss, even the gatekeepers looked down on her now.

“Is this your doing?” Junqi asked coldly.

From the moment the doormen blocked her, she knew someone was setting her up.

“Little sister, you can say what you want, but don’t go making things up,” Manli replied indifferently.

Junqi snorted.

Satisfied she’d made her point, Manli turned to the doormen and snapped, “Are you blind? You don’t recognize Yang Junqi? Step aside!”

She deliberately avoided calling her third miss, making her stance clear.

The doormen immediately moved aside, saying, “Please, go ahead.”

“I’ve heard that a watchdog’s temperament always resembles its master’s,” Junqi said as she led Yujia and Lin Yi inside.

Manli’s face shifted with anger, but then she sneered, “All talk. Let’s see how long you last.”

…

Inside, Lin Yi intended to find a quiet corner, but Junqi seemed to read his mind.

“You two youngsters should go mingle. This is a rare opportunity to build connections.”

Lin Yi mused that even her family’s patriarch was still a junior in his eyes.

Yujia said nothing, simply turning to leave, and Lin Yi followed.

After walking in silence for a while, they encountered a boy and a girl, both around sixteen or seventeen.

The boy was handsome, the girl beautiful, their outfits each worth at least ten thousand.

“Yujia, who’s this? Your driver?” the girl teased.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Yujia answered coldly.

She then introduced them to Lin Yi, “This is Yang Li, my second aunt’s daughter.”

“Oh, boyfriend? Funny, he looks just like a driver to me,” Yang Li sneered.

Lin Yi wore a suit, but he lacked the privileged air of a wealthy heir.

“That’s just your poor eyesight,” Yujia retorted icily.

Every time she and her mother returned to the family, they were met not with warmth, but with coldness.

Yang Li’s smile quickly faded, but she soon recovered, saying, “This is Song Qi, the designated heir of the Song family—the most powerful family in Jiang Province.”

Yujia’s expression didn’t change. “Yang Li, haven’t you seen the latest news? The Wang family has overtaken the Songs as the leading family. The Songs have to take a back seat now.”

Of course Yang Li knew, but she’d said it just to save face.

Who’d have expected Yujia to expose her so ruthlessly?

At that moment, Song Qi offered his hand with a smile, “Hello.”

“Hello,” Yujia replied, intending to be perfunctory.

But Song Qi held her hand tightly, his finger tracing a heart on her palm.

“Yujia, your skin is so soft,” he said, taking the opportunity to squeeze her hand.

Yujia’s expression darkened. She’d already disliked Song Qi, and now she was thoroughly disgusted.

As Song Qi tried to take further advantage, his wrist was suddenly gripped by another hand.

It was Lin Yi.

Yujia took the chance to pull her hand away, glaring at Song Qi with utter contempt.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Song Qi demanded. He had martial arts training, yet Lin Yi’s grip was like an iron clamp—he couldn’t break free.

Yang Li puffed herself up and barked, “Let go! Song Qi isn’t someone you can touch!”

Lin Yi completely ignored her, his gaze cool as he looked at Song Qi. “You know exactly what you just did.”

“What did I do? I just held Yujia’s hand a little longer,” Song Qi insisted.

Lin Yi squeezed, and with a crisp crack, Song Qi’s wrist snapped.

To his credit, Song Qi didn’t cry out, but the cold sweat beading on his forehead betrayed his pain.

Lin Yi flicked his hand, sending Song Qi sprawling to the ground like a sack of garbage.