And Cang hadn't even moved. Just released a fraction of his aura for a single second.
Then withdrew it, and the pressure vanished like it had never existed.
The hall was silent. Everyone staring. Breathing heavily like they'd just run a marathon.
"As I was saying," Cang continued pleasantly, as if nothing had happened, "choose your words carefully. Because Zhang Yue is under MY protection. And insulting her is insulting ME."
His golden eyes locked onto Madam Wei, and she actually flinched—this woman who'd spent decades dominating social situations through wealth and influence—reduced to a trembling, fearful thing under the gaze of real power.
"I—I didn't mean—" she stammered, face pale.
"You did," Cang corrected gently. "You meant to humiliate her. To shame her into submission. To force her into a marriage she doesn't want."
He took a step forward, still guiding Yue with him, and approached the raised platform.
