Ming Ze's phone buzzed on the desk, the screen flashing a name that made his stomach twist.
Ming Feng.
He stared at it for a second, unmoving. The last time he saw that name on his screen in his past life, it had led to humiliation, manipulation and eventual ruin.
He knew what he called him for.
Still, he picked up.
"Hello?"
"Ming Ze," came the voice, calm and authoritative. "Come home.Now"
No greeting. No explanation. Just a command.
He hadn't heard from him since school started, and hadn't reached out . And now, suddenly, he called.
Ming Ze's lips curled faintly, though his tone remained even. "Is there a reason?
"You'll find out when you get here," Ming Feng said coldly. "The car will be at your school gate in thirty minutes. Don't keep me waiting."
The line went dead.
Ming Ze slowly lowered the phone.
No warmth, no concern. Just like always. Ming Feng had perfected the role of benevolent father to the outside world, but at home, his affection was measured, distant-reserved entirely for Ming Yu.
In his past life, Ming Ze had bent over backward trying to earn even a silver of approval form him. That eagerness had been used, twisted and finally discarded.
He would never make that mistake again.
.....
An hour passed.
Ming Ze's phone buzzed repeatedly on the desk, each call from Ming Feng flashing across the screen, only to be declined or left unanswered. By the fifth call, he simply turned the phone over, face down.
He didn't rush.
Instead, he packed his bag slowly, slipping his laptop inside, zipping it shut with quiet precision. His movement were calm-almost too calm, as if the silence was the only thing keeping something darker from surfacing.
He checked himself in the mirror once. Clean clothes.
Only then did he leave the dorm.
Outside the school gate, the car waited as promised -sleek, black, and far too polished for a simple student pickup. It stood out, drawing attention, just as Ming Feng liked things to.
The driver stepped out as soon as he saw him. Mr Zhao, middle-aged, had been driving the Ming family for years.
"Young Master Ze." he greeted politely, opening the back door.
Ming Ze gave a faint nod and slid into the back seat without a word.
The door shut.
As the car pulled away from the school, Ming Ze leaned his head against the window, watching the building blur pas. His reflection stared back at him, calm and unreadable.
...
The black sedan rolled to a stop at the circular driveway of the Ming family estate, its sleek body reflecting the golden glow of the early evening lights. The gates had opened automatically-no one came out to greet him nor did he expects.
Ming Ze stepped out, dressed simply in a plain black hoodie and jeans. The crisp air carried the faint of gardenias from the meticulously kept flower bed, but it did little to soften the chill of returning to this place.
He stood still for a moment, staring up at the house.
It had been two years since he was brought back here-when the truth of his bloodline was revealed, when the Ming family discovered Ming Yu wasn't theirs by blood, And yet, nothing had really changed.
The front door of the Ming estate swung open with a soft click, and Ming Ze stepped inside.
Inside, the sitting room was alive with light and soft laughter.
The sitting room was awash in soft amber light from the chandelier above. The entire family was there, seated comfortably like it was a holiday gathering.
The moment Ming Ze stepped into the living room, all conversation stopped-just for a beat-but that was all it took.
Three pairs of eyes turned to him.
Ming Feng stood near the fireplace, holding a glass of red wine as if it were a prop in a carefully staged performance. His suit was crisp, his hair neatly styled-but their was something hollow behind the polish. He wasn't naturally commanding; instead, he relied on appearance and rehearsed dignity to maintain the illusion of control.
Ming Feng was a man obsessed with reputation. He bowed and scraped before those with more power than him, but had no patience for anyone who couldn't enhance his image. He is the type who fears the strong and bully the weak.
Across from him, Song Yuran sat with perfect posture in a pale blue silk robe, her beauty untouched by age despite in her forties. Her expression was calm, almost warm, until her eyes flicked to Ming Ze.
There was no welcome in them.
Seated nearby, Ming Gu, the eldest son, tall and composed was quietly tapping away on his laptop, barely acknowledging Ming Ze's presence. He didn't speak, didn't look up, He barely care about this sudden brother. His loyalty was to the family legacy and to Ming Yu, whom he'd grown up with.
And then there was Ming Yu sitting beside him. The darling of the family. The beloved son of the world. Curled up beside Ming Gu in a sweater and jeans, he looked the picture of innocent and softness. His face lit up when he saw Ming Ze, his lips parting on a warm, seemingly genuine smile. "Gege, you are here."
His voice was soft and sweet, eyes wide with a practiced kind of concern but behind the angelic expression, there was a glint of subtle satisfaction, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
Ming Ze walked his slowly.
Ming Feng's expression darkened the moment his eyes landed on him.
"You finally decided to show up?", he snapped, his tone cutting through the room. "Have you no sense of time?"
Before Ming Ze could speak, Song Yuran set her delicate teacup down with a soft click, voice calm but laced with contempt. "Oh, don't scold him too harshly. Maybe he was embarrassed to come. This isn't exactly his home, after all."
Song Yuran's gaze lingered on him-her own son, born of her blood-but there was no softness there. She didn't like this son of hers, as if she couldn't see him without comparing him to the son she had raised for eighteen years.
And still loved.
Ming Ze glanced at her and his jaw tightened. A wave of disgust burning deep within him.
Ming Yu glanced at them, tone laced with false concern. "Maybe Gege was in a rush. He's been working part-time again, right? He's really trying so hard to be independent. Maybe he just didn't want to bother anyone....."
Ming Ze stood their, his beautiful eyes calmly taking in the scene. Finally, he sighed. The tension in the room has stretched thin, the words piling up like debris in the air.Those who didn't know will think he's their enemy and not their biological son.
'How ironic', Ming Ze thought when he looked at his own behavior in his past life. He wasted his who!e life on those who didn't deserve it.
With a flick of his gaze, he met each of their eyes in turn, unflinching.
"Is this not what you wanted?" His voice unconcerned.
"What is it you want form me? Why did you call?" His eyes lingered on Ming Feng.
"What do you want?" Ming Ze asked, his voice calm but piercing thought the silence.
Ming Feng paused, clearly trying to control his irritation. He straightened, attempting to regain some form of authority before speaking.
"The Zheng family is hosting a banquet the day after tomorrow", Ming Feng said smoothly.
As Ming Feng casually mentioned the upcoming banquet, Ming Ze's mind immediately snapped back to his past life. The words "Zheng family" and "banquet" echoed in his mind, the memories flooding him in an instant. His stomach churned as the horrific details resurfaced.
That banquet had been the turning point, the starting moment his life had spiraled into chaos.
"Why are you telling me this?" Ming Ze's voice cut through the air, his calm tone masking the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.
Ming Feng's eyes narrowed, clearly irritated by the lack of enthusiasm from this son of his. "We will all go tomorrow. It's an important events. And you better behave well".
Ming Ze knew better. He has a battle to face. He won't run away from it.
"Fine," he said quietly, his expression unreadable. "Since you want me to go, I'll go but don't say I embarrassed you".