I am called Lian Wei, the young heir to the Lian-Hua Consortium, one of Valeria City's most powerful financial empires. My mother, Su Mei-Lan, chairs the sprawling Hua Group, while my father, Lian Shao-Feng, once led the Lian side of the merger. Their union fused two titan families into an unrivaled economic force across the region.
Both grandfathers rose through the ranks of the old military elite, giving me the status of a true third-generation elite with deep patriotic ties. But tragedy struck early.
When I was just six, Father traveled to a neighboring island nation for high-stakes talks. He never hid his distrust of certain foreign negotiators, and during one heated session, he pushed too hard—humiliating his counterparts. They retaliated viciously. Though Father fought back fiercely, he was ambushed, stabbed, and poisoned with a rare toxin that left him in a persistent vegetative state, waking only for scattered days each year.
The shock killed my paternal grandfather instantly from a burst of rage. My maternal grandfather, still burning with fury, gathered a few loyal veterans and crossed the sea to exact justice. He never returned—lost forever in that shadowed conflict.
Mother withdrew into icy silence. After weeks tending to Father at home, she stepped back into the boardroom and launched a merciless campaign against the rival conglomerate responsible: the Kurogane Corporation. She accepted massive losses to inflict even greater damage on them—a war of attrition that cost her dearly but eroded their foundations.
Now, at thirty-eight, Mother rules the Lian-Hua Consortium with an iron will. Years of rigorous Vaelin Flow exercises—a family secret passed down for generations—combined with meticulous care keep her looking no older than thirty. Business journals have crowned her Valeria's most captivating and formidable business empress.
She stands at 175 cm, her figure a breathtaking hourglass: 34H curves that strain against any fabric, long sculpted legs, and hips that sway with hypnotic confidence. Even stripped of her status and wealth, she would command every gaze in the room.
Me? I'm just an average high schooler—mediocre grades, half-hearted at martial training, barely grasping the basics of internal energy flow. At 168 cm, I'm shorter than Mother, slender and unremarkable in build. At least my features blend the best of both parents; people call me handsome in a soft, almost delicate way.
My girlfriend is Lan Yue, one of Mother's prized protégées. Yue's mother shared a deep bond with mine in their youth, so both Yue and her elder sister trained under Mother as disciples.
Yue lives up to her graceful name—porcelain skin, lively eyes, and a body honed by the same breathing methods. At 175 cm with 32D assets, she's stunning, already outshining most women her age. Eighteen now, one year my senior and noticeably taller, strangers often mistake us for siblings when we're out.
Growing up without a father's steady presence left me gentle, even timid. Once, at the school pool, I caught sight of classmates' endowments and felt an odd mix of envy and awe. Mine, even fully aroused, barely reaches 7 cm—soft, unimpressive. Mockery followed behind closed doors, though no one dared say it openly because of my family's name. The shame burned at first… then twisted into something strangely thrilling.
Because of my limitations, I've held back from taking Yue's innocence. She's still young; I'll find a way to strengthen myself first. Yet a dark whisper lingers in my mind—visions of her yielding to those same mocking boys, their strength claiming what I can't. The thought haunts and excites me in equal measure.
Yue has an older sister, Lan Ruo, a recent graduate of the elite security academy who now serves in a specialized tactical squad, thanks to Mother's influence. I also have a younger sister, Hua Xiao-Yu, fifteen and carrying Mother's surname. She's bright, diligent, and already being groomed as the future successor to the consortium.
That afternoon I returned from classes to find two pairs of polished men's shoes at the door. Stepping inside, I saw Mother in a crisp ivory blazer seated beside Xiao-Yu in a neat sundress. Across from them sat a burly, intimidating man in a tailored suit, his face carved from granite. Beside him, a nervous, bespectacled assistant hunched over a laptop, perspiring heavily.
Mother's attire was professional yet revealing in subtle ways—the blazer's top buttons loose, her silk blouse parted just enough to hint at the profound cleavage beneath. Her pencil skirt had hiked up from the way she sat, showcasing the sheer stockings that clung to her endless legs like a second skin.
Xiao-Yu clutched her tablet, scribbling notes with exaggerated seriousness, twin ponytails bouncing as she played the part of a miniature executive. Though only fifteen, her budding 32B chest already promised future rivalry with Mother's legendary proportions.
Mother wore subtle makeup—a sign this meeting mattered. Without it she already eclipsed every beauty in the city; with it, she became untouchable.
Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, framed by slim designer frames. Her gaze carried razor-sharp intellect, occasionally glinting with frost that made the assistant flinch.
When she noticed me, warmth flickered briefly in her eyes. She gave a small nod, then turned back to the discussion.
Her voice, rich and commanding, filled the room: "Mr. Kuroda, your Kurogane Corporation still shows no real goodwill. The Lian-Hua Consortium can mobilize 15 billion without blinking—but I expect more than a dry transaction. Even dropping coins in a fountain makes ripples. Where are yours?"
"Madam Su," the man replied in careful, accented speech, "we've offered full operational control of our domestic plants and exclusive North Pacific distribution rights. But demanding 5% of our global annual profits on top? That's excessive. Your trade minister already approved the framework—why renegotiate now?"
Mother smiled thinly, crossing her legs in a slow, deliberate motion that briefly revealed shadowed lace beneath her skirt. "The minister's agreements are his concern. Here, 5% is merely the starting point. Go back and reconsider."
Kuroda's jaw clenched; rage flashed behind his eyes before he masked it with a strained grin that only sharpened his predatory features.
"Incidentally," he continued, "we've developed a promising neural stimulant at Kurogane Labs. Early trials are encouraging. We'd be honored to apply it to Mr. Lian's treatment—at no cost, of course."
Slam!
Mother's palm struck the glass table like thunder. Her expression darkened; an invisible pressure rolled outward, stealing the air from the room. The assistant dropped to his knees, trembling.
"Kuroda Haru," she said, voice low and lethal, "do not insult me. Eleven years ago you drove the blade into my husband yourself, then orchestrated the chaos that claimed my father and broke my father-in-law's heart. Now you sit here offering 'cures'? You test my restraint."
Kuroda paled under her aura. Even with the tempting view down her blouse—purple lace framing creamy swells—he dared not linger.
"I… regret the past events," he muttered.
"Save your regrets. Accept the 5% or leave. Find another partner." Mother rose, arms folded beneath her chest, accentuating every curve.
"You're worthy of your title, the 'Silver Lotus Queen' of commerce," Kuroda said, standing and dragging his assistant upright. He bowed deeply. "I respect your resolve."
Mother offered no acknowledgment. Only as he reached the door did she speak again, coolly: "If your drug proves genuine, I might consider easing to 3%. Don't linger."
Kuroda paused, broad shoulders straining his jacket. He stole one last glance at her commanding silhouette, then departed.
"Mom… that's him? The one who attacked Dad and caused Grandpa's death?" I asked quietly.
She nodded, teeth gritted. "Yes. Kuroda Haru rose from the ashes of that old name. I spent years hunting the truth. I never imagined he'd walk into our home like this." With that, she turned, hips swaying as she headed toward her suite.
"Brother! You're back early. Skipping time with Yue-jie?" Xiao-Yu set her tablet aside—I glimpsed a puzzle game on the screen.
"Ruo-jie returned today with some foreign guest. Family trip plans. They invited me, but traveling sounds exhausting. I'll visit during the holiday week."
"Mom hated meeting him at the office, so she invited him here. She dressed up quickly to look the part—didn't want to seem weak. Hehe, since Yue-jie's busy, want to play that new strategy board game in my room? It's full of twists!"
I shook my head. My sister has a mischievous streak—often "forgetting" undergarments and binge-watching questionable shows. Better to keep distance.
"Why negotiate at all if we hate them?" I asked, steering away.
"National economic talks. The trade minister met with their officials, then pushed domestic firms to cooperate. Mom had to play along—15 billion investment, plus demands for dividends, factories, and profit cuts. It fell apart today." Her eyes lit up again. "But seriously, the game has secret events!"
"I'm starving. What's for dinner?" I slipped past her toward the kitchen.
"Hmph. Acting all innocent. Your 'little secret' is adorable anyway!" she called after me, making me hurry faster.
One night she snuck in, tugged down my shorts, and explored curiously. I lock my door now.
At dinner, Mother wore a flowing silk robe at home—elegant, accentuating her regal poise. Outside she's steel; here she's tender, asking about classes, friends, any worries. She cares deeply about my bond with Yue too—her handpicked student.
I admire and yearn for her in equal measure. She offers safety and warmth… yet her devastating beauty stirs forbidden glances.
With the Autumn Moon Festival and National Week overlapping, school break came early. Yue's family planned a trip with her sister's new fiancé from abroad. They invited me, but I declined—too much effort. I'll join later.