Yang Mujian held his sleeve in place with one hand while the other was holding a paintbrush. The head was made of hair from hand-raised and specifically bred goats. The shaft of the brush was made entirely of jade with silver encrusted into it to enhance the marbling effect.

He dipped the brush into the freshly grounded ink with the slab that Zhao Lifei had gifted him. He originally thought nothing of it, but after testing it out once, he decided it would be the ink slab he would be using from then on. For a woman without any knowledge of calligraphy, she certainly had a good eye for equipment.

The breeze from the garden outside drifted into the room. There were hints of bamboo, eucalyptus, and the sweet scent of flowers. The occasional plops of the fish mingled with the chirping of birds enhanced the serenity of this room.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Yang Mujian's concentration broke. His pleasant face shriveled into a permanent scowl, yet again, but he paid the noise no attention.

Someone was rushing down the hallways to see him, and that someone would pay for the disturbance.

Yang Mujian knew no harm could come to him. There were guards stationed everywhere around this room and the majority of them hid in the shadows. They were silent killers. But for the sake of display and reputation, there are some outside the door as well.

One of the servants outside hesitantly knocked on the wooden pillar closest to the door. Because the room had a thin, paper bamboo door to mimic the ones used in the Imperial Palace, the servants all used the pillars. "Master, an unexpected guest is desperately seeking your attention. He goes by the name of Zheng Hechong."

Yang Mujian hummed in reply. 'Why, if it wasn't Zheng Tianyi's father. What an odd and unexpected guest indeed.' "Let him in." He didn't bother to lift his head when the door slid open.

Zheng Tianyi resembled Zheng Hechong in many ways. The two could've been a reflection of each other. It was clear to everyone that Zheng Hechong aged like fine wine. Despite being in his late forties, he did not look a day over thirty.

"I apologize for my unannounced presence, however, the matter is extremely urgent and I couldn't wait another minute." Zheng Hechong was a bit out of breath from storming down the hallways to see Elder Yang.

Yang Mujian lost the inspiration to draw any characters. He settled his brush down and proceeded to grind more ink. "Sit." He commanded the middle-aged man who instantly sat down onto the mats.

No one had the authority to go against Yang Mujian. Not even Zheng Hechong, the current Patriarch, himself. His eyes trailed to the ink slab being used. As an avid calligrapher himself, he was thoroughly impressed by the quality of the plate.

After a few minutes, Yang Mujian finally spoke up. "What brings you in today?" He set everything aside. Another quiet knock echoed in the room. "Come in."

"Clean up the materials." Yang Mujian instructed the servants who entered the room with their heads bent.

Zheng Hechong was left speechless when everything was cleaned up and placed away in less than three minutes. Everyone moved efficiently and not a single action was wasted. Right after the materials were gone, a round table was placed between him and the Elder.

Roasted green tea was served. A plate of lotus-stamped mung bean cake, sweet potato cookies, and hardened tri-colored pudding was placed in the center of the table.

Zheng Hechong held his breath. Even though he wanted to urgently speak of the matter troubling him, he still waited for Yang Mujian.

Yang Mujian took his pleasant time lifting the teacup and taking a sip of it, then settling it back onto the table. "Now, you may speak." He told the man whilst lifting a small fork and slicing through the tricolored pudding as if it were butter.

"Have we gravely offended you, Master Yang?" Zheng Hechong questioned with a gruff voice. He didn't bother to touch the tea or snacks, which was a sign of disrespect.

"Elaborate." Yang Mujian mused. His emotions were hidden behind a veil and even with Zheng Hechong sitting so closely, he couldn't decipher the emotions.

"The price of my stocks have tanked and are practically worth nothing now. Shareholders and investors have been leaving left and right since midnight yesterday! On top of that, my son…" Zheng Hechong might as well have gotten a heart attack with how pale he was. "My son has gone missing."

The amusement in Yang Mujian's eyes disappeared. What did this man just say?

"Ever since he disappeared, it's been revealed there was a price placed on his mistress' head. I know my son loves that vixen to death, even so, he would not abandon his duties as the CEO. No one has seen him since midnight and he didn't show up at his company!" Zheng Hechong gravely shook his head. "There is no one in this city who has the authority to make a man like my son disappear off the grid-like that. It's practically unheard of. Except, there is only one person who could do it."

Yang Feng.

Yang Mujian's face contorted into a staggering scowl. The first person that came into mind was his grandson. Who else would've done it? Who else would've personally benefited from this the most?

"Master Yang, I hate to put you in a predicament like this; however, the Zhengs have been your avid supporter since the first day you were given the president plaque. The half-decade shareholder meeting is approaching very soon." Zheng Hechong placed down his best card. Even though the shares were divided amongst family members, together, the Zhengs have 10% shares whereas Yang Mujian had 15%.

"I could care less about what happens to the mistress. It will be good if your grandson can get rid of her, but I want my son back. Yes, I have many and yes, I can easily find replacements for a more competent CEO. However, at the end of the day, he is still my firstborn child and son! I will not stand for this disrespect."

Zheng Hechong was willing to sever all ties with Elder Yang who needed him more than ever. Without the support of major families, Yang Mujian's power would dwindle and he would have little to no control of what happens to Yang Enterprise.

"A request for my grandson's attendance will be placed shortly." Yang Mujian stood up with a thunderous and unpredictable expression on his face. That weak-minded little prick! So many lessons were flushed down the drain, so many efforts were put to waste.

A vein popped out on Yang Mujian's forehead. His grandson had gotten weaker than expected. And it was all because of some pillow talking from a woman.

Zheng Hechong saw that his arguments had gotten through. He stood up, bowed his head, and then left without a second look.

"Jing Caoxiao."

A man stepped out from a hidden corner. His tense body was on high-alert and he was ready to fulfill any order given to him.

"Contact the man in the navy green uniform." Yang Mujian stared at the lotus-stamped mung bean cake. "Whatever his name is, inform him I want him here as soon as possible."

He walked to his drawer and fumbled through it until he found a business card with a symbol of two snakes slithered up a winged staff. "Call forth these people." He placed the card into Jing Caoxiao's awaiting hands.

- - - - -

"Grandfather." Yang Feng didn't bother to wait for the servant to knock. He effortlessly strolled through the doors unscathed. Of course, he was not touched. The men in this house belonged to him. Sure, they were loyal to Yang Mujian in the past, but their loyalty changed with each different Master. People would naturally follow the person with the most power. In this case, Yang Feng seemed to be winning.

His cold, deserted eyes briefly glanced at the small table in the room. A fresh pot of tea was brewed and the pastries were already set up. Everything looked freshly prepared. But he knew better. There was a guest before him and he already knew who it was.

ZING!

A knife whirred straight towards Yang Feng's face. In a speed too fast for the human eye to catch, Yang Feng had caught the letter knife between his fingers. "We're human, not savages. Even when angered, one should use words, not violence." He dropped the knife that clattered on the mats.

"Unfilial, pathetic scum! Do you know what you have done?!" Yang Mujian snarled, turning around with burning eyes. "I remained patient when you targeted Zheng Tianyi once. I remained patient when you paraded around that minx around like a lovesick fool. I remained patient when you targeted that mistress, but this time, you have crossed the line!"

"Do you wish to disappoint me that much? Do you wish to lose your position that quickly?! Do not forget, you despicable little bastard, that there is another person who would readily take your position." Yang Mujian seethed, slamming his hands onto his desk. A deep crack formed on the mahogany.

Yang Feng patiently listened to whatever gibberish his grandfather was saying. He absorbed his words but didn't let it get to him. So what if there was a replacement? Heads can easily roll for those who tried to covet his throne.

"I will not tolerate this any longer. You've gotten deplorably weak."

Yang Feng's nonchalant eyes hardened. It could freeze Hell and back. The air around him became deadly. "What did you just say?"

"Get out of my sight." Yang Mujian snarled.

Yang Feng's eyes narrowed. 'Gladly.' He had a woman to return to and he planned on visiting her during lunch.

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