This was a wealthy neighborhood, dotted with stylish villas—some in European style, some British, and others a Gothic hybrid. Nestled on the mountainside, the view was one of luxury and grandeur.
A silver Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of a European-style villa. Ye Chen stepped out of the car and walked inside with graceful poise. He was colder than usual—not as aggressive as in the business world, but carrying a restrained sharpness.
"Young Master Third, welcome back. The old master is waiting for you," the elder butler greeted him respectfully and led him in.
The interior of the villa was extravagantly decorated, crafted by a renowned designer. It was so lavish it bordered on ostentatious—the golden gleam nearly dazzled Ye Chen's eyes.
A flicker of nearly imperceptible mockery passed through his eyes.
This villa gave him only one feeling: coldness. Bone-deep coldness.
At the head of the room sat Ye Zhenxiong, exuding authority. His temples had turned white, and he leaned on a cane. This man, who had once dominated the business world, still carried a commanding presence. Though his eyes had grown cloudy with age, they retained a piercing sharpness.
His third wife, Ruan Cuiyu, not yet thirty, sat off to the side with a cold sneer. Her eight-year-old son, Ye Yutong, sat quietly beside her, his timid expression evoking sympathy.
Ye Chen's second brother, Ye Yutang, was also present. His refined face couldn't mask the greed in his eyes.
"Dad, I'm back," Ye Chen greeted blandly, his tone flat. It was family tradition for him to come back for dinner once a week.
"Our busy man is finally back. Such a grand entrance, making us all wait," Ruan Cuiyu sneered.
"Well, he is the CEO of S Group. Of course he's going to put on airs. Hmph!" Ye Yutang added sarcastically.
Ye Chen remained expressionless. "Sorry, Dad. Things at the company have been busy lately."
Despite his words, there wasn't a hint of apology in his tone—his face remained cold and detached.
"Dinner," the old man commanded, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room. The room instantly fell silent.
Ye Chen laughed bitterly to himself.
Ye Yutong shyly called out, "Third Brother." Ye Chen glanced at him and gave a small nod. The boy beamed with joy, but when Ruan Cuiyu tugged on his sleeve, he lowered his head again timidly.
"Ye Chen," the old man said with authority, "Yutang is opening a jewelry store. Allocate him some funds and help him build connections."
"Yes, Father."
Every time he stepped into this place, it felt like a frozen cellar—so cold it was suffocating. In Ye Zhenxiong's eyes, he was nothing more than a tool. A man who had controlled everything all his life naturally saw others only as means to an end.
The true master of the Ye family was Ye Zhenxiong.
The true heir was Ye Yutang.
The one he cherished most was Ye Yutong.
And as for Ye Chen…
He was nothing more than the seed of a reckless affair. A bastard born in secret.
An illegitimate son who had accidentally killed the old man's favorite child.
Ye Chen laughed coldly in his heart. One day, he would make the old man see—
How a man fights back against emotional coldness.