Moth Chasing the Sun 4

Yan Zhitang's bedchamber was as cold and severe as the woman herself. Contrary to Yan Fufeng's expectation of fury, she remained perfectly composed, not the least bit angry.

The head of the Yan family was first the patriarch of the great Yan clan, and only second their father. More than that, these children were merely chess pieces to consolidate the Yan family's glory.

If he harbored the slightest trace of paternal love, he would not have remained silent, watching with pleasure as his children schemed against one another.

His own children being killed by other children—did he not know?

Don't be ridiculous.

In Yan Wen's heart, only the final victor deserved to inherit the position of family head. Not only did he not stop them, he even fanned the flames and stirred the pot.

Yan Zhitang reclined on the couch, letting out a cold laugh.

If anyone chose this moment to stir up trouble, they were simply tired of living.

Yan Xianchuan couldn't make much of a splash. She was just a target set up by their father, meant to tell them all: whoever he chose to grant power to would have it, and whoever he decided to cast out had better accept it obediently.

This woman, always cold and decisive, still couldn't help her pupils contracting when she recalled that night.

Originally, the one responsible for the Dingyang City business had been the third uncle's son.

The family head was inclined to delegate authority, but he would never let one person control all the business.

She herself primarily managed affairs in Moon City.

Moon City was where the main family was based, and all the major deals were brokered there. But there were also numerous smaller ventures in various regions, along with dealings with local gangs. There was no need for Yan Zhitang to control all of that alone; dividing it among the uncles and cousins was also for the sake of family harmony.

After all, the main family couldn't hog all the meat and leave nothing for the branches to taste.

Dingyang City was neither large nor small—lucrative enough to skim from. Over such matters, the family head had always turned a blind eye.

But her cousin had crossed the line.

With one's own family business, even if the meat spoiled, it had to stay in the pot—never be shared with outsiders.

Her father didn't get angry often, nor did he need to. No one could make him angry. The day she received the notice summoning her back to the main residence, she thought perhaps something had gone wrong in her own division, but on careful reflection, there was no oversight.

She asked the assistant, Zeng, who had come to notify her, but he said nothing, only that she would understand once she got there.

By the time everyone had gathered, Yan Zhitang swept her gaze across the room. Every relative who managed family business, regardless of which department they belonged to, had been summoned, no exceptions. They all stood in a circle, not even a seat provided.

The family head arrived late, settling into the chair at the head of the room. He raised a hand. "Bring that beast in."

He still looked perfectly mild-mannered. Yan Zhitang privately thought her father might never change expression in his entire life.

Her cousin was dragged in by two men holding his arms, leaving two smears of blood on the floor.

His face looked relatively clean, though pale, lips cracked, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes were unfocused, and his hair was still dripping wet.

His clothes had clearly been changed, but blood was slowly seeping through. They must have given him a quick rinse, but his wounds had split open again, soaking the fabric and pooling on the floor.

The two underlings dragged him to the center of the hall, then released him and withdrew.

Without support, he crashed to the ground. The thud was painful just to hear.

That fall sent another gush of blood spilling out, forming a puddle on the floor.

"Third brother's boy, rise and answer," the family head said from his seat, idly turning a string of prayer beads. His face bore a smile, and his tone was gentle. "Come greet your uncles and cousins."

Anyone listening to his words alone would think they were visiting relatives during the New Year.

Her cousin trembled all over, as if his very bones were shaking—clearly racked with pain. But he still forced himself to rise and knelt properly, saying, "Wanzhi greets all the uncles and cousins, and greets all brothers and sisters."

"To be a descendant of the Yan family, one must know propriety and observe it." Yan Wen's smile was warm. "Tell us yourself: what mistake have you made?"

"I..." He shuddered, panicked, and lifted his head to glance at the family head on the main seat—his biological uncle—who was watching him with a genial smile.

His heart jolted, the pain in his body seeming to multiply. Trembling, he said, "I gave a portion of the Dingyang City business to the Lin family."

"Say it all," the family head said with a dismissive glance.

Yan Wanzhi clenched his teeth and forced out each word: "I took a liking to the Lin family's youngest daughter. To curry favor with her, I handed over most of our orders to the Lin family."

At these words, the crowd's expressions turned colorful, barely concealing their shock. Third Uncle's face was the ugliest of all. Yan Wanzhi was his son, and certainly not lacking in ability—otherwise he wouldn't have been assigned to oversee the arms business in Dingyang City.

He felt both humiliated and incredulous. How had he never noticed his son was a fool who could be ensnared by a pretty face?

When my son was at home, he had vision and ambition, managing the company with order and skill. There must be some misunderstanding!

He stepped forward. "Eldest Brother, Wanzhi has always been a good child, his abilities plain for all to see. You yourself assigned him to Dingyang City. He's absolutely not that kind of person!"

The family head let out a long sigh, and his assistant Zeng stepped forward, producing photographs of Yan Wanzhi and the Lin girl being lovey-dovey, showing them to the crowd.

Looking at her, one had to admit she was attractive—beautiful, in fact. She had a feral, raw quality, quite different from the gentle, obedient omegas currently so admired.

But even if she was different, she was still just an omega, just a woman. What was so special about her?

For ordinary people, setting aside marriage—even just dating—finding a stunning beauty was no easy feat unless you matched her in looks, had exceptional talent, came from wealth, or possessed some other personal charm.

But they were not ordinary people.

This was the Yan great mansion—a palace. Who was Yan Wanzhi? A trusted heir of the Yan family. Not just one distinctive omega—even ten or twenty of varying types would raise no eyebrows.

Beauties were rare for ordinary people, but for them, they were merely entertainment to pass the time. What was all this talk of love? Could you eat it? Would it make you immortal or rain money from the sky?

Deals worth tens of millions by the minute—he gives it all away with a few words? Was that even his money to give?

That was everyone's money!

He gave it away just like that—did he bother asking anyone else?

The crowd exchanged conflicted looks. The family head asked again, "Wanzhi, have I wronged you?"

Yan Wanzhi's eyes were full of bitterness. He shook his head and said in a low voice, "It was my genuine wish to give it to the Lin family. But I had my reasons!"

"Xiaoyun is treated terribly at home. Her mother has no standing and is always bullied by the other mistresses. She cried to me about it—how could I ignore that? So I went to the Lin family head and told him the orders were given for Xiaoyun's sake, and that he should treat Xiaoyun and her mother well."

Kneeling, he shuffled forward on his knees and knocked his head against the floor twice, begging, "This was all my own idea. I know I did wrong—I shouldn't have used family business as a personal favor. But Xiaoyun knew nothing about it. She is completely innocent!"

"Son! Were you drugged?!" Third Uncle shouted in disbelief.

Yan Wanzhi met his father's gaze, his heart feeling as if it had been stabbed. "I truly love Xiaoyun. She's different from everyone else. She truly understands me and loves me—not the power and status of the Yan family."

"I know the family intends for me to marry for alliance, but I don't want to marry anyone else." His voice was anguished yet hopeful. "If the Lin family were on equal footing with ours, I thought, perhaps Uncle would let me marry Xiaoyun."

The moment he finished, his own father stood agape, shocked beyond words.

"You... I... you you..."

"You beast!" Third Uncle roared, stepping forward to slap him across the face. "Wretched thing! Have you lost your mind?! How did I raise such a son!"

Yan Wanzhi was knocked to the ground, regret and grievance tangled together, and he burst into tears against the floor. "...Xiaoyun and I truly love each other."

And what the hell was "true love" anyway?

Ask that question to anyone in this room, and every single one of them would answer the same—What? You're in the mood to joke with me today?

What was the use of this so-called true love, this so-called being in love?

If you said, having a true lover meant you'd be the next Yan family head—well, that was simple. Everyone would instantly, immediately, on the spot, develop a love so deep they'd die without it.

Yan Wen narrowed his eyes and said unhurriedly, "When I first discovered this, I was actually gratified. I thought you were trying to pull in other forces to contend for the position of family head. But I never imagined it was for a woman."

"Wanzhi, you have disappointed me greatly."

"The premise for my encouraging you all to contend was for the family's development—to select the most outstanding heir. Your struggles with one another, though each using their own methods, have all been honorable, without harming family harmony. Your original intentions were the same: for the family!"

Though he remained seated, the smile had vanished from his face. His gaze swept the room, carrying authority without anger. "As a descendant of the Yan family, to betray the ancestral precepts and damage family interests for personal desire—a son like you, unfilial, disloyal, and unbrotherly—how could you deserve to be a Yan?"

"But since we still share the bond of uncle and nephew, let's do this." Yan Wen smiled mildly and said gently, "I'll let you and that Lin girl travel together. Consider it gratitude for all the effort you've put into the family. It's just that you won't be allowed into the ancestral graves."

Yan Wanzhi's head shot up, eyes splitting with rage. "Uncle!" he cried out.

Yan Wen waved his hand, and the two men who had dragged him in emerged from the corner again, clamping a hand over his mouth and hauling him away.

Third Uncle opened his mouth, watching his son's bloodstained trail as he kicked and struggled, watching his terrified, pleading eyes. In the end, he said nothing and stepped back.

How many children did I have again? he wondered, glancing over to see another daughter looking at him with apparent concern.

Never mind. He was just a worthless brat; without him, there were plenty of other children to share his burdens.

As Yan Wanzhi was dragged away to his certain death, none of the peers still standing stepped forward to plead for him.

Yan Zhitang stole a glance at her eldest brother, Yan Mingjing, and saw his expression utterly unperturbed. She sneered inwardly.

Keep pretending. What a performer.

Everyone knew Yan Wanzhi had been closest to him—his right-hand man. Now that he'd made a fool of himself and been ordered killed by their father, Yan Zhitang bet he was spitting blood inside.

Yan Zhitang gave a silent snicker and lowered her lashes.

"The Yan family has weathered countless shifts in power, great and small, and still stands tall. Why? Because of unity." Yan Wen swept his gaze across the room and said flatly, "If Yan Wanzhi had truly insisted on marrying a woman, the worst we'd say is that he was foolish. But if it didn't harm the family, then let him marry—I'm not an unreasonable man."

"No, the fault lies in his treachery. Utterly absurd."

He turned his prayer beads twice, his gaze shifting until it landed on his second son. Smiling, he said, "Xungui, go and clean up the Lin family as well."

Yan Xungui's temperament was mild, just like his father's. He had the same peach-blossom eyes, as if carved from the same mold. "Yes, Father."

"If such a tale of mutual affection should arise again, you must tell me. I am the family head, but I am also your elder—we are family. Is there anything that cannot be discussed?"

Yan Wen brushed at dust that wasn't there and sighed. "It's getting late. Stay at home tonight; leave tomorrow."

That was the matter settled, and everyone was being dismissed.

The crowd filed out, Yan Zhitang among them. Only Yan Xungui lingered behind, a step slower than the rest.

What she didn't know was that once everyone had gone, this second brother smiled and asked, "Father truly permits... mutual affection?"

The family head leaned back in his armchair, saying flatly, "Of course not. The Yan family keeps no fools."

A mind full of romance, disregarding the family's grand plans for the sake of a lover—if that wasn't a fool, what was?

At this very moment, this fool their family had defined—Yan Xianchuan—was methodically recounting the events at the banquet to her beloved, repeating every word and every person's reaction in exhaustive detail.

Lu Mingqiu listened to her account and immediately said, "This is an opportunity."

Her eyes glittered. "The Yan family is watertight. Anyone we've planted can never reach a high position or touch the core."

Yan Xianchuan promptly declared, "That's what I was thinking. I'll be the mole."

Though Lu Mingqiu was deep in thought over her plans, she couldn't help laughing at her declaration.

Too cooperative.

This woman was still vowing earnestly: "I'll do it flawlessly. No one will ever find out."

"There's no rush for that." Lu Mingqiu said with a smile. "Even as a Yan family member, you won't be touching the true core anytime soon. What matters first is figuring out how to keep the family head from discarding you after one use—how to make him see your worth and ability."

Given her former reputation, that wouldn't be a simple matter.

Still, having a foothold was already excellent. They must not be impatient; they had to move slowly and steadily.

This Yan Wen was truly terrifying.

Lu Mingqiu had read his files—few as they were—but even those fragments hinted at the bloody storms of his younger days.

He too was an illegitimate son, taken in early by the previous family head and raised alongside the other heirs, like rearing gu worms in a jar, devouring each other until only one remained.

Of his generation, only three had survived.

And the previous family head had died of sudden illness just half a year after Yan Wen's succession.

The records were vague on details, but the Yan family had risen through the arms trade. Everyone handled guns and cannons from childhood. Anyone with poor constitution would have been weeded out of the competition long ago.

Would a man fit to be family head have a weak body?

Yan Wen was about the same age as the previous head had been upon retirement, yet he was still hale and vigorous—one might believe he was barely past thirty.

The Yan family was extremely troublesome.

"I'll do my best!" Yan Xianchuan said seriously.

Lu Mingqiu looked at her and couldn't stop the smile spilling across her face.

"I believe you," she said. "Alright, it's late. Time to wash up and sleep."

They bathed separately, but though washing could be separate, sleeping could not—there was only one bed.

Fortunately, it wasn't the first time. Each had her own blanket, and they lay on their own sides.

Once the lights were off, the room dimmed. The bed curtains were drawn, making the bed a little world of its own.

Her beloved lay right by her hand, breathing steadily—impossible to ignore.

Yan Xianchuan turned over and whispered, "Want to hold hands?"

Lu Mingqiu: ?

She thought she'd misheard and answered reflexively, "What?"

Yan Xianchuan repeated, "Want to hold hands?"

Lu Mingqiu paused, then whispered back, "Don't get too greedy."

"Understood," Yan Xianchuan said. "So... want to hold hands?"

Lu Mingqiu closed her eyes, then turned her head. Even in the dark, those eyes were gleaming, filled with nothing but pleading.

Lu Mingqiu: "...Fine."