The humiliation was not merely personal. It was public. Political. Calculated.
The Li Clan had not simply broken the engagement.
They had chosen someone else.
They had declared, without words, that Ye Chen was no longer worthy.
His hands trembled slightly before curling into fists.
"The Li Clan."
Each syllable was laced with restrained fury.
"I will not forget this offense."
His voice was no longer calm.
It was cold.
He stood amidst the wreckage of his chamber, fragments of porcelain crunching beneath his boots.
Slowly, his breathing steadied.
The rage did not disappear.
It condensed.
It hardened.
Like molten iron cooling into steel.
He closed his eyes.
When they opened again, the fury had been buried deep beneath layers of control.
***
While many were quietly sharpening their knives in the shadows and nurturing thoughts of revenge against Lin Feng, he himself remained blissfully unaware of the storm gathering beyond his sight.
