Transmigrated into the body of the vain and materialistic ex-girlfriend of a young master

Su Jingsheng stood there, watching the convoy disappear into the morning mist.

"Jing Sheng." Pei Zixian's voice came from the side.

Su Jingsheng turned her head and saw Pei Zixian standing next to a silver sports car.

"Jinghuai asked me to give you a ride," Pei Zixian said with a smile. "Get in the car."

Su Jingsheng nodded and walked over.

She opened the car door and got into the passenger seat. As she fastened her seatbelt, she heard Pei Zixian ask, "Did you have fun last night?"

Su Jingsheng paused for a moment.

She looked up and saw Pei Zixian looking at her.

The eyes behind the glasses are gentle, yet unfathomable.

But the girl wasn't buying it; she never spoke to people she didn't like or could talk to.

She gave a perfunctory "uh-huh" and then stopped responding.

Pei Zixian almost couldn't keep his smile.

I've never seen an Omega who does things so unpredictably, nor have I ever seen anyone dare to be so dismissive of a nobleman.

Su Jingsheng is either reckless or overconfident.

……

A convoy of black Bentleys rolled down the long driveway of the Bo family estate and stopped in front of the main building.

The car door opened, and Bo Jinghuai stepped out.

He stood there, looking up at the magnificent building before him.

Bohemian Palace, the residence of successive heads of the family, is bathed in sunlight that makes one dizzy as it falls on the Gothic spires.

He was the rightful young master of the Bo family, born to stand at the very top where the sunlight could shine.

But sometimes, the sunlight is too bright.

It was so dazzling that he couldn't even get past his own conscience.

He couldn't ignore his grandfather, nor could he be indifferent to the kindness shown to him by the Shen family.

Bo Jinghuai closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, the noble arrogance that the Crown Prince usually possessed was gone, replaced only by coldness and indifference.

It's another personality.

He stepped into the main building.

......

In the hall, Mr. Bo was already sitting on the sofa in the main seat, waiting.

The old man was twirling beads in his hand, his face expressionless, but his brow was slightly furrowed, clearly indicating that he was not in a good mood.

Hearing footsteps, the old man looked up and saw Bo Jinghuai walk in. He sneered, "So you know how to come back?"

The tyrant didn't respond. He sat down on the single sofa opposite the old man, crossed his long legs, leaned back, rested his arm on the armrest, and tapped his fingers idly.

His posture was languid, yet it exuded an indescribable sense of oppression.

The old man looked at him, thinking he was still the same grandson who, although rebellious, at least understood reason, and his anger flared up.

"Look what you've done on this cruise ship!"

The old man raised his voice a little, and stopped fiddling with the prayer beads in his hand, gripping them tightly.

"It's the Yan family's boy's birthday, go have some fun, I won't stop you."

"But you brought that Su Jingsheng with you, so high-profile that the whole of Beijing knew about it."

"Do you know what's going on outside right now? They're saying that the young master of the Bo family is completely infatuated with an Omega from a bankrupt family. He's spending money to establish his authority over her, and he's almost gotten into a fight with someone in public."

The old man grew angrier as he spoke, pointing his finger at the coffee table.

"Look at the Lu family, the Yan family, the Pei family, which family's heir is like you?"

"Just play around, the novelty wears off and you're done. Unlike you, who flaunts it everywhere."

"Where do you expect the Shen family girl to put her face? How am I supposed to face the deceased patriarch of the Shen family after I die?"

The tyrant remained silent.

He lowered his eyes, looking at his well-defined fingers, his face expressionless, as if he hadn't heard a single word the old man had said.

Seeing that he was so unyielding, the old man became even angrier.

"Jinghuai! Are you even listening—"

"What else are people saying outside?"

The tyrant suddenly spoke.

The voice was not loud, it was flat, but it carried a sense of oppression.

The old man's words abruptly stopped.

He stared at Bo Jinghuai's face for several seconds, then suddenly felt something was wrong.

The person in front of me still has the same face, but the look in their eyes is different.

The old man tentatively called out, "...Jing Huai?"

The tyrant raised his eyes and looked at him.

There was no warmth in those eyes, only a bottomless coldness.

"Please continue," the tyrant said, a slight smirk playing on his lips, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm listening."

A layer of cold sweat broke out on the old man's back.

He found out.

The person sitting here now is not his grandson, who, although rebellious, at least had principles and still respected his grandfather.

It's another one.

That tyrannical personality who fought his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, who never cared about human lives, rules, or any sentiments.

If we were to say what Jing Huai's main personality is, he is the most principled and principled young nobleman he has ever met.

That tyrant personality is the most insane and immoral of the nobles.

The old man wisely shut his mouth, not daring to say anything more in the face of his grandson's personality.

The hall was eerily quiet.

The tyrant waited a few seconds, and seeing that the old man was silent, he slowly spoke.

"If you won't tell me, then I will."

He leaned forward slightly and stared at the old man.

"First, don't interfere in my affairs."

The voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable firmness.

"Secondly, Su Jingsheng is a good match for me and can soothe my vulnerable periods. By driving her away, are you trying to kill me?"

The old man's lips moved, and he couldn't help but retort, "I didn't say I wanted to kick her out, I just wanted you not to spoil her too much, and not to be too high-profile..."

"I haven't finished speaking yet," the tyrant interrupted him.

The old man immediately shut up.

The tyrant looked at him and continued, "Thirdly, if you really want to repay the kindness of the Shen family, you must arrange a marriage."

He paused, a mocking smile curving his lips.

"You should marry him yourself."

"You—" The old man was so angry that his face turned pale and his hands were trembling.

"What nonsense are you talking about? How old is the Shen family girl?"

"That's none of my business." The tyrant stood up and looked down at the old man.

Anyway, I don't like it, I'm not interested, and I won't marry it.

After he finished speaking, he turned and walked towards the door.

The old man suddenly stood up: "Stop!"

The tyrant's advance did not stop.

The old man grew anxious and shouted outside, "Someone, stop him!"

The guards standing outside the door immediately rushed in and stood in front of the tyrant.

The tyrant stopped, glanced at them sideways, and raised his hand.

He didn't encounter anyone.

But the guard who snatched Su Jingsheng's phone at the dock that morning suddenly changed his expression. He was grabbed by the neck by an invisible force and lifted off the ground.

His feet were off the ground, his face was flushed red, and he desperately tried to grab his neck with both hands, but he couldn't grab anything.

The other guards turned pale.

The spiritual power—it was that person who appeared.

That person isn't as easy to talk to as the Crown Prince, nor does he treat people like human beings.

They all knelt down in unison, foreheads pressed to the ground, trembling all over. "Master, please calm your anger!"

No wonder they were afraid; whether they were enemies who disturbed the border or fellow countrymen who offended him, without exception, they all died.

This is the Bo family's biggest trump card and their strongest source of confidence.

The tyrant didn't look at them.

He stared at the guard who was struggling in mid-air with his neck being gripped by mental energy, his face expressionless.

It seems that crushing a person is no different from crushing an ant.

This is the pinnacle of Enigma's strength, forged amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

It's not just pheromones, but also mental energy.

At his level, killing doesn't even require lifting a finger.

"You touched her phone this morning."

The tyrant spoke.

The guard was speechless; he could only shake his head frantically, his eyes filled with terror and pleading.

The tyrant's eyes turned cold. "You dare touch my people?"

The words fell.

"Click—"

A crisp sound of bone cracking.

The guard's neck lolled to the side, his eyes were still open, but he was already lifeless.