He tricked the female lead into becoming his boyfriend, but then went on to criticize the male lead.

Wen Zhaoci didn't even spare her a glance, only glancing indifferently at the dining table before walking straight to her seat and sitting down, his aura frighteningly low.

He Anran was met with a rebuff, and the smile on her face froze for a moment, but she dared not show her dissatisfaction. She could only turn around and go to the kitchen to serve Wen Zhaoci rice herself.

Wen Fengzhi looked at his son, who exuded a cold aura, his brows furrowed tightly. He put down his chopsticks and spoke sternly, "You still know how to come back? Your mind is never on the company. Have you forgotten all the management principles I taught you?"

In Wen Fengzhi's eyes, Wen Zhaoci was a good-for-nothing who neglected the company's important affairs and only cared about his personal feelings.

Upon hearing this, Wen Zhaoci raised her eyes to look at Wen Fengzhi. Her deep eyes instantly turned cold, devoid of any warmth. Her tone was indifferent yet carried a sharp edge: "The company's performance this month has increased by 30% compared to last month. Do you think this is the credit of you, the nominal CEO, or mine, the young CEO?"

One sentence left Wen Fengzhi speechless.

He knew perfectly well that he was just a figurehead as the boss; the real power in the company had long been in Wen Zhaoci's hands. All the company's decisions, big and small, were controlled by Wen Zhaoci, and he had no say in them at all.

Seeing Wen Fengzhi speechless, a hint of sarcasm flashed in Wen Zhaoci's eyes.

Looking at this loving and comfortable family, he felt even colder.

When his mother passed away, Wen Fengzhi immediately married He Anran and neglected him. In order to please He Anran, he even abandoned him, who was only seven years old, on a deserted island and left him to fend for himself.

Now that the family is living a comfortable and carefree life, Wen Zhaoci's eyes turned slightly cold. She already had a plan in mind. It was time to find them something to do so they wouldn't be so idle.

He spoke slowly, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable command: "Wen Zhaozhe is already 18 years old, it's time for him to gain some experience. I plan to send him to that deserted island I used to live on tomorrow, for a week."

"What?!"

He Anran had just walked over with her food when she heard these words. She almost dropped the bowl in her hand, and her face turned deathly pale.

How could she not know that deserted island? It was desolate and uninhabited, with intermittent signal. Forget about air conditioning, heating, or servants, she would have to find her own clean drinking water and food. The environment was extremely harsh. If an eighteen-year-old went there for a week, she would probably lose half her life!

He Anran was so frightened that her hands and feet turned ice cold. Her fingers clenched tightly under the table, and her sharp nails dug deep into her palms, leaving red marks, but she felt no pain.

She quickly looked at Wen Fengzhi beside her, her eyes filled with pleading, her voice trembling with tears, and said timidly, "Fengzhi, please tell Xiaoci! Xiaozhe is still so young, how can he endure that kind of hardship? Going to a place like that will cause him harm!"

Wen Fengzhi was also shocked by Wen Zhaoci's decision and immediately slammed his fist on the table in opposition: "No! Absolutely not! Your brother is still so young, how can he go to such a place to suffer? You're being ridiculous!"

Seeing Wen Zhaozhi protecting Wen Zhaozhe, Wen Zhaozhi suddenly looked up, his gaze piercing Wen Fengzhi like an icy blade, his voice as cold as frost: "When I was seven years old, when you abandoned me on that deserted island, didn't you think I was too young? Didn't you think I would suffer?"

One sentence, like a resounding slap, landed hard on Wen Fengzhi's face.

His face turned deathly pale instantly. He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but looking into Wen Zhaoci's eyes, which were filled with pain and coldness, he couldn't utter a single word.

What happened back then is something he owes Wen Zhaoci, something he can never repay in this lifetime.

He finally lost his nerve, dejectedly lowered his hand, lowered his head, picked up a piece of green vegetable with his chopsticks, put it into Wen Zhaozhe's bowl, and said in a trembling voice, "Xiao Zhe... eat more."

This attitude already constitutes tacit approval of Wen Zhaoci's decision.

Looking at the silent Wen Fengzhi, He Anran felt her heart sink to the bottom, her whole body turned ice cold, but she dared not utter another word of objection.

Wen Zhaoci was too lazy to look at their hypocritical and cowardly appearance any longer. She put down her chopsticks, picked up a tissue, and slowly wiped her lips. Her cold gaze swept over He Anran's pale face, and she said, word by word, "The helicopter will take off on time at seven o'clock tomorrow morning."

After saying that, he didn't linger. He got up, walked upstairs to the second floor, and returned to his own room.

He locked the door behind him, shutting out all the sounds from downstairs. The room instantly became incredibly quiet, so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat.

Without the disturbance of outsiders, and without the cold, hard defenses surrounding him, Wen Zhaoci leaned against the door, and a gentle ripple finally appeared in his deep, pool-like eyes.

My mind is filled with images of Sang Jiuning.

The way she blushed when I kissed her, her soft, sweet voice, and every unintentional smile and frown of hers—all these vividly appeared before my eyes.

Although they had only been apart for a few hours, he already missed her terribly.

I miss her, I miss her so much, I miss her terribly.

I want to see her right away, to hold her tightly in my arms, to feel her warmth, and to confirm that she is right beside me.

He walked to the bedside, slumped down, raised his hand to rub his temples, and felt a flood of longing overwhelm him.

Sang Jiuning, come back soon.

Don't keep me waiting too long.

He casually ran his fingertips along the edge of his phone, the screen remaining on his chat with Sang Jiuning.

The young man had handsome, cold features and an aura of indifference that kept strangers at bay.

Suddenly, a series of rapid and impatient knocks came from outside the door, the force of which shattered the tranquility of the room.

Wen Zhaoci's long, slender eyebrows suddenly furrowed slightly, and a hint of impatience and annoyance flashed across his eyes.

Without even thinking, he could guess who the person was with his eyes closed.

In the entire Wen family, apart from his extremely hypocritical father, Wen Fengzhi, no one dared to knock on his door so brazenly, and no one would dare to disturb him while he was resting.

His fingertips paused, he didn't look up, his voice was as cold as ice, devoid of any warmth, and it carried faintly through the door: "If you have something to say, say it; if not, don't bother me."

Wen Fengzhi, standing outside the door, froze, a look of embarrassment and awkwardness on his face.

He has lived most of his life, and he is decisive in the business world and always dignified and respectable in front of outsiders. He has never bowed down to anyone.

But just now in the bedroom, He Anran had been pleading with him, her eyes red, for more than ten minutes, every word she uttered was a plea for him to save Wen Zhaozhe.

Wen Zhaozhe was his only youngest son, the apple of his and He Anran's eye. In the end, he softened and had no choice but to swallow his pride and ask Wen Zhaoci for help.