Chapter 33: The Greedy Muse

She ascended to the highest floor of Cassade, where numerous studios lined the corridor.

At night, she switched on the lights. The studio offered a splendid view—mist-shrouded mountains and distant city towers piercing the clouds. She sat within, tying up her hair and setting to work. She was so absorbed in her painting that she nearly forgot the presence behind her.

After receiving the herbal medicine from his assistant, Fu Yanyan settled onto the studio’s sofa. To be with her again, even if only to watch her from nearby, filled him with contentment.

Before long, a fine rain began to fall outside; suddenly, a surge of mist cloaked the floor-to-ceiling windows in a veil. He rose, stepped outside, and within a minute several bodyguards arrived to clean the glass.

Only then did Zhong Huayan realize she was not alone in the room. Indeed, she would glance at the scenery for a few minutes as she painted, drawing inspiration from what lay beyond the pane, but now the condensation obscured her view.

“No need to clean it,” she said.

The bodyguards looked to the man on the sofa. With a wave, Fu Yanyan dismissed them. “Her words are as good as mine.”

The bodyguards exchanged glances before leaving. Their lives belonged to the Fu family, and thus they obeyed without question.

Fu Yanyan trusted her deeply—a trust born from her decisiveness, her clear-sightedness in critical moments, her ability to judge rightly.

After they left, he gazed at a message on his phone:

[Boss, just now in the restroom, Miss Li ran into Xu Yaochuan. Xu Yaochuan didn’t leave the restroom but instead jumped into the lake—he must have discovered the miniature surveillance device we installed.]

After half an hour of painting, Zhong Huayan felt weary. She picked up a cigarette and placed it between her lips. Suddenly, a flicker of flame appeared—the same scarred wrist held out a lighter beside her.

Their eyes met as she touched the cigarette to the flame. Abruptly, a white-violet lightning flash split the sky outside! In that instant, as she stood up suddenly, a thunderclap boomed and Fu Yanyan swept her into his arms.

Fire, electricity, light, thunder... and the pounding of his heart. He seemed an archangel from a fresco, noble in his protection, yet beneath that sanctity, a devil’s greedy desire lurked.

Love is selfish, but fear is even more terrifying than selfishness.

He was afraid she would leave him again.

No matter what it took, from this day forward, he would live and die with her—he would never let her go.

The black heavens were split by purple lightning as his gaze shifted, his deep voice dull and shadowed: “Ah Hua, stay away from Xu Yaochuan. There are some things I must do myself. You need only pursue your dreams and your passion.”

She looked up, her gaze carrying an unknowing allure. “Why are you bringing up Xu Yaochuan again? I don’t like hearing his name.”

A sudden reluctance to let go seized Fu Yanyan, but his voice was awkward, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to mention him...”

“You know he’s come to Cassade?”

“Yes. He comes every year, often bringing starlets to dine with directors.”

Fu Yanyan swallowed hard. Now he understood the terror born of love.

He feared no one, felt contempt for most, but every time he saw her, he lost control.

“If I stay close to him...?”

“I’ll kill him! And I’ll keep you by my side forever, never letting you take a single step away!”

His voice was hoarse, low, every word bitten off with force.

He was angry without realizing it. Lightning flared and thunder crashed outside; suddenly, she thought Fu Yanyan’s madness surpassed even Xu Yaochuan’s.

When she stepped out of his embrace, retreating a step, he panicked, at a loss.

“Ah Hua, that’s not what I meant. Just promise me you’ll stay away from Xu Yaochuan. I won’t lose control. I’m afraid of what I might do. If you keep your distance, I’ll give you anything you want. Will you?”

Zhong Huayan laughed coldly. In the past, she might have joked, “Then go pluck a star from the sky for me!”

It sounded absurd, but after Xu Yaochuan’s leap earlier, she dared not jest with madmen anymore.

“You worry too much. I would never get close to Xu Yaochuan—I find him repulsive. Besides, didn’t you say you’d be the sharpest blade in my hand? Why would I need to tangle with him myself?”

She gazed at his strikingly handsome face, so close now. Was he a fallen angel, or a demon masquerading as one?

She reveled in the aura of art that surrounded him—every inch of him was crafted by the heavens, his cold perfection near unearthly.

He seemed to look down upon the world from high above, detached from all earthly things.

In his younger years, Fu Yanyan suffered a kind of psychological affliction—he neither laughed nor cried, a dangerous thing for a child.

Yet the moment he smiled at her was when his life truly began.

As she grew older, Zhong Huayan always felt Fu Yanyan should never fall in love, never even date—he should remain forever unattainable, a one-of-a-kind rarity.

Later, she discovered that behind his perfect manners lurked unspeakable schemes and desires.

He lied to her with a straight face, saying he saw her only as a sister, while secretly cherishing her, even hiding her “corpse” away from the world, loving her in secret.

Now Zhong Huayan felt that sometimes, shattering something too lofty and perfect was far more breathtaking.

True beauty is imperfect. It is not a night of tranquil peace, but one of thunder and lightning.

Only what is deeply scarred leaves a precious, lasting mark upon time.

“I need to paint now. You’ve interrupted my thoughts,” she said.

Fu Yanyan quickly stepped aside. With a cigarette between her parched lips, her profile was calm against the storm outside—startlingly serene.

She gazed out at the tempest, inspiration surging. This storm was the muse and mother of her painting, birthing a work that seemed to echo with the sounds of nature.

And she was his muse, the soul that granted him a second life.

Fu Yanyan walked outside. Had anyone else tried to use him, he would have torn them to pieces.

But if it was her, if it was Ah Hua, he felt only joy—she still needed him.

Meanwhile, several members of the Fu Corporation’s management team waited anxiously outside, for the situation was urgent.

“Mr. Fu, the Guan family is now making every effort to acquire the tech company we established overseas. They’re more eager than we are to monopolize that market.”

A staff member handed him a stack of documents.

Fu Yanyan’s presence was so overwhelming that the roomful of chatter fell instantly silent the moment he entered.

Outsiders saw him as the city’s Buddha, a flower on a distant peak, a renowned philanthropist.

But the management knew that Fu Yanyan had fought his way to the top by seizing and “devouring” others—his methods were only more covert and shadowy.

In business, Fu Yanyan was a genius. His age and achievements made him a force to be reckoned with on the world stage—a man like him might not appear again for centuries.

Yet instead of looking at the urgent reports, he scrolled through the status of his investment companies.