That suspicion hardened into something concrete. Without a word, Ling Yun turned around and walked back. The house was just as he'd left it — not a single servant. He didn't stop to wonder about it. He went straight upstairs.
In the study, the paternity test lay in plain sight on the desk. Glaringly obvious.
But there was still no one around.
The people who had just been talking about him and the Jiang family's real child were nowhere to be found. He stood in the empty study, and a strange smile crept onto his face. Then he walked toward his parents' room. As he approached, he heard Wu Meiyun's voice through the phone.
The room was well soundproofed — but he still caught fragments, just enough to make out who his mother was calling and what she was saying.
Listening to Wu Meiyun's tender, earnest instructions to whoever was on the other end of the line, Ling Yun felt hot tears stubbornly threatening to overflow.
So it had all been a performance. Put on for him.
He quietly sniffled against his reddening nose, walked back to his room, and began to pack. Whatever. Nothing to it — so he wasn't a Jiang. So his family was through with him. Fine. He'd leave. Was that so hard?
Gucci limited-edition baseball set. Armani current-season tees. Kiton shirts. Brioni bespoke casual suit. Vacheron Constantin open-worked mechanical watch… Everything Ling Yun liked got shoved into a suitcase. When it was done, he grabbed the car keys from the table — and then stopped in the doorway.
These things all belonged to the Jiang name. He wasn't a Jiang anymore. What right did he have to any of it?
When that thought landed, the tears he'd been holding back finally spilled over.
Wuwu. He had no mom, no dad, no home anymore.
Swallowing the pain, Ling Yun unpacked everything he'd just put in the suitcase and put it all back. What didn't belong to him, he didn't want. He refused to believe a grown adult couldn't support himself. In the end, he walked out of the Jiang house with nothing — completely alone.
The moment Ling Yun left, Wu Meiyun let the curtain drop and pressed her hand over her mouth.
Tears poured down her face.
She was in pain too. She had seen Ling Yun come home from the window.
But she didn't know how to face the child who had called her Mom for eighteen years. Every time she thought about how Ling Yun had received all her love while her own child suffered outside for eighteen years — she couldn't look at Ling Yun. She couldn't stop him from leaving. She could only watch from behind the curtain.
The moment the door closed, Wu Meiyun felt five different things at once — and beneath them all, a breath of relief.
Perhaps this was the best outcome for everyone.
The music at the bar was deafening. Ling Yun sat at the counter and drank cocktail after cocktail. After leaving the Jiang house, he had nowhere to go and didn't want to see any friends, so he'd found a bar to drink at. But drowning sorrows in alcohol only made them heavier — his mood got worse with every glass.
"Well, well. Isn't this the second young master of the Jiang family? Drinking alone? Haha — does big brother want to keep you company in your loneliness?"
Just as Ling Yun's mood had sunk to its lowest point, a shrill, sarcastic voice rang out right next to his ear, accompanied by whistles from all sides.
He turned to find Sun Wenhao's undisguised gloating expression, and behind him, his crowd of lackeys already puckering up for the performance. Ling Yun's eyes went cold with contempt.
Idiots, the lot of them.
"And look at that — got thrown out of the Jiang house and you're still acting big in front of me? Jiang Ling Yun, do you know your place or not? Want me to remind you? You're nothing but a lucky stray that stumbled into the Jiang family and enjoyed eighteen years of their luxury. Wake up, now — crawl back to whatever gutter you came from. Stop polluting my eyes."
Sun Wenhao had long resented Ling Yun. Now that Ling Yun had lost the backing of the Jiang family, the sight of Ling Yun meeting his eye without flinching was maddening.
"Get lost." Ling Yun was in no mood.
"You dare tell me to get lost? Who do you think you are?!"
That single word snapped Sun Wenhao's last thread of control. Especially when he thought about the five percent of Tianyun Group shares he'd lost to Ling Yun — the rage was unbearable. Today, he would not only teach Ling Yun a lesson, he would take back those shares. Otherwise, where was the face of the Sun family's eldest son?
He reached out, intending to grab Ling Yun by the collar.
Ling Yun had had plenty to drink, but his head was sharp and his reflexes faster. He was out of the way before Sun Wenhao's hand arrived. His bright, round eyes fixed coldly on him. "Sun Wenhao. You want to start something? You want to hit me?" Years of experience in fights had taught him: always stay on the side of the righteous.
"What if I do?"
Sun Wenhao had one last shred of reason — until Ling Yun's tone dissolved it. He clenched his fist and swung it straight at that unreasonably beautiful face.
"Young Lord Sun, Young Lord Sun, let's talk this out, please don't use your fists!"
The bartender saw the situation turning ugly and immediately started shouting.
But Ling Yun had been waiting for exactly that move. The frustration and hurt inside him had nowhere to go.
Since someone wanted a demonstration — fine. He would oblige. After Sun Wenhao threw the first punch, Ling Yun swung back without mercy.
One solid fist to Sun Wenhao's gut. Sun Wenhao doubled over in pain.
Being hit only made Sun Wenhao hit harder, grabbing anything within reach and hurling it at Ling Yun.
The whole bar counter descended into chaos — bottles flying, stools toppling, the smell of liquor flooding the air. The bartender, perfectly calm, crouched behind the counter and dialed the owner. Neither of these two was someone he could afford to upset. Only the owner could handle this.
"Young Lord Sun, come on, go!" Sun Wenhao's lackeys cheered from the sidelines.
The commotion grew.
The music in the bar was loud, and the already-drunk crowd in the dance floor was bouncing and gyrating. But the noise from the counter was loud enough to cut through even that, and people started migrating over to see what was happening. When they realized who was fighting, they formed a ring around them on their own.
"Isn't that Young Lord Ling?"
"The other one who's getting smashed — looks like Young Lord Sun."
"Why are they fighting — did Sun Wenhao not get over losing?" Many of the club-goers recognized both Ling Yun and Sun Wenhao, and word of the previous night's race and wager had already gotten around. The crowd buzzed with excitement.
"Young Lord Ling, go! Go!"
Young people gravitated toward the strong. Ling Yun was good at racing, devastatingly handsome, and from a prominent family — the trifecta that made him an idol.
"Hss—!"
A fist caught Sun Wenhao square in the right eye socket. The piercing pain made him stagger backward, and his lackeys rushed in to separate the two fighters. Looking at Sun Wenhao's face, they were genuinely stunned. They hadn't expected him to fold so fast. Just a few minutes, and there was nothing left to look at.
And this Young Lord Ling — really. Everyone knows you don't punch people in the face. Yet here he'd gone and aimed straight for Sun Wenhao's face every single time.
Sun Wenhao's entire face had gone black and blue, crowned with one magnificent panda eye. The picture of misery.
"Get them." Not willing to let this go, Sun Wenhao waved at his lackeys. With Ling Yun no longer a Jiang, he had nothing to fear.
"Young Lord Sun… that might not be a good idea." The lackeys hesitated.
They'd heard Sun Wenhao say Ling Yun wasn't a Jiang. But until they actually saw the Jiang family acknowledge a new heir, they weren't bold enough to openly offend Ling Yun. The world turned in unexpected ways. For people whose influence was nowhere near the Jiang or Sun families — they couldn't afford to make enemies.
"Sun Wenhao, is this the best you've got?" Ling Yun rubbed his sore chest and turned a sharp warning look on the lackeys. He wasn't stupid. One against a pack — he'd lose.
The lackeys, already hesitant, wilted further under Ling Yun's blazing stare.
Sun Wenhao nearly choked with rage watching his crew fold under a single glance. "Ling Yun is nothing but a lucky stray! The Jiang family doesn't even want him anymore! You're seriously scared of him?! Or are you saying my Sun family means nothing to you?" When he couldn't overawe anyone himself, he started throwing family name around like a weapon.
Nothing Ling Yun despised more.
"Well, do we…" The lackeys looked at each other, trapped.
"Wait — did I just hear that? Young Lord Ling isn't a Jiang?"
"Young Lord Ling got abandoned by the Jiangs?"
"Is that true or false — he was actually switched at birth? Then is the real heir coming back? And what happens to Young Lord Ling?"
The news Sun Wenhao had just let slip was too explosive. The onlookers erupted in chatter. Looks ranged from sympathy to shock to poorly concealed schadenfreude.
Ling Yun was not everybody's favourite. Not everyone who liked him liked him genuinely.
In this moment, Ling Yun felt, very keenly, the advantages of power and status.
"Beat him. Beat him hard. I'll cover whatever happens." Seeing Ling Yun almost become the public enemy, Sun Wenhao finally felt some satisfaction. He clutched his bruised and swollen eye socket and waved violently at the lackeys. He would not swallow this humiliation today.
"Hold on — let me make a call." Ling Yun looked at the approaching lackeys, sighed deeply, and pulled out his phone. He pressed a number he knew by heart.
"Go ahead and call. Let's see who comes to save you today." Sun Wenhao was utterly confident.
"Who dares lay a hand on my Ling Yun?"
The voice that came through the phone stopped Sun Wenhao's triumphant laughter dead in his throat. He stood there with his bruised eye socket, face going crimson as he choked on his own breath.
That voice — wasn't that the most untouchable person in the Jiang family?
The entire bar went dead silent. Everyone stared at Ling Yun in shock.
