Chapter 1: An Unexpected Surprise

Jiangzhou International Airport. As the flight from San Francisco to Jiangzhou touched down, all 238 passengers followed the ground crew into the secure corridor. Amidst the crowd walked a young man of about twenty-five or twenty-six, with a sharp short haircut and dressed in a well-worn denim outfit. He was speaking into an old Nokia phone.

"Is this a threat? Auntie, I never thought you could be so ruthless. The moment I landed, I got a call from the Swiss bank—every cent of four hundred million dollars frozen, and even the house in Jiangzhou sold off. Are you trying to leave me destitute?"

"And now you want me to marry some woman I've never met, supposedly the most beautiful in Jiangzhou, and I have to do it right away. If I refuse, you’ll have me beaten up. This is naked coercion… Hello? Hello?" Just as the young man was reaching the crux of his complaints, the old phone died abruptly, leaving him so exasperated he nearly smashed it.

Several passing passengers shot him odd glances, but he paid them no mind. What really troubled him was his domineering aunt, who had somehow arranged for him to marry a woman he’d never met, with no chance to refuse—a situation that was utterly absurd.

He sighed lightly. After ten years away from his homeland, this was his welcome home: a forced marriage, a so-called childhood engagement, a supposed local beauty from a prominent family. None of it concerned him. His sole purpose in returning was to find Xu Jie’er, the younger sister of his late friend Xu Tian.

Staring at the dark phone screen, Yang Changfeng managed a wry smile.

"Yang Changfeng, after all these years abroad, fighting in Afghanistan, Iraq, and the wars of African uprisings, leading Wolfpack Mercenaries through death and danger countless times, how is it that you’re thrown off by a mere woman?" he muttered to himself. Without thinking, his left hand brushed over his left eye, recalling the mercenary life overseas with mixed emotions.

A closer look would reveal his left eye was dull and lifeless—a consequence of a mission where Xu Tian, trying to save him, took several bullets. Yang survived, but shrapnel had blinded his left eye.

Leaving the airport, Yang flagged a taxi straight to downtown Jiangzhou.

His aunt had already told him where to go: the “Peninsula Western Restaurant” on the seventh floor of Huashang Tower, one of the city’s renowned establishments. On weekends, the place was packed with diners. Soft music and an elegant atmosphere exuded an air of refinement.

When the elevator doors opened, the young man in the worn denim stepped out, immediately drawing the eyes of many patrons. Surprise flickered across their faces—what was someone dressed like a laborer doing in such a high-end place?

"Look at that! Why did they let a construction worker in here?"

"Yeah! Don’t the waiters care?"

"It’s revolting. Just seeing someone like that spoils my appetite."

"Maybe he’s making a delivery."

Whispers swept through the restaurant. By the window, about ten meters away, sat a woman with delicate features, black-rimmed glasses, a crisp white blouse, and a pencil skirt. She frowned slightly, a glint of coldness in her large eyes.

"President Chen, I think that’s the man from the photo," her young assistant in business attire quietly said, handing her a picture.

"Let’s wait and see. There’s no need to greet him unless absolutely necessary," replied Chen Aijia, already feeling a deep aversion to this man who had appeared out of nowhere.

She had never expected her father to suddenly call, demanding she rush to the Peninsula Western Restaurant within half an hour to meet a man named Yang Changfeng—and even marry him at the civil affairs bureau. It was preposterous.

Chen Aijia had no intention of obeying. She’d come only to make herself clear: he should abandon any delusions.

The moment he stepped into the restaurant, she guessed his identity. She hadn’t expected him to dress so casually, which only deepened her dislike.

Yang Changfeng scanned the room and caught Chen Aijia’s gaze. Though he’d never seen her photo, the coldness in her eyes made her identity clear—this was the famed Jiangzhou beauty, Chen Aijia. But what irked him was her lack of manners, despite all his aunt’s lavish praise. He felt a twinge of disappointment.

So much for “Jiangzhou’s Number One Beauty,” a Harvard economics graduate, a powerful young woman—what nonsense. If his aunt hadn’t threatened him over Guantanamo, he would never have come to meet this woman.

Standing in the middle of the restaurant, surrounded by muttered speculation, Yang Changfeng felt increasingly annoyed. He glanced at the woman’s frosty expression and smirked mischievously. If things were bound to go wrong, he might as well make a scene.

He drew a deep breath and suddenly shouted, “Chen Aijia, come out! Your husband’s here to find you!”

“Chen Aijia, come on! Your husband’s here to take you home!”

His outburst stunned everyone. The name “Chen Aijia” was known to all in Jiangzhou. To hear it shouted so bluntly by a man dressed like a laborer was shocking.

“Is this guy insane? Calling out the name of Jiangzhou’s Number One Beauty in public?”

“He must be crazy. There’s no way she’d be here.”

“He’s definitely insane. If she fell for him, I’d eat my own plate.”

“No way would Chen Aijia, the city’s most famous beauty, choose a laborer. Impossible.”

The crowd buzzed with gossip. At her distant table, Chen Aijia’s face was as cold as a glacier. Her body trembled slightly, and her brows knit into a scowl.

Her secretary, seeing the situation, thought to herself that this reckless Yang Changfeng was in real trouble. No one dared address Chen Aijia so directly—she was known as the Ice Queen.

“President Chen, should I go—”

Before she could finish, Chen Aijia shot to her feet, her face like a storm, and strode over, glaring at Yang Changfeng.

“Shut your mouth! If you dare call my name again, I’ll throw you off the seventh floor myself!”

Her arrival left everyone in shock. No one had expected Jiangzhou’s Number One Beauty to be here, let alone confront the man herself. Hopes were dashed among the city’s men—was this her husband after all?

Yang Changfeng’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. She was indeed as breathtaking as his aunt had claimed: a flawless, delicate face, luminous skin, a fine nose above a perfect mouth, and those large, spirited eyes—even in anger, her beauty was ethereal, like a goddess untouched by the mortal world.

“What, can’t I call the name of the woman I’m about to marry? Or is it too formal—should I use something more intimate?” Yang Changfeng grinned wickedly, his roguishness a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor.

Chen Aijia’s nostrils flared with fury. “Be quiet! If you dare say another word, you’ll regret it!”

“Oh? Regret it?” Yang Changfeng’s smile widened. He had a quirk—he never backed down from threats, especially not from women. Since they already disliked each other, why not push things to the breaking point?

Seeing his silence, Chen Aijia assumed she’d cowed him and prepared to tell him off before leaving. But to her shock, he stepped forward and pulled her abruptly into his arms.