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{Chapter: 174 The afraid Qiao Siying!}
Lin Jianjun and Meng Yuelan found themselves completely overwhelmed by the sudden wave of marriage proposals and overwhelming attention directed at their son. One moment, they were standing quietly in a corner, watching the party unfold; the next, they were being bombarded by parents of eligible daughters and young ladies themselves, all expressing strong interest in forming a connection—specifically, a matrimonial one—with Lin Yuan.
Even Lin Yuan himself wasn't spared.
In fact, he was the center of the storm.
Surrounded by a sea of young, elegant, and overly enthusiastic women, he found himself literally cornered. Wherever he turned, there were bright eyes, eager voices, and hopeful expressions. Escape seemed impossible. Every step he tried to take was blocked by another smiling guest who "just wanted to say hello" or "only wanted a quick picture."
From a distance, Qiao Siying watched this scene unfold with a deep frown forming between her brows.
She had originally intended to approach Lin Yuan to question him about the piano piece he had just played—Blue and White Porcelain, the very song she had been listening to on repeat these past few days.
But seeing the crowd around him, she hesitated.
And more than that, she felt a bit... afraid.
Not afraid in the conventional sense, but more like hesitant and unwilling to deal with the mental toll. Every time she and Lin Yuan crossed paths, she always seemed to come out on the losing end—emotionally, psychologically, and even physically. She couldn't deny it: she had suffered one humiliation after another whenever they met. It had almost become a routine.
In fact, one reason why Qiao Siying wasn't as well-liked among the young elite as Yan Ruyue was that she had developed a reputation for tricking rich second-generation heirs into spending money on her, only to humiliate or mock them afterward. It was a little game she played—one she always won.
But Lin Yuan was different.
Every time she tried to pull something over him, it backfired spectacularly. No matter how cunning her plan was, she always ended up being outplayed.
And when she recalled the incident where she was "scammed" by Lin Yuan—not to mention that certain part of her that still ached slightly from that encounter—her anger toward him only deepened.
She hated him.
Or at least, that's what she told herself.
Eventually, Lin Yuan managed to escape the crowd—barely.
It was only thanks to Yu Shanshan and Gui Qingtong, who noticed his plight and helped clear a path for him. With the two girls blocking off the more persistent admirers, Lin Yuan was finally able to step away from the cluster of fawning women.
But his respite was short-lived.
No sooner had he moved than more guests approached him—this time not just women but also men, all eager to introduce themselves, exchange pleasantries, or offer a toast.
The shift in attention wasn't just because of his good looks anymore. That initial impression had evolved.
Now, people were interested in Lin Yuan for much more than his appearance.
The rumors had already started circulating throughout the venue: Lin Yuan had made a stunning thirty billion yuan profit in the stock market in just one day. For many in the room, that level of financial acumen was unheard of.
And while his piano performance had captivated them, that was just the cherry on top. What truly impressed the upper class was that he had helped the Mei family save face in front of everyone—a social feat not easily forgotten.
Combined with the fact that Lin Yuan was the heir to the prestigious Lin family, people began to see him as someone truly extraordinary: powerful, brilliant, and socially savvy.
In their eyes, he was no longer just some rich young man—they now saw him as a potential ally, business partner, or even friend.
And for Lin Yuan, this kind of attention was nothing new.
He didn't reject most of the advances. If someone smiled at him, he returned the gesture with polite elegance. If someone raised a toast, he clinked glasses with grace. He knew how to navigate this type of social environment with ease.
What did surprise him, though, was when a familiar figure approached him from the crowd—wine glass in hand, head bowed respectfully.
It was Ye Feng.
Ye Feng walked up slowly, stopping just in front of Lin Yuan.
Then, with both hands, he lifted the wine glass high and said in a sincere tone, "Young Master Lin Yuan, I have to say—your performance tonight was truly eye-opening. I never thought the piano could sound like that. I've been learning and playing piano myself for years, but I've never heard anyone play with such depth and skill."
His eyes carried a hint of awe as he continued, "I honestly admire you. Before this, I may have done some things that offended you. Maybe I was too proud, too hasty. If I made you unhappy, I sincerely apologize for that. Please allow me to offer you this toast—not just as an apology, but as a token of my respect. Let us forget the past and enjoy this evening together. What do you say?"
His posture was humble.
His words sounded heartfelt.
On Ye Feng's face was a perfect blend of remorse, sincerity, and admiration. To most of the guests watching, it appeared as if he was honestly trying to make peace.
It was the picture of a proud man swallowing his pride to show respect to someone better.
But Lin Yuan?
He saw through it instantly.
He looked at Ye Feng calmly, his expression unreadable.
To the average observer, Ye Feng's body language, tone, and behavior all seemed genuine. There was no flaw in his act—not in the way he held his glass, nor in the tone of voice he used, nor even in his expression.
But Lin Yuan wasn't just any observer.
He knew Ye Feng far too well. In fact, he probably understood Ye Feng better than Ye Feng understood himself.
Every movement, every smile, every "sincere" word—it was all a performance.
And behind that performance, Lin Yuan could sense it: the bitterness, the unwillingness, the carefully concealed jealousy.
Ye Feng wasn't here to surrender.
He was trying to survive.
Trying to find a way back into the social circle he had been edged out of.
And Lin Yuan, while outwardly composed, knew he had to be careful.
A cornered snake often bites hardest when it seems most harmless.
With Ye Feng's prideful, unruly, and unyielding nature, it was nearly impossible to believe that he would genuinely lower his head in humility like this. It simply wasn't in his character.
For a man like Ye Feng to bow down in public, especially in front of Lin Yuan and such an influential crowd, there had to be an ulterior motive. This was no simple act of reconciliation—it was a calculated move. A trap masked in the form of an apology.
There was an extremely high chance that this was all part of a scheme—a conspiracy designed to target Lin Yuan, possibly to damage his reputation, weaken his influence, or even harm him physically or socially.
Still, Ye Feng's demeanor at this moment was remarkably subdued. His posture radiated submission, even an air of inferiority, which was completely inconsistent with his usual behavior. Anyone watching from the sidelines would think Ye Feng had truly surrendered his pride.
Lin Yuan immediately understood the game at play.
If he outright rejected Ye Feng's olive branch in such a public setting, it would likely reflect poorly on him in the eyes of those watching. People love a peacemaker, and to refuse a seemingly sincere apology—especially one so visibly humble—would risk damaging his own image.
Assertiveness can be recognized easily and admired in some cases, but subtle malice or callousness is difficult to justify under the scrutiny of a crowd.
Still, Lin Yuan wasn't troubled. He welcomed the opportunity to see exactly what kind of plan Ye Feng had cooked up. Accepting the apology on the surface would buy him time—to observe, analyze, and prepare the perfect counterattack.
That said, Lin Yuan wasn't going to make it easy for Ye Feng.
If Ye Feng wanted to act like he was lowering his head, then Lin Yuan would make sure he truly bent down—if only metaphorically—for a little longer.
So, Lin Yuan remained motionless.
He neither accepted nor rejected the gesture.
Instead, he simply stood there, calm and composed, staring silently at Ye Feng without any change in expression.
Seconds passed.
But in such an awkward moment, they felt like minutes.
Ye Feng had bowed his head for about two or three seconds, waiting for Lin Yuan to respond—but there was nothing.
The silence pressed on his shoulders like a weight. He couldn't bear the embarrassment any longer. With an awkward smile spreading across his face, he looked up again, feigning humility as he said, "Young Master Lin, you have the freedom to do as you please... I'll drink this one first."
Without waiting for a reply, Ye Feng downed the glass of wine in one gulp.
Then, acting as though everything was perfectly cordial, he extended his right hand for a handshake.
This time, Lin Yuan responded. He slowly raised his hand and lightly grasped Ye Feng's in a formal handshake.
There was a reason for that.
Lin Yuan knew exactly what Ye Feng was up to.
To the onlookers, Ye Feng's wide smile seemed genuine—full of joy and relief, as though he were overjoyed to have resolved the feud with Lin Yuan. It gave the impression that the two had finally reconciled.
But Lin Yuan could see right through it.
That smile on Ye Feng's face was a mask. It was a picture of happiness, but behind it hid calculation, deceit, and bitterness.
As Lin Yuan released the handshake, he subtly brought his fingers to the base of his wine glass, raising it in a toast.
But instead of drinking, he brought the glass close enough to inhale—discreetly sniffing the faint trace of scent left on his hand after shaking with Ye Feng.
Sure enough, it was there.
A barely detectable fragrance—a scent so light and so faint that anyone who hadn't been specifically looking for it would have missed it entirely.
But Lin Yuan recognized it instantly.
He had smelled it before.
It was a rare, colorless, and odorless poison—a compound Ye Feng had used often in the original storyline.
It wasn't just a handshake.
It was an attempted poisoning.
Ye Feng, skilled in both traditional medicine and toxicology, often used his knowledge to eliminate enemies in indirect and undetectable ways. He would never try to assassinate someone outright; instead, he preferred subtle, non-lethal poisons that would leave his targets weakened, humiliated, or vulnerable—poisons that would go unnoticed in high-society banquets like this one.
Tonight was no different.
Ye Feng, under the guise of humility and reconciliation, had delivered a dose of that poison straight through the palm of Lin Yuan's hand.
This particular poison wouldn't kill.
But its effects would be severe enough to create trouble.
Within hours, the symptoms would begin: muscle weakness, fever, dizziness, slurred speech, and a loss of coordination. Enough to make Lin Yuan look drunk or incompetent. Enough to potentially ruin his public image or make him vulnerable to further plots.
But Ye Feng had made a grave mistake.
He had underestimated Lin Yuan.
Not only did Lin Yuan detect the poison immediately, but he also possessed far greater knowledge of medicine and poison than Ye Feng could ever imagine.
Ye Feng's skills may have been considered "advanced" by normal standards, but Lin Yuan's abilities were at a divine level—soaring far beyond the comprehension of most medical practitioners.
And this particular poison?
Lin Yuan had already thought of a perfect antidote within seconds.
Even though he saw through everything, Lin Yuan didn't let even a flicker of suspicion show on his face. Instead, he played along, smiling as if he appreciated Ye Feng's initiative to make peace.
He even reached out and gave Ye Feng a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
But hidden in that small gesture was Lin Yuan's own counterattack.
When his palm touched Ye Feng's shoulder, a fine powder—nearly invisible and completely weightless—floated down and settled across the nape of Ye Feng's neck.
It was a poison far more potent than what Ye Feng had used—refined, undetectable, and absorbed directly through the skin. A dose so carefully crafted that it wouldn't show symptoms immediately. But soon enough, it would manifest in full, and Ye Feng would come to regret underestimating him.
*****
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