Where is my son, Ruyan?

Fei Ruyan froze.

That voice.

That cold, familiar voice.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her legs refused to move. For a moment, she couldn't even feel the floor beneath her feet. The bottle in her hand slipped and fell, crashing onto the marble floor with a sharp crack. Water spilled everywhere, soaking the polished tiles.

She slowly lifted her eyes. And there he was.

Lu Junhan stood at the center of the grand hall, tall, proud, and furious. The years had only made him more striking—his presence heavier, more powerful. And those eyes… those stormy eyes still held the same force as they had decades ago.

"Junhan…" she whispered, barely able to form the word.