Not All Flames Are Seen

At the Zhang household, Zhang Zhenyi peeked into the living room and called out with a grin, "Dad, Luo Chen is here!"

From the kitchen came a cheerful voice. "Oh, little Luo is here? Good boy, you've grown taller again!" Zhang Zhenyi's father stepped out, still wearing an apron and holding a ladle in one hand, his smile full of genuine warmth.

Before he could say more, his wife shot him an exasperated look. "Come on, stop chattering and go serve the food, will you? Look at yourself, wearing an apron all day like a housewife!"

He blinked, startled. "I… I'm just helping out—"

Zhang Zhenyi stifled a laugh, and even Luo Chen couldn't help but glance at Aunt Zhang with a faint, amused smile.

Then, turning respectfully to her father, Luo Chen said, "Uncle Zhang, let me help you."

Zhang Zhenyi's father paused, touched by the boy's sincerity. He gave a small nod and chuckled, "Well, okay then.

In the dining area, Zhang Zhenyi's mother crossed her arms, her tone sharp with annoyance. "Zhenyi, I'm talking to you! You need to set your standards higher."

She shot a quick glance at her husband, who was busy fussing over the side dishes with Luo Chen.

"Look at your dad," she continued, voice laced with disdain. "Such a pushover. Just look at the kind of life he's living—tied to the kitchen, no ambition. And now this Luo Chen? He runs to the stove the moment he steps in. I'm really starting to worry he's just like your father!"

Zhenyi kept her eyes down, saying nothing. A faint flush crept up her cheeks, but she stayed quiet—accustomed to her mother's barbed words.

But then—knock knock.

The sudden sound echoed through the apartment.

Zhenyi froze, her brow furrowing slightly. Standing from the couch, she tilted her head toward the door, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who… at this time?"

She moved toward the entrance, opening the door cautiously.

Standing there was a young man, energetic and flashy, wearing a branded jacket and a smug grin. His sudden presence was like a spark of chaos in the calm domestic air.

"Zhenyi!" he beamed. "You're home! Why didn't you answer my calls?"

He waved his phone in her face. "I already booked us movie tickets! Let's go, I've been waiting outside forever."

Zhenyi's eyes widened in panic. She stepped out quickly and closed the door behind her, her voice low but urgent. "Why are you here?"

Something about her posture was tense—too stiff to be casual.

"That… something came up today, so I couldn't go," she explained quickly, almost in a whisper.

Before Zhang Zhenyi could stop her, her mother's voice rang out behind her—sharp and enthusiastic.

"Hey, hold on! Isn't that Young Master Han?" she called loudly, stepping toward the door with a beaming smile. "Why are you standing outside? Hurry up and come in!"

Zhang Zhenyi stiffened and whispered quickly, "Mom… Luo Chen is still here."

Her mother waved it off with a dismissive glance. "So what?" she muttered under her breath, before turning back to Han with a gleam in her eyes.

Han stepped in confidently, holding out a sleek bottle wrapped in gold-trimmed packaging. "Auntie, this is a French perfume my friend brought back recently. Please give it a try. If it's not to your liking, I'll ask someone to send another one over tomorrow."

Zhang Zhenyi's mother's face lit up as she took the bottle and covered her mouth with exaggerated delight. "Oh my, yes, yes—if it's from you, Auntie will definitely like it!" she giggled shamelessly, eyes gleaming with greed.

Han leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he smirked to himself. "What a greedy woman…"

But just then, his gaze landed on the figure standing quietly inside the dining room.

Luo Chen.

Han's smile froze. Luo Chen stood with his back to the light, but even in the warm apartment glow, his presence was like a shadow cutting through the room. His eyes were fixed on Han—dark, cold, emotionless… but so intense that Han instinctively took half a step back.

The oppressive aura prickled at Han's skin like thorns. His breath caught in his throat.

He tried to play it off, turning to Zhenyi's mother with a shaky smile. "And this is…?"

He leaned slightly toward her and whispered, "What a strong aura…"

Zhang Zhenyi's mother turned and glanced at Luo Chen with disinterest. "Oh, he's one of Zhenyi's classmates from college. His father and my useless husband were classmates too. His family's from the countryside, and now he's trying to come to Shanghai to find work."

Han visibly relaxed, letting out a low, almost mocking breath. "Oh… so he's just a jobless bumpkin."

He smirked again, arrogance returning to his face—but he didn't dare meet Luo Chen's eyes this time.

Han extended his hand with a smile that barely masked his smugness. "Hello," he said to Luo Chen.

But Luo Chen didn't even look at it.

Instead, his gaze drifted toward the dining table where Uncle Zhang was arranging the last few dishes. With quiet poise, Luo Chen walked over and said, "Uncle Zhang, let me help you."

Uncle Zhang looked up and smiled kindly. "Thank you, Little Luo. The food's ready, so go ahead and sit down and eat."

Han stood frozen with his hand still awkwardly in the air. Being ignored so blatantly in front of everyone made his smile twitch. He lowered his hand slowly, his eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, "Damn it… this bastard dares to make me lose face? Courting death."

Zhang Zhenyi, sensing the tension in the room, quickly raised her voice. "Luo Chen! He's talking to you!"

Han put his smirk back on, arms crossed arrogantly. "If you plan to develop yourself in Shanghai," he said, puffing up, "we should get to know each other better. Shanghai's a big place, but I have a voice here. If you ever run into trouble, I can lend a hand."

Luo Chen turned his head slightly, his eyes as calm as still water. "Well," he said indifferently, "I'll keep your word."

Han's smirk faltered slightly.

But he wasn't done yet.

He turned to Zhang Zhenyi and said with a knowing look, "By the way, Zhenyi, I heard your classmate is looking for a job. Why not send him to my company? Business is booming lately—we're short on people. I'm sure I can find something for him."

Zhenyi hesitated, caught off guard. "I… I'm not sure…"

Aunt Zhang jumped in before she could say more. "Han is truly the best," she said enthusiastically. "He started his own company while still so young, teaches at a prestigious school, and always takes care of our Zhenyi. And you—" she turned to Luo Chen with a look of thinly veiled contempt, "you should really learn from him, you know?"

Luo Chen responded with a faint, cold grin.

Aunt Zhang clapped her hands. "Come on! Let's eat!"

Just then, Luo Chen slowly pulled his right hand from his pocket. A faint pulse of spiritual energy—subtle, invisible to ordinary people—gathered in his palm.

Zhenyi, watching him closely, noticed the change in atmosphere. "Luo Chen?" she asked carefully.

Han, already halfway to his seat, called from behind with a mocking tone, "Where are you going? Can't handle the embarrassment? Running away already?"

Then he snorted and whispered under his breath, "Trash like you… can't even hold onto his pride. Fast runner, though."

As Han picked up his chopsticks and leaned forward to grab a piece of meat, a sudden sizzle cut through the air.

Smoke began to rise—from the back of his collar.