The early‑spring sun should’ve felt warm and full of life, but in Seren City it still carried that sharp, lingering chill.
Inside the Kingsley family’s home—
A sudden crash.
A teacup hit the floor and shattered, the sound slicing through the room like a bolt of lightning. The long‑simmering tension in the living room instantly blew up.
“You Kingsleys really don’t know what’s good for you!”
The woman barking like she owned the place was none other than Minerva Thornton, the second madam of the powerful Montgomery family from the Imperial City—a woman long used to throwing her weight around.
“I rushed here all the way from the Imperial City and even prepared the engagement gifts myself. And now you say you’re backing out? Are you Kingsleys trying to rebel or what?”
She lifted her chin, her tone dripping with contempt.
“Everyone in Seren City knows Nora Kingsley is a sickly girl. My son taking interest in her is a blessing for your family. Who knows how long a frail thing like her can live, yet she still dares to act all high and mighty?”
“Climbers pretending to be pure—disgusting.”
Pretending?
It was clearly the Montgomery family barging in and acting like they were above everyone.
Now they wanted to flip the script?
Nora Kingsley raised an eyebrow, her phoenix‑shaped eyes bright and icy. Just that slight tilt of her head carried a sharp, sultry edge.
“So the Montgomery family sees themselves as heaven now?”
Before anyone could react, she stood up, grabbed the celadon teacup, and hurled its contents straight at Minerva Thornton. Warm tea splashed all over the woman’s expensive clothes.
Nora’s voice came out cold and razor‑thin, squeezed between her teeth.
“Get out.”
“Ah—!”
“Nora!”
"You really wanna tear things up with the Montgomery family?" Minerva Thornton slammed the table, teeth clenched, shaking the tea off her coat like some cornered wildcat ready to scratch. Her face, already sharp‑edged by nature, looked even harsher now.
Beside her sat a young man in a wheelchair—Sebastian Montgomery. His looks were decent, but that arrogance in his eyes made his whole presence feel poisonous. And the way he stared at Nora Kingsley… that gaze was downright greasy, like he was already imagining taking a bite out of her.
In the Imperial City, Sebastian was known for being a shameless playboy. To him, women were just toys—pretty ones simply meant more fun. The moment he saw Nora, he decided she was his next target.
"Stop wasting time with them. The Kingsley family from Seren City thinks they can talk big with us?" he snapped, voice dripping with disdain. "Backing out now? Seriously? We agreed to this over the phone before New Year."
Then his tone turned downright nasty. "Don’t piss me off. Worst case, I’ll drag Nora back to the Imperial City myself. I’d love to see what your Kingsley family can do about it."
The arrogance in his voice made the whole room feel like it was about to explode.
Howard Kingsley’s face darkened instantly. "As long as I’m here, no one touches my daughter!"
"You—" Sebastian’s patience snapped. He jerked his chin at his men. "Go get her."
He’d dealt with stubborn types before. Most of them were only tough until they got beaten down.
The Montgomery bodyguards moved in, clearly ready to take Nora by force.
Howard shot up like someone had lit a fire under him, pulling Nora behind him. He threw a punch at the nearest bodyguard, the blow so fierce it sent the side table flying.
Cups shattered, wood crashed, and chaos burst across the room in an instant.
"Dad—!" Nora Kingsley tried to rush in, but one person against four was pointless. She barely got two steps before someone shoved her aside. She stumbled hard onto the couch, breath catching in her throat.
Seeing his daughter tossed around like that, Howard Kingsley’s fury snapped. His punches came down fast and merciless, every swing packed with rage.
The whole living room was a mess of shouts and heavy footsteps when a group of men in matching bodyguard gear suddenly charged in through the still‑open door.
In just a few seconds, the Montgomery family’s men were pinned down.
The abrupt intrusion stunned everyone.
"You people are insane! How dare you lay a hand on us?!" Minerva Thornton was livid, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. Being embarrassed over and over again was something she clearly couldn’t swallow.
She glared at the men who’d rushed in, ready to scream again—
but the moment she turned her head, she froze completely.
Why… why is he here?
At the entrance of the Kingsley home stood several people.
And among them, one figure stole all the attention instantly.
He wore a long black fitted coat over a dark navy sweater, tall and straight as if sculpted from shadow and winter air. After stopping, he calmly brushed a bit of dust from his cuff with one hand, then lifted his gaze without the slightest rush.
His black hair was slightly tousled, but it only made the sharp lines of his features even more striking. A few loose strands hovered near his eyes, those pitch‑black pupils slicing over like an eagle’s glare—cold enough to make bones ache.
His whole presence was icy, unapproachable, the kind of quiet authority that came from standing at the top for far too long.
In his left hand was a cane the color of polished peachwood. A jade ring rested on his thumb, its green luster understated yet impossibly valuable.
Everything on him, from head to toe, was luxury without a single misstep.
This was—
Hector Ashford.
The seventh master of the Ashford family.
Hector Ashford, known also as Peijiu.