Chapter 49: I Am Your Elder

Lu Ming turned toward the sound and saw that it came from the young man on the deck. Now, aside from the two bodyguards beside him, there was also a strikingly beautiful woman at his side.

The young man, with a look of arrogant swagger, strode toward Lu Ming and Yan Feihua. Yan Feihua’s expression changed dramatically when she saw the young man appear here; instinctively, she moved closer to Lu Ming.

One of the bodyguards beside the young man leaned in and whispered something to him. The young man glared at him but continued walking toward Lu Ming.

Lu Ming’s senses were razor-sharp; he heard the bodyguard’s words with crystal clarity. The man was trying to dissuade his master, warning that everyone present held significant status and it would be unwise to provoke anyone lightly. But clearly, the young man paid his bodyguard’s caution no heed.

He strode up to Lu Ming and Yan Feihua’s table, sat down with an air of entitlement, and jabbed a finger at Lu Ming’s nose. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m your elder,” Lu Ming replied lazily.

At that, the young man’s face twisted in rage. He slammed the table and barked, “You’re looking for trouble!”

“There’ve been plenty who’ve said that to me,” Lu Ming replied, raising his glass of champagne and sipping it leisurely, “but as you can see, I’m still sitting here just fine.”

“Hmph, that’s just because you haven’t met me yet. People who act this cocky in front of me usually don’t end well. Get rid of him!” The young man commanded his bodyguards.

The bodyguards looked troubled; it was clearly inappropriate to use force in such a setting. But ignoring their master’s order wasn’t an option either.

At that moment, a foreigner in formal attire approached. He was in his forties, with golden hair and a warm smile. He stopped beside Lu Ming and the young man, introducing himself with a pleasant tone.

“Gentlemen, I am Jack, the steward of Mr. John Rockefeller, host of tonight’s auction. Is there some kind of problem here?”

The young man seemed somewhat daunted by the Rockefeller name and shook his head. “Nothing at all, Mr. Jack. I was just having a chat with my friend.”

Jack smiled. “Good. Mr. John would hate for anything unpleasant to occur aboard this cruise.”

With that, he nodded to Lu Ming and the young man before taking his leave.

Once Jack was gone, the young man stared at Lu Ming for a long moment before saying, “Remember my name: I’m Feng Xifan. Ever heard of the Feng Group?”

Lu Ming frowned, saying nothing. Yan Feihua, after a moment’s thought, stared at Feng Xifan in astonishment, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

Seeing Yan Feihua’s reaction, a satisfied smile spread across Feng Xifan’s face. He leaned back in his chair, regarding them with a condescending gaze. “Now do you know who I am?”

Yan Feihua’s delicate brows knit together tightly. The Feng Group was the largest conglomerate in China. Its chairman, Feng Yingcai, was hailed as the richest man in the country, with business interests spanning multiple sectors and assets worth tens of billions. Rumor had it that Feng Yingcai had deep political connections, which explained the scale of his empire.

Back on the domestic cruise, Yan Feihua had been too panicked to see clearly who he was. Now, hearing him introduce himself, she suddenly remembered: Feng Xifan was none other than Feng Yingcai’s son.

Feng Yingcai was notorious for flaunting his lifestyle online—even his dog was decked in luxury brands. He was always surrounded by top actresses and stunning women, with a different internet celebrity by his side nearly every day. Offending someone like that, Yan Feihua could already foresee the shadow cast over her future in the entertainment industry.

If he wanted to blacklist her, it would be all too easy—one word from him, and she’d never see the light of day again.

A wave of sorrow washed over Yan Feihua’s heart. Could the wealthy truly do as they pleased? Was her fate really to be so wretched? Must she abandon her principles just to survive in this sordid world?

One question after another hammered at her soul. She shook her head and glanced at Lu Ming, who was frowning beside her, sighing inwardly. No matter how extraordinary he might be, he was no match for money. She couldn’t continue to drag him down.

“Mr. Lu, thank you for saving me. This is where we part ways.”

Yan Feihua rose to leave. Feng Xifan’s influence was unimaginable; faced with him, she saw only two choices: death or submission. She had already decided to slip away and quietly end her own life.

Because she recalled what Mr. Lu had once told her: “We persist not because we believe there will be results, but because we believe it is the right thing to do.”

At worst, she’d simply die again—what did it matter? If she stayed any longer, Feng Xifan would surely target Mr. Lu as well. She would set out alone; she couldn’t let her savior be caught up in this.

Meanwhile, a smug grin crept across Feng Xifan’s face. The arrogant man across from him fell silent at his name, and Yan Feihua looked terrified. Seeing her rise to leave, he thought: As soon as she steps out of this hall, I’ll have my men drag her to my VIP suite. I’ve brought some special toys—let’s see how defiant she is after I’ve had my way.

Just then, Lu Ming seemed to wake from a dream. He addressed Feng Xifan, “Sorry, I was thinking about the auction just now. What did you say?”

Feng Xifan’s rage flared again. Damn it, after all that, this guy wasn’t even paying attention?

“You think this is funny? Do you know what price you’ll pay for angering me?” Feng Xifan snarled.

Lu Ming looked up, about to reply, when his gaze landed on the woman standing behind Feng Xifan. His eyes lit up. “Aren’t you…?”

He tapped his forehead, as if searching his memory, and then exclaimed, “I thought you looked familiar! You’re Chen Xijun, aren’t you? I love your movies—I can’t believe I get to meet you here! Could I have your autograph?”

With that, Lu Ming stood up, eager to shake hands with Chen Xijun.

Chen Xijun was now a top star, with several wildly popular films to her name. Startled to see Lu Ming approaching her with such enthusiasm, her face filled with fear and panic.

She knew all too well what Feng Xifan was like. No woman he fancied ever escaped his clutches. She herself had been forced to submit under immense pressure—her company’s boss, though head of a major film group, couldn’t withstand Feng Xifan’s power. He had begged her not to offend Feng Xifan, or their company would be ruined.

For the sake of her career, she had no choice but to yield. Only after surrendering did she truly experience Feng Xifan’s depravity. Every night brought new torments, exposing her to the endless, shameless debauchery of the rich. Her body was bruised from head to toe, only her face remained unscathed, and even her most private places were swollen and battered.

Yet she dared not resist, hoping that one day Feng Xifan might tire of her and let her go, sparing her further humiliation.

She also knew that Feng Xifan was viciously jealous; if any man showed her the slightest attention, she would be beaten and abused. Meanwhile, he would openly flirt with women in front of her, even take other women to bed before her eyes—all of which she could only endure in silence.

Now, as Lu Ming approached her with such enthusiasm, she knew that if she so much as smiled, a savage beating awaited her that night—and this young man would be in for disaster as well.

The two bodyguards behind Feng Xifan were exceptional fighters; she had seen with her own eyes one of them snap the spine of a man who’d tried to court her, leaving him paralyzed in hospital to this day.

Instinctively, she shrank behind Feng Xifan, silently praying that this young man would realize the peril he faced and not bring ruin upon them both.

But at that moment, Feng Xifan slammed his fist on the table and roared at Lu Ming, “You little shit, you dare flirt with my woman? Kill him!”

Feng Xifan’s furious shout echoed through the hall.