Chapter 59: Breaking the Rules

Everyone in the hall burst into laughter at Feng Xifan’s actions. The dagger was indeed extraordinary, but even when it had been wielded by Adolf, a master of the innate level, it hadn’t managed to harm Lu Ming in the slightest. And Feng Xifan, a pampered young man with no real strength, what use could he possibly make of it? It was as if a three-year-old child were handed a red-hot blade—however powerful the weapon, it would hardly mean the child could defeat an adult. On the contrary, the child would most likely end up hurting himself.

Lu Ming gazed at Feng Xifan, who now clutched the weapon, his face expressionless. On Feng Xifan's face flickered a complex array of emotions—ruthlessness, hesitation, and more. In the end, it seemed he could not summon the necessary courage.

With a clatter, the dagger fell to the floor. Feng Xifan, his face ashen, spoke: “Lu, I’ll remember you.”

With that, he strode toward the gaping hole in the cabin wall. His action surprised everyone present. Had he chosen the second option, at least his life would have been spared. Jumping into the sea like this—how was it any different from suicide? After all, they were on the open ocean, far from land, and survival was near impossible.

Lu Ming looked at Feng Xifan in surprise, his brows furrowing. Was Feng Xifan gambling with his life, unwilling to become a cripple, staking everything on one final chance?

Feng Xifan reached the broken opening, cast one last venomous look at the crowd, and, without looking back, leaped into the sea.

“A bit of courage after all,” Lu Ming remarked with a smile.

He then turned to Feng Xifan’s two bodyguards, clapping them on the shoulder. “You two did well. Following a fool like that must have been trying, but don’t lose heart—I'm sure there are many gentlemen here who would be glad to have you.”

No sooner had Lu Ming finished than a deep voice rang out, laughter lacing the words: “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind, how about joining me?”

The two men glanced in the direction of the voice, recognizing Huo Xiangying as the speaker. Joy lit their faces. Now, with no hope of returning to the mainland—the son of China’s richest man had leaped to his death under their protection—Feng Yingtai would never forgive them. The prospect was laughable. Huo Xiangying, however, was a powerful figure in Hong Kong and Taiwan, no less influential than Feng Yingtai. Joining him was, by all measures, the best outcome.

They cast Lu Ming a grateful look—for this opportunity was his doing, a second chance for which they owed him a debt of rebirth. Both bowed low, ninety degrees, and said in unison, “Thank you, Mr. Lu, for sparing our lives. Should you ever need us, we will serve unto death.”

Lu Ming smiled. “This is a chance you earned by your own merit. There's no need to thank me. Go on.”

The two glanced at Lu Ming once more in gratitude before heading toward Huo Xiangying.

At that moment, Lu Ming yawned. “I’m so sleepy. Time for a good rest.”

John, ever attentive, stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your rooms to rest. By noon tomorrow, I assure you the banquet hall will be clean and orderly once more.”

People nodded respectfully to Lu Ming and, following the attendants, retired to their rooms.

Yet as Lu Ming prepared to leave, he found himself in something of a quandary. At either side stood Yan Feihua and Chen Xijun, both with nowhere to go. Lu Ming felt at a loss—taking them both to his room seemed improper, though he could not deny the temptation.

At that moment, John offered a solution. “Mr. Lu, we have prepared the cruise’s only top-tier suite for you. It can easily accommodate seven or eight people. Furthermore, with the damage to the cabins, we have no extra rooms for the two ladies.”

Lu Ming chuckled inwardly. “That old fox really knows how to handle people.”

He turned to Yan Feihua and Chen Xijun. “Well, come with me for the night. It may not be comfortable, but we’ll make do.”

Yan Feihua blushed and said nothing, while Chen Xijun’s lips curled in the faintest, nearly imperceptible smile.

“Please, this way,” John said, personally leading the trio to the suite. Yan Feihua and Chen Xijun followed silently behind.

A moment later, they reached the suite’s door. John produced a crystal key card, opened the door, then handed the card to Lu Ming. “May you have a pleasant night,” he said, bowing discreetly before departing.

Lu Ming ushered the two women into the suite. As soon as they entered, all three were stunned by the lavish amenities: sapphire chandeliers, a wave-shaped mini pool, gym equipment, a Tyrannosaurus gaming pod, a naked-eye 3D projection TV, bionic massage chairs, and so much more.

“Damn, it’s good to be rich,” Lu Ming exclaimed from the heart.

Once, he too had amassed a considerable fortune—but most of that time had been spent in his island base, living under harsh conditions. After the Dragon War, wracked with guilt, he had distributed all his wealth to his subordinates and returned to West Capital penniless, never getting the chance to enjoy such luxury.

“It’s about time I had some enjoyment,” he mused, settling into the bionic massage chair, turning on the 3D projector, and stretching out in comfort. He called to Yan Feihua and Chen Xijun, “Ladies, please make yourselves at home.”

Above, beams of light converged, forming a three-dimensional screen. Lu Ming picked a movie at random and pressed play. The characters on the screen appeared as real as life, performing scenes all around him, as though he himself were part of the film, able to step in at any moment.

Behind him, Yan Feihua and Chen Xijun stood silently, their expressions inscrutable. They had met Lu Ming only by chance that night, but his near-miraculous abilities had left a profound and indelible impression, shaking them to the core.

They did not know what the names Dragon of the Deep, Shadow, or Riptide Whale truly signified, but they could sense how extraordinary Lu Ming was. A single man annihilating nearly a thousand pirates, standing unscathed before cannon fire, and sinking a warship with one punch—such feats surpassed even the wildest tales of supermen.

And now, the man who had held their lives in his hands—Feng Xifan, son of China’s richest man—had been forced by Lu Ming to leap into the sea, utterly defeated.

Lu Ming had completely conquered their hearts. The two women gazed in a daze at him, each lost in her own thoughts as he watched the screen with intense concentration.

After a long while, Chen Xijun let out a wry laugh and said to Yan Feihua, “Forgive me, I’m very tired. I’ll go to sleep first.”

She made her way to the inner bedroom. Though she longed to throw herself into Lu Ming’s arms, the memory of the humiliation and abuse she had suffered at Feng Xifan’s hands held her back. She felt unworthy, refusing to indulge in such wishful thinking.

Watching her leave, Yan Feihua bit her lip, deep in thought. Until this night, she had never imagined she could fall so deeply for a man in just a few hours. But now she finally understood the meaning of love at first sight.

Yet she knew in her heart that she and Mr. Lu were not meant for the same path. He was a god among men; she was but an ordinary woman, struggling for her dreams, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He belonged in the heavens; she belonged to the earth. A man like Lu Ming would never look twice at someone so ordinary.

Shaking her head, Yan Feihua walked toward the second bedroom.

As the doors to the two bedrooms closed, Lu Ming, still watching the film, could not help but sigh inwardly.

“Damn it, why aren’t things going according to script? In the movies, when the hero saves the damsel, the beauty always falls into his arms. Why are you both going off to sleep separately?”

Meanwhile, on the frigid sea, a black yacht glided like a phantom across the dark waves. Soon it slowed, lowering a rope ladder.

A moment later, a figure climbed aboard. Supported by two men, he entered the cabin.

In the light, the man was revealed to be none other than Feng Xifan. He shed his wet clothes, exposing a set of flabby, ostentatious muscles. Frowning, he addressed his companions: “Useless fools. Report to the chairman immediately—the plan has failed. Request further instructions.”

“Yes, sir,” one replied, picking up a satellite phone.

At that moment, Feng Xifan drew a deep breath. Astonishingly, his bloated, exaggerated physique began to change, becoming taut and well-proportioned. Even his face transformed, shifting and contorting until, gradually, he became a pale young man—utterly different from his previous appearance, completely unrecognizable.

A true genius never forgets the way home.