In the sleek silence of Li Corporation's executive floor, the hum of data screens filled the space.
Li Yan stood before a digital wall, hands behind his back, eyes locked on surveillance footage replaying on a loop.
In it, Feng Ju was shamelessly leaning on a car, waiting for Xiao Xiao like some cheap drama character.
"Pause," Li Yan ordered.
His assistant Zhou Wei stopped the footage just as Feng Ju reached out toward Feng Xiao Xiao. The image froze mid-frame—her expression icy, his full of fake charm.
"She let him touch her?" Li Yan's voice was flat, but the temperature in the room dropped five degrees.
"No," Zhou Wei said immediately. "She stepped away before contact. She was... very sharp with him."
Li Yan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"She didn't tolerate it?"
"No, sir. She said—" Zhou coughed discreetly, "she said if he came close again, she'd treat him like a criminal and bury him."
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Li Yan's lips.
Interesting.
He turned back to the glass wall, looking out over the glittering skyline.
In his memory, Feng Xiao Xiao had always been loud, impulsive, dramatic. But the girl he saw in the footage? Cold. Elegant. Dangerous.
"I want a full report on Feng Ju's current business ties," he said quietly.
"Yes, sir."
"And Zhou?"
"Yes?"
"If he appears near her again—handle it. Quietly. I don't care whose son he is."
Zhou Wei's eyes widened. "Understood."
Li Yan leaned back against the edge of his desk, arms crossed.
This wasn't about possessiveness. Not yet.
It was about control. Protection. And curiosity.
Because if anyone was going to get close to Feng Xiao Xiao—physically, emotionally, or otherwise—
—it would be him.