Chapter 17: A Sudden Upheaval at the Banquet, Love Deepens

The black sedan sent by the Feng family came to a steady stop in front of the villa. Mao Yu, holding Mao Ling’s hand, stepped out and headed straight toward the banquet hall.

The crystal chandeliers sparkled brilliantly, mingling with the fragrance of fine clothes and the subtle glances exchanged over clinking glasses—a perfect display of high society.

Yet Mao Yu felt no attraction to this scene; instead, he sensed a pervasive air of hypocrisy hanging thickly in the room.

As soon as he entered the hall, probing gazes swept over him like searchlights.

A cold smirk curled at the corner of Mao Yu’s lips. The Feng family certainly knew how to make an impression—such a spectacle that one might mistake it for a zoo.

“Brother, so many people are staring at us,” Mao Ling tugged gently at Mao Yu’s sleeve and whispered.

Mao Yu patted her hand reassuringly. “What’s there to fear? I’ve got you covered.”

“Ha, isn’t this Young Master Mao? What an honor to have you here,” came a sarcastic voice. The butler Lin appeared out of nowhere, wearing a hypocritical smile.

“Butler Lin, long time no see,” Mao Yu replied with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Clearing his throat loudly, as if addressing the surrounding guests, Lin said, “Young Master Mao, although you once helped Miss, the Feng family’s affairs are best left to us. After all, you’re an outsider. If you cause any trouble again, the Feng family cannot bear the consequences.”

Murmurs rose around them like a swarm of buzzing flies, grating on Mao Yu’s nerves.

Just as he prepared to retort, Feng Yao approached.

“Butler Lin, Young Master Mao is my guest. Show some respect,” Feng Yao’s voice was icy, carrying an unyielding authority.

Lin’s face stiffened, but he stubbornly replied, “Miss, I only worry about your safety—”

“My safety is none of your concern,” Feng Yao cut him off decisively. She subtly stepped closer to Mao Yu.

“But—Miss—” Lin tried to protest but was silenced by a sharp glance from Feng Yao.

He reluctantly fell silent, though a glint of malice flickered in his eyes.

The atmosphere in the hall stiffened instantly, tension crackling like drawn swords.

At that moment, the lights flickered once, then—

“Ah!” A piercing scream shattered the silence.

“What’s happening?”

The crowd stirred. Someone shouted, “The power’s out!”

In the chaos, a soft hand gently grasped Mao Yu’s. The hall plunged into darkness, with screams and curses rising in a cacophony—a grand-scale “rave” of chaos.

Mao Yu felt the delicate touch holding his hand; no need to guess—it was Feng Yao.

Well, this girl, usually aloof and regal, was surprisingly clingy now.

Mao Yu inwardly pleased himself but maintained a calm facade, squeezing her hand gently. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

In the darkness, Feng Yao’s cheeks flushed faintly. She could feel the warmth of Mao Yu’s palm and the reassuring strength it conveyed.

Leaning closer, she whispered, “I trust you.”

Those four simple words struck deeper than any sweet nothings, stirring Mao Yu’s heart profoundly.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass pierced the brief stillness.

Chaos erupted from the other side of the hall.

“What’s going on?” someone cried.

“It’s Zhang Biao and Wang Hu’s men!” came a terrified voice from the crowd.

“They’re charging in!”

Zhang Biao and Wang Hu? Mao Yu’s eyes sharpened. It seemed these two were determined to make trouble.

Just as he readied himself, Feng Yao trembled visibly, clearly frightened.

He swiftly shielded her, whispering, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

Amid the turmoil, several dark figures advanced swiftly, their gleaming knives glinting menacingly in the dark.

“Protect Miss!” Butler Lin’s voice trembled with unease but was soon drowned out by the uproar.

“Hmph, futile as a mantis trying to stop a chariot,” sneered Zhang Biao.

He approached Feng Yao with a cruel grin. “Little girl, come with us obediently, or you’ll suffer.”

“Try and touch her, and you’ll have to get past me first!” Mao Yu’s eyes turned icy, a formidable wave of supernatural energy radiating from him.

He stepped forward suddenly, an invisible force blasting several black-clad men aside.

“Well, well, kid, you’ve got some skills,” taunted Wang Hu, brandishing a dagger that shimmered coldly, his eyes filled with murderous intent. “But do you really think you can stop us?”

“Heh,” Mao Yu sneered, “the outcome’s still uncertain.” Clenching his fist, a mighty power surged through him.

The air seemed to freeze; a fierce battle was about to erupt.

“You…” Wang Hu started, but a crushing pressure overwhelmed him.

His expression shifted to shock. “You…”

In the darkness, Mao Yu’s supernatural power flashed like lightning across the night sky, dazzling and fierce.

His figure moved like a ghost, weaving through enemies, each strike thunderous and overwhelming.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!” Several muffled thuds sounded as black-clad men fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

“What the hell? Who is this kid? So fierce?” Zhang Biao’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He had thought Mao Yu was just a rash youth with some talent but had not expected such tenacity.

“Stop standing there! Attack together!” Wang Hu’s face darkened. He knew they couldn’t afford to fail in capturing Feng Yao tonight.

A group of black-clad men surged forward once again, blades flashing, charged with murderous intent.

Mao Yu sneered, “Is that all? I’m just getting started!” His form blurred like a tiger descending the mountain, plunging into the enemy ranks.

“Boom!” A tremendous explosion of energy from Mao Yu’s power sent foes flying.

He grabbed Feng Yao, pulling her behind him protectively.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Feng Yao nestled close, feeling the warmth and strength emanating from him.

Her eyes brimmed with admiration, her heart completely captivated.

Suddenly, Feng Yao’s foot slipped. A startled cry escaped her lips as she nearly fell.

Quick as lightning, Mao Yu caught her in his arms.

Their bodies pressed tightly together; Feng Yao’s breath quickened, her chest rising and falling gently. A faint fragrance wafted into Mao Yu’s nose.

He gazed into her eyes, filled with love and—barely perceptible—anxiety.

Unable to resist, he leaned in, nearly brushing his lips against hers.

“Cough, cough…” A light cough shattered the intimate moment.

Butler Lin appeared behind them, face ashen.

“Miss, please compose yourself.”

Feng Yao hurriedly pushed Mao Yu away, a blush spreading over her cheeks.

Mao Yu awkwardly rubbed his nose, silently scolding the old butler for lacking subtlety.

“Kid, don’t get cocky!” Zhang Biao and Wang Hu seized the opportunity to charge, weapons aimed directly at Mao Yu.

“Today, you’re finished!”

Mao Yu’s eyes sharpened. Shielding Feng Yao, he said coldly, “Try touching her, and you’ll have to answer to my sword first!” A gleaming longsword suddenly appeared in his hand, radiating chilling sword energy that sent shivers down the spine.

“You… you actually…” Wang Hu stared in horror at the sword, his face turning ashen.

“This can’t be!” Zhang Biao was dumbfounded. Who exactly was this young man?

Mao Yu sneered, “Afraid now? Too late.” Raising the sword, he pointed it at them. “Prepare to die!”

Suddenly, the hall lights flickered back on.

“Stop!” A commanding voice echoed through the hall.

With the lights fully restored, everyone saw the speaker clearly—Feng Yao’s father, Feng Tianxiang, the head of the Feng family.

His expression was grave as his gaze swept the hall before settling on Mao Yu.

“What is going on here?”

Zhang Biao and Wang Hu quickly knelt, pleading tearfully, “Family head, this guy…this guy…”

“Family head, Zhang Biao and Wang Hu led the attack on Miss!” Butler Lin hurriedly interjected, embellishing the story and portraying Mao Yu as a scoundrel taking advantage of the chaos.

Feng Tianxiang frowned deeply, scrutinizing Mao Yu.

Mao Yu let out a cold laugh, uninterested in explaining, and tossed the sword onto the ground.

“Family head Feng, I trust you can discern right from wrong.”

Feng Tianxiang’s expression shifted slightly as he recognized the sword—it was the ancestral sword of the Feng family. How could this young man possess it?

Feng Yao stepped to her father’s side, whispering, “Dad, it was Young Master Mao who saved me.”

Feng Tianxiang glanced at his daughter, then at Mao Yu, his mind made up.

He took a deep breath and said solemnly, “Guards, detain Zhang Biao and Wang Hu.”

The two men’s faces turned pale; they tried to protest but were dragged away by the Feng family guards.

Feng Tianxiang approached Mao Yu and bowed deeply.

“Young Master Mao, thank you for saving my daughter.”

Mao Yu smiled faintly. “It was nothing. No need for thanks.”

The banquet resumed, but the atmosphere had changed completely.

The gazes cast at Mao Yu no longer bore disdain but respect.

Feng Yao stood by his side, her eyes shining with adoration.

Mao Yu knew that though tonight’s crisis had passed, greater challenges awaited.

Zhang Biao and Wang Hu would not give up easily, and he had yet to earn the full trust of the Feng family.

Looking at Feng Yao, he vowed silently: Feng Yao, I will protect you, no matter the cost.

Suddenly, a waiter approached Mao Yu and handed him a note.

“Young Master Mao, someone asked me to give this to you.”

Mao Yu took the note, opened it, and his expression darkened instantly.

“Heh, you want to play games? I’m ready to see it through,” he said, crumpling the note with a cold glint in his eyes.

Feng Yao noticed his change and asked with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Mao Yu looked at her and smiled coldly. “Nothing—just some petty troublemakers.”

Clenching his fist, his resolve was firm.

“Tomorrow, I’ll make sure they learn what happens when they cross me.”

In the shadows of the banquet hall’s corner, a figure in black silently observed Mao Yu before disappearing swiftly into the night…