3: Chapter 3 The Tragic Young Master's Benefactor 2

A right hand with skin like white jade, distinct knuckles, and faint veins picked up the black metal-framed glasses, wiped them lightly with a lens cloth, and then placed them on the bridge of a superior nose, adding a touch of elegance.

His slightly curly black hair was parted 70/30, with one side falling naturally, partially obscuring his eyes and making him look a bit softer, while the other side was swept back, revealing a full and smooth forehead.

With sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, his pupils were deep, and under the lenses, there was still a hint of indifference. An extraordinarily handsome face, with the cold and noble air of a high-ranking family.

In a bespoke black suit, as far as the eye could see, he had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, an inverted triangle physique, and straight, long legs. Yet his shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, just barely revealing a sexy Adam's apple—both ascetic and erotic.

"It's time to go back. He was fine when I left, but he turned dark the moment I turned my back, ruining my retirement life."

He murmured to himself with a hint of irritability.

Lu Zhan in the Main World lost his parents and family early, growing up on government relief and some compensation. This shaped his current cold and indifferent personality; few things could stir his emotions.

Lu Zhan called his Second Brother, and the call was quickly answered.

"Old Third, you haven't called in a long time. You don't even miss your Second Brother. I've doted on you for nothing. Do you even know you have a Second Brother?" The tone carried his usual doting along with a bit of pique.

"Second Brother, I'm not a child anymore. Stop treating me like one. I'm calling to tell you I'm returning to Sijiu City in a couple of days. Help me say hello to Big Brother."

After some small talk, Lu Zhan hung up. When he went downstairs, the servant had already prepared the meal. Lu Zhan gave some instructions to the Butler standing nearby, and the Butler left.

Before the meal was over, the Butler returned. "Sir, everything has been arranged as you ordered. We depart today." Lu Zhan nodded and waved for the Butler to leave.

"Have you heard? The Third Master of the Lu family, who has been abroad for several years, is coming back." It was a new day, but a piece of news exploded through the upper circles of Sijiu City.

Young in age but high in seniority, with talent and looks to match, he had been a role model for the younger generation since childhood.

He created his own financial Empire, and later, because he was going abroad, he let his Second Brother, who was in business, take over, while he only kept the title of director and collected dividends from his shares.

The old man of the Lu family had favored this youngest son since childhood. It's said that when the inheritance was divided, he was given forty to fifty percent.

Furthermore, the Third Master of the Lu family has kept himself clean and ascetic for years, never dabbling in carnal desires; he is also the famous 'Flower on a High Mountain' above the altar in Sijiu City.

Although he's a bit older now, a man at thirty is in his prime. Countless men and women are still obsessed with him.

But he's never been known to favor anyone. That brat from the Lin family, for some reason, received a bit of his favor and protection, but it ended there.

Speaking of this True Young Master of the Lin family who lived adrift, one has to praise the Third Master's Wisdom Eye for being able to bring a true Dragon out of the mud.

At only 23, Lin Sicheng has truly soared to the sky.

To be blunt, the business and political worlds are almost his. He is young but ambitious, and in secret, he is known for being ruthless and vindictive. Yet on the surface, he maintains an air of elegance and cold asceticism, actually possessing two or three tenths of the Third Master's aura.

In just a few short years, he pushed the Lin family to such heights that no one in Sijiu City dares to underestimate or provoke them even slightly.

What's worth mentioning is that after Lin Sicheng took full control, he threw his parents abroad. Old Man Lin actually remained silent about it. People have many theories, but no conclusion.

"Sir, since you're back, there's no need to leave. Since you came back on your own, I won't be too hard on you. Consider it a reward for being good."

The murmur was accompanied by a low, eerie laugh.

A tall figure by the French window looked down at a photo on his phone. In the photo, Lu Zhan was in loungewear, sitting on a balcony sofa with his eyes closed, napping. His glasses were set aside.

His slightly curly black hair fell naturally, and warm sunlight bathed him. He didn't look as cold and indifferent as usual, nor as sharp and majestic. Instead, he seemed a bit more quiet and gentle, handsome like a sleeping prince.

Lin Sicheng remembered the day that photo was taken very clearly. Under the sunlight, the shadow of his outstretched right hand fell on Sir's sleeping face.

At that moment, Lin Sicheng suddenly felt that perhaps Sir wasn't so unreachable and unattainable—he was within reach.

For the first time, he wanted someone so firmly: his Sir. But Sir is normal; he wouldn't accept it. If Sir knew, he would surely avoid him like a snake or scorpion.

So the joys and sorrows of this relationship were destined to be borne by him alone.

He only asked for Sir to always be by his side, living where he could see him. It would have been fine if they stayed like that, but even this meager hope was unilaterally stripped away by Sir.

Sir let him know he was special to him. He brought him out of the mud, brought him into the family, doted on him, protected him, and backed him up.

Now, he realized he might be no different from a stray cat or dog a master picks up out of pity. Picked up on a whim, discarded on a whim, and ignored from then on.

For years, Lin Sicheng's heart has been a tangle of love and hate. The sweet past is filled with warmth, while the painful present is accompanied by the coldness of abandonment.

They tear at him back and forth, so he knows he has changed. He has become extremely cold-hearted, paranoid, and crazy—ruthless and unscrupulous just to become stronger.

If some things are destined to never come to you, then use greater strength to take them by force, allowing no one to object.

Or perhaps he was simply sick, and the medicine to cure him was the Sir who had heartlessly discarded him.

"Discard." Just thinking of those two words makes his mind churn and his heart ache as if crushed. Uncontrollable emotions flood out.

His eyes were instantly filled with pain and violence, his expression dark and unreadable; he was sensitive and neurotic regarding those two words.

His slender fingers quickly pulled open a nearby drawer, took out a small white bottle, poured a few tablets into his palm, and swallowed them dry.

Lin Sicheng covered his eyes with one hand and braced himself against the table with the other. After a while, he seemed to regain his composure, returning to that cold and ascetic appearance, though a hint of imperceptible gloom remained in his eyes.