The dining room at Dragon Crest Manor was, as always, a picture of formal grandeur. A massive, polished mahogany table, gleaming under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, stretched across the room. Silverware clinked softly against fine porcelain, and the aroma of expertly prepared food filled the air. To an outsider, it might have seemed like a scene of quiet, dignified family life. But to Liang Chen, it felt more like a stage, and every dinner, a performance.
Tonight felt particularly heavy. Liang Chen sat upright, his posture impeccable, his expression carefully neutral. He picked at his food, a delicious dish of braised abalone, but his mind was far from the taste. His thoughts were a swirling vortex of Horizon Tech's escalating security crisis, the tireless dance of online arguments with CipherTruth, and the constant, nagging suspicion that someone within his own ranks was working against him. Every corporate decision, every personal interaction, felt like a high-stakes gamble.
Across the table, his grandfather, Liang Zhong, was observing him with a gaze that, despite its age, was still incredibly sharp and penetrating. Liang Zhong was the patriarch, the man who had built Horizon Tech from the ground up, a titan whose will was absolute. He coughed softly, a sound that, in this quiet room, commanded immediate attention.
"Liang Chen," his grandfather began, his voice calm, almost casual, yet holding an undeniable edge of authority. "Your birthday approaches, does it not? Twenty-five, a significant age."
Liang Chen's fork paused midway to his plate. He knew where this was going. He'd felt this conversation looming like a storm cloud on the horizon. "Yes, Grandfather," he replied, keeping his voice even, though a cold knot began to tighten in his stomach. "It's next month."
Liang Zhong took a slow sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving Liang Chen's face. "And with twenty-five, comes responsibility. And opportunity. The matter of your position. The company needs strong leadership, a stable future." He paused, letting the words hang in the air, weighted with unspoken expectations. "And of course, the condition I set. The marriage. To secure your role, and that additional twenty percent."
The words, though gentle, landed like heavy blows. The condition.The marriage.The twenty percent. It wasn't just about becoming president; it was about solidifying his control, gaining that crucial 20% share that would truly make him untouchable, truly secure Horizon Tech's future under his vision. Without it, he'd still be fighting a losing battle against his ambitious cousins, against the endless internal power struggles that sapped his energy and distracted him from truly leading the company.
Liang Chen felt an immense, almost suffocating pressure. It wasn't just his grandfather's words; it was the silent tension radiating from the others at the table. He could feel the eyes on him, sharp and hungry.
His mother, Wang Xiu, sat a few seats down, perfectly composed, her gaze already alight with a calculating gleam. He knew, with a certainty that made his shoulders slump internally, that this conversation was her cue. She would now intensify her efforts a hundredfold. She would already be shifting through , mentally of society's most eligible daughters, envisioning grand, strategic alliances, planning elaborate dinners and introductions. For Wang Xiu, this wasn't about love or happiness; it was about power, prestige, and securing her son's (and by extension, her own) position at the very peak of society. He could almost hear the gears turning in her mind, the plans already being drawn up to find him the "perfect" match, someone who would bring more political leverage than warmth. The thought of it filled him with a deep, weary resignation.
Then there were his cousins. Liang Zixin, seated closer to him, was pretending to be engrossed in his food, but Liang Chen felt his cousin's sharp, sidelong glances. Zixin, a director in a Horizon Tech subsidiary, was always looking for an angle, always hoping for Liang Chen to stumble. He craved the presidential seat, and any sign of weakness, any failure to meet the grandfather's condition, would be seized upon like a ravenous wolf. The air around Zixin practically hummed with suppressed anticipation, a hunger for Liang Chen to fail.
And Liang Zhe, though currently abroad, felt like a phantom presence at the table. Liang Chen knew that Zhe, known as the "most evil" of the cousins, was undoubtedly keeping tabs on every development, every whisper from Dragon Crest Manor. Zhe was cunning, ruthless, and capable of anything to achieve his goals. He wouldn't just watch; he would be actively strategizing, pulling strings from a distance, perhaps even hoping this marriage condition would somehow backfire on Liang Chen. The thought of Zhe's unseen manipulations was a constant, chilling undercurrent to Liang Chen's life.
Liang Chen managed a slight, polite nod. "I understand, Grandfather. I will ensure it is handled." The words felt hollow, a promise he wasn't sure how to keep. How could he, Liang Chen, find a wife – a real wife, not just a pawn in a corporate game – when his life was already consumed by battles and threats? The idea of adding a forced, loveless marriage to his already unbearable burdens felt like a cruel joke.
He swallowed, feeling a dryness in his throat. He looked around the table, seeing the expectant faces, the calculating eyes. There was no escape. This wasn't just a suggestion; it was an order, a decree. And the consequences of failure were immense – not just losing the presidency, but potentially seeing Horizon Tech, his life's work, fall into less capable, more ambitious hands.
A wave of profound isolation washed over him. Who could he talk to about this? His trusted secretary, Wu Tianyu, was brilliant at managing his schedule and corporate affairs, but this was too personal, too deeply entangled with family. Xu Zemin, his loyal bodyguard, was there for physical protection, not emotional support. Even his friends, Zhang Ming and Kang Hao, at Moonlit Gardens, were too far removed from the complex web of his family's power dynamics to truly understand.
He felt trapped. Caught between the relentless demands of his grandfather, the manipulative schemes of his mother, and the predatory ambitions of his cousins. The marriage condition wasn't just a hoop to jump through; it was a fundamental shift, a personal sacrifice demanded for the sake of the company. And as the dinner conversation subtly moved on to less intense topics, Liang Chen remained locked in his thoughts, the weight of expectation pressing down on him, heavy and unyielding, a silent promise of a future he hadn't chosen for himself. He knew his world was about to become even more complicated, even more demanding, and dangerously exposed.