Chapter 1 The Dragon Returns!

“Mayson, I’m getting outta prison today. I’m returning the curvy assassin queen from Cell 8 to you. Her massage skills were really something.” Marevia, Dragon-Suppressing Prison. Stefan Bryant spoke to an old man idly puffing on a long-stemmed pipe, a hint of reluctance in his tone. Three years ago, he went to prison to take the charges for his girlfriend, Margery Easterlin. He remembered when he first arrived, Mayson Moss insisted he had some “Solar Apex Vitals Body” and wanted to take him as a disciple. Over these three years, Stefan learned many skills from Mayson. Opening martial meridians, cultivating martial arts; mastering the nine needles, studying medicine… and more. “What’s this? Developed feelings from her massages? Want me to let her follow you out, serve you anytime?” Mayson rolled his eyes at Stefan, teased him, then turned serious. “Just don’t forget the three tasks I gave you. If you can’t complete them, don’t call yourself my disciple. Embarrassing!” “Don’t you worry. I’ll get it done.” Stefan spoke, his gaze lingering on Mayson with a tinge of reluctance. He shed his usual careless demeanor, took a deep breath, and said, “Master… I’m off.” With that, he bows towards Mayson and walked out of prison. “Stefan the Tyrant is leaving? Hahaha! Finally, we’ve lived to see this day!” “Heavens! That demon is finally gone. I won’t have to wash his feet and give him massages every day anymore…” “Washing feet and massages? I was his human punching bag every d*mn day. My face has been swollen nonstop…” “The true dragon enters the world! Our families have hope to rise higher! Bro, quick, contact your clans! Send our most elite unmarried daughters to make contact with him! Virgin! Must be virgins…” “Wait for me! What if my family’s virgins aren’t top-tier, and the top-tier ones aren’t virgins? D*mn it, I’ll take a different path! My eldest son is dead, my daughter-in-law has been faithfully widowed—she’s absolutely top of the top!” That day, the entire Dragon-Suppressing Prison was jubilant. ***** Ambrosia Pavilion, one of River City’s most high-end restaurants, frequented only by the wealthy and powerful. Screech! A black car roared to a stop in front of there. Stefan sat in the passenger seat. After the car stopped, he pushed the door open, ready to get out. “Stefan, calm down. Ms. Easterlin didn’t mean to hide it from you on purpose. Don’t ruin her plans…” A young woman in the driver’s seat with black-framed glasses spoke urgently. Her name was Nanette Watts, Margery’s secretary. Turns out, after Stefan was released, his girlfriend Margery wasn’t there to pick him up. Instead, she sent Nanette. Nanette claimed Margery was still busy at the company and had sent her to take Stefan home first. But Stefan saw right through Nanette’s lie at the time. Under his questioning, he learned Margery was actually at Ambrosia Pavilion. He made Nanette drive him there. Stefan’s eyes narrowed slightly. After unbuckling his seatbelt, he suddenly leaned toward Nanette, his deep gaze fixed on her clean, delicate face mere inches away. Nanette instinctively shrank back but had nowhere to escape. The seatbelt around her only tightened, accentuating her curves. Stefan’s gaze was like an abyss, making Nanette feel as if she were falling into a bottomless pit. His calm, cool voice rang out. “Ruin her plans? What plans, exactly?” “I… I…” Nanette’s breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling. Her eyes darted away, not daring to look at Stefan. She stammered, unable to form words. She felt Stefan had changed since getting out. He seemed like a different person, carrying an aura of irresistible authority and an indescribable charm. That was why, after her lie was exposed earlier, pressured by that irresistible aura, she drove him to the Ambrosia Pavilion. “It’s fine if you don’t say. I’ll go see for myself…” Stefan suddenly smiled, reached out, patted Nanette’s cheek, lit a cigarette, and got out of the car. Ambrosia Pavilion, Private Room 9. Stefan pushed the door open. Cheers and urging voices reached his ears. “Drink! Drink!” “This scene is just too beautiful!” “Yeah, it’s the most beautiful ‘cross-cupped wine’ toast I’ve ever seen! A perfect match, truly made in heaven!” At the dining table, a man and a woman held wine glasses, toasting with arms linked. The man wore a white suit and a birthday hat, looking exceptionally handsome. The woman wore a sapphire-blue spaghetti-strap pleated dress that outlined an extremely sexy and graceful figure. Her face was stunning, radiant under the lights, breathtakingly beautiful. It was Margery! Stefan recognized her immediately. The woman drinking the cross-cupped wine was his girlfriend, Margery. Stefan leaned against the doorframe, a cigarette dangling from his lips, applauding. Thus, the men and women in the private room were drawn to look at the uninvited guest at the door. Margery finished her wine and turned her gaze, meeting Stefan’s eyes through the haze of smoke—deep, calm, utterly unruffled. Instantly, her expression froze in shock, her face stiffening. In her daze, the glass in her hand fell to the floor. Crash! The sound of shattering glass echoed. Margery snapped back to reality, her tone nervous and hurried. “Stefan, you… How did you get here?” Stefan ignored Margery. He exhaled a puff of smoke, then looked at the handsome man in the white suit. At the sight, he was momentarily stunned. Fidel Payne? Wasn’t this Margery’s long-lingering true love? When did he come back? “Stefan, don’t misunderstand. Fidel and I were just playing a game.” Margery walked over, her face somewhat flustered, continuing to explain. “I knew you were getting out today. I meant to pick you up, but… didn’t I ask Nanette to take you home first? Why did you come here?” “Me being here surprises you? Seems I’m not welcome,” Stefan said with a self-mocking smile, looking at Margery before him. Stefan had to admit, Margery looked breathtaking tonight. The low-cut design of her spaghetti-strap dress perfectly framed her delicate collarbones, while the snowy valley beneath was a dizzying, intoxicating sight. He knew the history. Fidel had been Margery’s senior in college—charming, handsome, the campus heartthrob who had a legion of admirers, Margery included. When Fidel suddenly left the country, Margery had been heartbroken, moping around for weeks. That was when Stefan had stepped in. He’d stayed by her side, slowly pulling her out of that shadow. By graduation, his steadfast devotion had won her over, and she’d agreed to be his girlfriend. He’d thought she’d forgotten about Fidel. Now, he knew the truth—he’d been a f*cking clown all along. He’d spent three years in prison for her, and on the day of his release, she was here, celebrating the birthday of the man she’d never stopped pining for? Even sharing a f*cking “unity cup” toast? So f*cking ironic. “Stefan, I… That’s not what I meant…” Margery bit her lip, the flush on her cheeks making her even more radiant. “Fidel and I… It’s not what you think. There’s nothing between us.” Stefan wasn’t listening. He reached out and yanked. Caught off guard, Margery was pulled forward by an irresistible force, her body crashing into his. The perfect, sensual curves pressed tightly against him, drawing envious glances from several men in the room. His arm snaked around her waist. They were inches apart, yet his face was a mask of indifference. He leaned down slightly, his lips close to her delicate, pearl-white ear, and blew a slow stream of smoke as he spoke, his voice measured and cool. “Margery, you really don’t need to explain anything to me. “Three years in prison didn’t rot my brain. I can still think for myself.” A wave of icy cold shot through Margery’s body, as if she’d been plunged into a frozen lake. Pressed against him, she felt no warmth—only a bone-deep chill. She couldn’t stop a slight tremble. Just then, Fidel approached. A flicker of something dark passed deep in his eyes at the sight, but his face was all apologetic charm. “You must be Margery’s boyfriend, Stefan? My sincerest apologies. I had no idea today was your release date. I would never have asked Margery to join my little birthday gathering otherwise. If I’ve caused any trouble between you two, please accept my apology.” Stefan pushed Margery aside and narrowed his eyes at Fidel. He heard the calculated modesty loud and clear—the subtle dig wrapped in courtesy. She knew it was Stefan’s big day, and she still chose Fidel. What a masterclass in performative innocence. He spread his hands, a relaxed, almost amused smile on his lips. “Alright then. Apologize. I’m listening.” With that, he dug a pinky finger into his ear, flicked it, and sent a tiny, unidentifiable particle flying straight onto Fidel’s forehead. Fidel flinched, too slow to dodge. His face darkened, his gaze turning stormy and uncertain. Stefan’s response had thrown him completely. Shouldn’t the guy be furious? Shouldn’t he be lashing out, maybe even throwing a punch? This calm deflection was… unexpected. “Stefan, be reasonable.” A woman’s voice, laced with reproach, cut in. She was dressed provocatively, her makeup heavy. Stefan recognized her—Lillian Watson, Margery’s best friend. “Can’t you be more understanding? Fidel only returned to the country six months ago. He doesn’t have many friends here, which is why I dragged Margery along. She knew you were getting out, for heaven’s sake. She already booked a private room at the Ambrosia Pavilion for tomorrow to welcome you back properly!” “Yes, that’s right, Stefan,” Margery chimed in, snapping out of her daze. She stepped forward, reaching for his arm. “I booked it for tomorrow, just for us…” Stefan took a deliberate step back. He looked at her as one would look at a familiar stranger, his voice flat. “Thank you. But— “No need.” With that, he turned and walked away. “Stefan, wait! Where are you going?” Margery moved to follow, but Lillian caught her arm. “Let him cool off, Margery,” Lillian advised. “He’s not listening right now. Stefan adores you; he’s always given in to you before. Just explain things when you get home later, and it’ll all blow over.” She gestured to the cake on the table. “Besides, we haven’t even cut the cake yet.” Fidel wore a mask of contrite concern. “Margery, this is all my fault, causing this misunderstanding. Perhaps you should go after him. The cake can wait…” Margery took a deep breath. “No, Fidel. I promised to celebrate your birthday. We can’t skip the cake. I’ll clear things up with Stefan later.” Lillian’s words made sense. Letting Stefan cool down was probably for the best. Deep down, Margery was confident. Stefan had always been utterly devoted, always the first to apologize after any past squabble. She was sure that once she explained herself properly later, his anger would melt away. ***** Outside the Ambrosia Pavilion, Stefan stood perfectly still. His face was a calm lake, undisturbed by anger, hurt, or disappointment. He glanced back at the opulent restaurant, and the corner of his mouth curved into a faint, cold smile. “Heh.” Margery, since your heart still belongs to your precious true love… Then consider this my gift to you.