Tall stone walls framed the compound, ivy creeping up the edges like time itself had a grip on the place. Ahead of him were two towering emerald-colored double doors, guarded by two men in black suits standing stiffly on either side. The old-money atmosphere was unmistakable—classy, quiet, but weighed down by unseen burdens.
Jason's shoes clicked against the polished stone path as he approached. One of the guards nodded and pushed a small earpiece, signaling someone inside.
Moments later, a young male assistant in a fitted vest stepped out and gave a slight bow. "Young Master Yun," he greeted smoothly. "The family head is waiting. Please, come inside."
Jason nodded and followed him through the heavy doors and into a hallway lined with traditional artwork and aged oak furniture. The assistant led him into a room with floor-to-ceiling windows and gestured to a seat by a low table.
"What would you like to drink?" the assistant asked politely.
"Just water," Jason replied, keeping his tone neutral.
As he settled in, his eyes scanned the room. Everything was perfectly arranged, but the silence had a tension to it. He didn't have to wait long before the door opened again.
An older man stepped in.
His hair, though grey, was thick and gleamed with health. His beard was impeccably maintained. The tailored navy suit he wore fit like a glove, exuding elegance. But beneath the sharp clothes and polished exterior, the years weighed visibly on him—bags under his eyes, the slight hunch of a man who had carried responsibility for far too long.
Jason stood and offered a slight bow as he extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Headmaster Son."
The old man let out a quiet chuckle, his handshake firm. "Likewise, Young Master Yun. I've heard quite a bit about you."
They sat.
There was no immediate rush into serious matters—small talk flowed first. Pleasantries, a brief exchange about the estate, and vague mentions of recent news. It was formal, measured.
Then, Headmaster Son folded his hands over his knee. "I wanted to thank you," he said, tone more sincere now. "For what you did for my granddaughter. Not many would have intervened. You may not be family, but you've acted more honorably than some who are."
Jason gave a respectful nod. "I didn't do it for gratitude, sir. Some things you just don't look away from."
"Well, regardless," the old man continued, "you have the Son family's support—should you ever need it."
Jason's gaze flickered toward the assistant, then back to the head. "Then allow me to be direct."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Scribbling a quick note, he casually palmed the folded sheet, then leaned forward and slid it across the table—face down.
Headmaster Son caught on immediately. He read the message in silence. His expression remained still, unreadable. Then, without a word, he tossed the paper into a nearby bin.
Jason stood as if preparing to leave, but he subtly raised the edge of another folded note—the real one—still in his palm. Only the headmaster could see the message hidden just beneath his fingers, resting under the glass table.
Her stepmother orchestrated the kidnapping. Be careful. She's dangerous.
Headmaster Son blinked once. The weight of the information passed without a word.
But as Jason turned to leave, the headmaster raised a hand. "Hold on," he said. "There's someone who'd like see you ."
Two female figures entered the room.
One had sleek brunette hair, heels clicking confidently on the marble floor, eyes already locked on Jason like she was sizing up her next designer bag. The other girl stood behind her with black hair, a softer expression, and a faint nervousness in her posture.
Jason recognized her immediately—Son Liying.
The brunette strutted forward and extended her hand with the back facing upward, clearly expecting Jason to kiss it. His brows lifted slightly. Without missing a beat, he took her hand and gave it a quick, firm handshake instead.
The girl blinked, thrown off. "Janet Michelson," she introduced with a toss of her hair.
Jason's ears perked up.
Michelson.
That surname was familiar. In the original novel, the Michelsons were a foreign family that caused major trouble for the protagonist abroad. If she was part of that family… she wasn't just someone's stepdaughter. She was a future threat.
"Michelson?" Jason asked, keeping his tone light. "That's not a local name. You from overseas?"
The girl's face lit up, assuming he was taking an interest. "Yes! I came here a few years ago—"
Jason gave her a polite smile, then turned toward Liying. The black-haired girl stood quietly near the corner, head lowered.
He stepped forward and gently lifted his right hand.
She hesitated a second… then walked toward him and rested her head softly against his chest. Jason wrapped an arm around her back in a quiet, protective gesture.
Gasps echoed through the room.
Janet's eyes narrowed, her lips twitching. She got a text and turned away, saying she'd stay behind for now. But anyone could tell—she was seething.
As Jason and Liying walked out, security trailing behind, Headmaster Son watched with a small, tired smile.
"Jason," he called.
Jason turned slightly.
"I heard your engagement with the Han family has ended."
Jason nodded once. "That's right."
The old man tilted his head. "Would you be open… to an engagement with my granddaughter?"
Son Liying froze beside him, cheeks going crimson.
Jason glanced at her and smiled faintly. "I wouldn't be opposed to marrying such a beautiful lady." He met her eyes, voice calm. "But… it's not just up to me."
He turned to Liying. "Would you be opposed to marrying me?"
She shook her head slowly, eyes down, face burning.
Headmaster Son grinned. "Then it's settled."
Jason glanced at Liying, who still hadn't moved since her grandfather made the announcement. Her face was flushed, eyes wide, fingers nervously clutching the hem of her sleeve.
He leaned slightly toward her and smiled. "If I'd known proposing would scare you this much, I would've brought a stuffed animal as backup."
That earned a tiny reaction—her lips curved up ever so slightly before she looked away, clearly trying to suppress it. But Jason caught it.
"You smiled," he said softly. "I'll take that as a yes."
She quickly nodded once, then held up her fingers in a small heart gesture—surprising both Jason and her grandfather.
Headmaster Son chuckled warmly. "That's the most expressive I've seen her in months."
Jason turned to her again and tapped his chin. "You know, I get the feeling you're secretly a bit of a menace."
Liying raised an eyebrow and shrugged playfully, as if to say, Maybe.
The old man sat back and looked at the two of them with a strange mix of relief and something else—hope. "If you can make her feel safe enough to do that, then maybe we really are making the right decision."
Jason didn't respond right away, but he gave Liying a short, respectful nod. I'll make sure of it.
Back in the estate, Janet had rushed to the trash bin the moment she was alone. Her mother's text had instructed her to check it.
She pulled out the crumpled paper and unfolded it.
"May I have your granddaughter's hand in marriage?"
She snapped a photo with her phone, fingers trembling, then stuffed the paper back in.
Jealousy burned quietly in her chest.
Outside, Jason waved goodbye to the old man, gave Liying's hand one last gentle squeeze, then climbed into the car. His guards followed, all of them in good spirits.
As they pulled away, Jason leaned back in the seat and let out a long breath.
But behind that calm smile, his head was filled with many thoughts .
The Michelsons.
Red-eyed traitors.
The Son family's internal rot.