Zhao Lifei was panicking. All of the dresses in her closet were beautiful and of the highest quality, but none of them fit her properly! She bought all these before the two-week coma so they were now too loose for her.

She anxiously paced back and forth in her room, her eyes filled with worry and dread. The banquet was tomorrow!

She did not have the time to contact a designer to specifically have a dress styled to her body size. She tried to call the tailors she knew best, but all of them had been booked weeks in advance and she had an inkling suspicion that it was because many of the socialites would be gathered at the banquet, hence, all of the tailors’ schedules were jam-packed.

She contemplated the idea of bailing out in the last minute but knew her grandfather would never allow it. Collapsing onto her bed, she let out a loud groan filled with irritation.

- - - - -

The Underworld.

Yang Feng took a sip of his wine, swirling the dark crimson drink in the glass, his eyes cold as ice and his face as emotionless as a mask. He was casually sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, leaning his forehead on a propped up arm. With his relaxed posture and bored reaction, one would think he was sitting on a throne having a chat about the weather, instead of watching the live torture of a man.

Ren Xiong was struggling to breathe, much less even talk. His body was so mutilated and expertly sliced enough to cause tremendous pain but not death. The man looked more like a butchered animal than a human.

Guo Sheng twirled the knife in his hands, his entire body soaked in blood from head to toe, the only thing protected was his face, clean and pale as jade. He had managed to torture a good handful of information from this man, but there was one crucial item that Ren Xiong couldn’t answer.

"Big Boss, I think this pig can’t speak anymore." Guo Sheng pouted, raising a leg to kick the man in the face, stomping and grinding the bottom of his shoe onto the man who was in so much pain, but couldn’t voice it out.

Yang Feng’s eyes trailed to Ren Xiong’s hands whose fingers were intact only in one hand. "Get him a paper and pen then." Right after he said that, Chen Gaonan strolled forward with them and passed it to Ren Xiong, whose eyes were so crazy from the torture, his simple brain couldn’t even register what was being handed to him.

"Proceed." Yang Feng took a sip of the wine as Guo Sheng threateningly raised his knife again when Ren Xiong didn’t want to grab the paper. Through his muffled screams, Ren Xiong hurriedly grabbed the pen, his bloodied arms visibly shaking.

Guo Sheng paused and waited for the man to write something and just then, a sharp ringtone sliced through the suffocating atmosphere.

Yang Feng already knew who was calling by the ringtone. "Continue." He muttered, grabbing the phone and walking out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the silent hallways.

"Lifei, did you just wake up?" He said, his voice filled with warmth, the glacier within his eyes melting as if it was summer.

"I woke up an hour ago." She replied, her voice slightly panicked which immediately made him worry for her.

"Is everything alright? Are you hurt anywhere? Did something happen? I’m on my way to you." Yang Feng picked up his pace and rushed to the car.

"I’m fine, don’t worry. But I have a bit of a dilemma..."

This made the overly-protective Yang Feng panic even more as he climbed into the car and made Hu Wei speed to her house.

"The Ling banquet is tomorrow, are you going with anyone?" She paused and then said, "Do you want to be my date?" She didn’t realize how rude she sounded by implying he was to be her date and not the other way around. Usually, very prominent and affluent men like him would never be the date, it was always the other way around!

"Wait, I don’t mean it in a disrespectful—"

"Sure." He calmly replied, even though his eyes were lit up in delight. He was thrilled she was the first to offer the invite. Their relationship was sailing smoother than he planned and he was delighted to have that.

"Oh." She blinked. "Then what color tie or handkerchief are you wearing. Maybe we can match the colors..."She trailed off, nearly smacking her forehead. Same colors? How cheesy and foolish of her!

"Any color is fine with me. What dress are you wearing?"

"About that... I don’t have a dress yet." Her voice became quiet. She tilted her head to the chaotic walk-in closet where clothes were strewn about in her franticness to find a dress that actually fit.

Yang Feng’s lips curled upwards at the opportunity to go on a date with her again. "I’ll take you to get one."

"No, wait, I don’t mean that—"

"Get ready. I’m ten minutes away from your house." Yang Feng didn’t give her a chance to protest before hanging up the phone and then texting Chen Gaonan to contact the best designer in town.

After reaching her house, Yang Feng practically dragged the hesitant Zhao Lifei into his car and had Hu Wei drive to the opposite side of the city to visit a close friend of Yang Feng. When Zhao Lifei saw the Granse logo, her eyes widened.

"This is Granse. It’s owned by a friend. The store has extremely high security and confidentiality. There is only one of each dress in the entire world." He said, clasping his hand into hers and pulling her into the store.

Zhao Lifei looked at him in confusion. "But the waitlist for a dress here is at least a year. Nothing here is ready to wear." She said, remembering that during her socialite years, she had exhausted all of her resources just to get a dress from here, only for it to be ruined by Zheng Tianyi, who pushed her and caused her to stumble into the dessert table, making her a laughing stock.

"The waitlist does not apply to me." He confidently told her, pushing the door open and causing the store representatives to immediately rush forward.

"Sir, Madam, we apologize. The store is fully booked—"

Yang Feng walked past them without a care in the world. He did not even spare them a single look.

The store associates were about to call security when they saw the man was accompanied by a long line of guards whose builds and auras felt more like trained assassins than regular bodyguards.