C16 Mother's Death

"No losses?" Muhan's gaze was icy as he looked at the butler. "No progress is a loss. I, Muhan, don't keep useless people around. Pass on my words: in my world, opportunities are for those with real ability. If she thinks she's reached her limit, she should be ready to be replaced!"

The butler's face stiffened at Muhan's words, and he nervously glanced at him.

"What, was I not clear enough?"

"Crystal clear."

"Send the intel to the buyer and throw in an extra piece of information. Also, prepare a detailed report on Mu Ling's activities over the past three months. I want that evaluation on my desk before lunch!" Muhan instructed methodically.

"Yes, sir," the butler replied, trembling as if walking on thin ice.

Since his mother's death, Muhan hadn't shown any happiness. His temperament had become unpredictable—sometimes calm, other times explosively angry, leaving others unsure of how to act. His presence alone brought an overwhelming sense of pressure.

The butler, once the personal driver for Muhan's mother, had seen more than most. Muhan and his mother had always been close, and her sudden passing was something he struggled to accept.

In the aftermath, Muhan turned to alcohol to numb his pain, which took a toll on his health. He nearly succumbed to it, but timely medical intervention saved him.

Since then, his eyes were no longer as dark as obsidian but had turned into a captivating deep blue.

“Is there anything else?” Muhan asked coldly, glancing at the butler.

“Young Master, the girl is still in room two.” The butler couldn't bear to see Muhan accumulate so much resentment. Although most of the maids initially resisted, they eventually complied willingly. After all, the intelligence network the Young Master controlled was an underground web, and not all methods were as transparent as they seemed. The butler just hoped the Young Master could show some leniency towards the women, as long as it didn’t interfere with the expected outcomes.

“Take her to room eight for the human instrument tests. Check her I, EO, and natural reflexes, among other indicators. After the tests, bring her to me,” Muhan instructed the butler, his face devoid of emotion.

“Yes, sir.” The butler kept his head down, avoiding eye contact. The easygoing young man he once knew was gone, vanished along with his mother’s passing.

Almost overnight, he became a different person. After a brush with death, a demon seemed to inhabit his once beautiful shell.

In just a few years, he had built a vast intelligence network, the effort and dedication of which were beyond others' comprehension. But the butler understood, having watched Muhan change bit by bit into someone completely unfamiliar—a stranger who was now his boss.

"Go ahead!" Feng Muhan said calmly, leaning back in his chair and letting his muscles relax completely. As the butler left, he gently closed the door behind him.

The study returned to silence. Muhan opened his eyes and gazed out the window. This land was his mother's homeland. Five years ago, after expanding his underground intelligence network overseas, he had moved his mother's remains back to her native France.

France is a country vibrant with color, where people are passionate, exuberant, and free-spirited. His mother was a beautiful French woman with long, wavy brown hair. As a child, he loved running his small hands through her hair, feeling its softness, as if he were at the seaside, experiencing the coolness of the waves.

Looking into her deep blue eyes felt like floating in an endless blue ocean, with a gentle breeze caressing his cheeks. His mother was stunningly beautiful, unforgettable at first sight. Her very essence was gentle and romantic.

From a young age, he inherited his parents' striking features, blending the best of both Eastern and Western traits. Wherever he went, he quickly became the center of attention. He used to enjoy this, as his mother's smile would light up when others praised him. Although he didn't particularly like being viewed as a rare spectacle, his mother's happiness made him happy too.

The good times didn't last long. Ten years ago, when he was in high school, he noticed one day that his usually cheerful mother had stopped smiling. After some time, he realized that his father was having an affair. Not long after that, his mother died under mysterious circumstances.

His hand, which had been resting on the desk, had somehow turned into a fist. He slowly unclenched it, trying to calm his emotions.

To this day, his mother's death remains a mystery. However, he believes that the truth about her death will soon come to light.