I Am the Dragon King 09

Soon after, other prominent families also joined in by reposting and commenting.

Even the renowned heir of the Divine Physician shared the post without a word, making their stance clear, and the influential families of City A who owed favors to the Divine Physician swiftly stepped into the fray.

Xia Wuyue knew it was over—the Xia family now faced not only the fury of netizens but also the suppression from these top-tier elites.

But she refused to back down. Instead, she doubled down, claiming that Fang Zhiyi had always been a villainous live-in son-in-law, and the families defending him only proved the corruption behind the bidding process!

Then, late at night, an official announcement dropped: "After thorough investigation, the bidding process was conducted fairly with no signs of misconduct. All documentation and records are available for public review if needed."

With that bombshell, Xia Wuyue deflated.

But Xia Bingbao was even more devastated. The moment the company opened its doors, officials in uniforms swarmed in for an inspection. Soon, the Xia family’s tax evasion and product safety violations were exposed. Contracts were terminated, even with penalty fees, and suppliers halted deliveries.

The internet erupted in condemnation of the Xia family, including defections from their own employees.

Fang Zhiyi, however, missed the spectacle—he was already stepping onto the soil of Country J.

Eyeing the car sent to pick him up, Fang Zhiyi scoffed, "Well, the Dragon King’s Palace sure knows how to make an entrance. They even knew I was coming back."

"Yo—uh, Dragon King, should we hijack the plane and turn back?" Sixth Dragon whispered, his fear unmistakably genuine.

"Since we’re here, we might as well stay. Ever heard of that phrase?"

"Easier said than done," Sixth Dragon muttered miserably.

The driver remained silent, eyes fixed ahead, while a bespectacled, frail-looking man in the car asked, "May I ask why the Young Master has returned before the three-year term? Surely, it must be something urgent."

Fang Zhiyi smirked. "Reasons? Plenty. But none of your business."

Sixth Dragon and Ninth Dragon hung their heads. This "Glasses" was the Old Dragon King’s most trusted aide, more formidable than the Five Dragon Envoys—and notoriously cunning. They were already plotting how to cover Fang Zhiyi’s escape.

To their surprise, Glasses simply smiled. "Very well. I trust the Young Master will justify his actions appropriately."

The Dragon King’s Palace had spent years infiltrating Jiang City, a major economic hub in heavily guarded China, as a foothold for future expansion. The Old Dragon King had sent Fang Zhiyi to solidify this outpost.

As for titles like "Young Master" or "heir"? Glasses had seen plenty. The Old Dragon King had many adopted sons—all ultimately just pawns in his game.

The Dragon King’s Palace flaunted its opulence in Country J. From a distance, Fang Zhiyi spotted the palace-like structure.

"Damn, how rich are these people?" Fang Zhiyi drooled.

Glasses studied him through the rearview mirror, a flicker of killing intent in his eyes.

Passing through gate after gate, Fang Zhiyi strode into the grand hall with Sixth and Ninth Dragon in tow. Gazing up at the domed ceiling and running his hands over the white jade pillars carved with dragons, he couldn’t help but let his saliva drip.

"Now this is class." Compared to his shabby factory, warehouse, and even the villa extorted from the Xia family—which might as well be a bathroom here—this was another world.

Sixth and Ninth Dragon barely breathed. They’d grown loyal to Fang Zhiyi, willing to risk punishment by accompanying him back, but that didn’t mean they weren’t terrified.

"Why so jumpy?" Fang Zhiyi turned to them. "How about we chip off a few pillars, carve them into trinkets, and sell ‘em for 998 a pop on live stream? The profit would be insane." He squinted, already envisioning the scheme.

"Three years in China have changed you," a low voice echoed from ahead.

Fang Zhiyi looked up to see a white-robed figure seated on a throne.

"Holy—!" Fang Zhiyi’s eyes bulged, while Sixth and Ninth Dragon dropped to their knees, trembling.

"That chair’s gotta be worth a fortune too. Gems! What’s wrong with you two?" Fang Zhiyi frowned.

"As guards, you failed to stop the Young Master from violating the Dragon King’s Palace’s laws. The penalty is death." The voice was icy. A shadow lunged past Fang Zhiyi, aiming for the kneeling duo.

Just as Sixth Dragon started planning his next life, death never came. He peeked open his eyes to see Fang Zhiyi gripping the clawed hand inches from his face.

"Killing my men in front of me? You got a death wish?" Gone was Fang Zhiyi’s greed—now he radiated pure menace.

The Black Dragon Envoy stiffened, unable to break free.

The throne’s occupant finally showed a hint of emotion. "It seems China taught you well." The Black Dragon Envoy was the strongest of the Five Envoys, yet Fang Zhiyi held him effortlessly.

"But seizing company control without permission demands an explanation," the Old Dragon King rumbled.

Fang Zhiyi nodded. The Dragon King’s Palace’s intelligence network was formidable—his precautions hadn’t stopped the leak.

"As the heir, you needn’t be so impatient. Unless I misjudged your character."

Fang Zhiyi tightened his grip. A scream later, he hurled the Black Dragon Envoy aside like a rag. The Old Dragon King’s brow twitched. He’d expected Fang Zhiyi’s defiance, but not this audacity.

"Young Master! Are you rebelling?" A cloaked figure emerged from behind a pillar, blade in hand.

Fang Zhiyi glanced back at the frail man adjusting his glasses.

"Keep kneeling, and you’ll die for real," Fang Zhiyi told Sixth and Ninth Dragon softly. They exchanged glances, then stood. "Our lives are yours now, Young Master!"

Fang Zhiyi scowled. "You know I hate that title."

"Huh?"

The Old Dragon King leaned forward. "So your wings have hardened. Your antics in Jiang City were a test, yet you remain reckless. Was your final move to come here and die? Should I praise your courage or your stupidity?"

Fang Zhiyi pointed. "Stop smirking, or I’ll rip your lips off."

To his own surprise, the Old Dragon King chuckled, his lips quirking.

"Oh, you—" Fang Zhiyi rolled up his sleeves.

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