He Ye had already barged in with large strides, throwing a punch at Zhou Lin, his voice shaking with anger, "Zhou Lin, is this how you protect her?"
"Young Master."
"Ah Lin."
Lin Yu and the butler cried out in alarm.
Zhou Lin touched his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at the butler with piercing eyes, "Take Madam out."
The butler hurriedly assisted Lin Yu and took her upstairs.
Zhou Lin moved his neck and wrists, then threw a punch back.
The two men grappled with each other.
The sound of fists pounding into flesh echoed throughout the living room.
All the servants kept away.
After what felt like ages, both men, gasping heavily and sporting bruises on their faces, finally stopped fighting.
He Ye who had thrown the first punch looked even worse than Zhou Lin. He lay on the floor, looking up at the huge chandelier, pain throbbing even as he moved his mouth.
Yet, he still asked, "Meng Qiancheng hid her away, and you still haven't found her?"
