"It will cause instability among the shareholders. For now, it's best if we don't touch the shares," LY Andong said calmly. "Besides, Little Mo is still young. We haven't truly been involved in his upbringing since he was a child. His temperament... still needs time to be tempered."
He paused before continuing, his voice a little heavier. "It's inappropriate to reveal matters of inheritance and shares to him at this stage."
"Don't worry, Dad," Andong added after a beat, his tone slightly firmer. "No matter what, Lin Mo is my biological son with Sang. We mustn't be foolish enough to disregard him. His share of the company will be safeguarded."
Before Elder Joo could speak, LY Andong emphasized again, "In front of Elder Joo, I've already made repeated promises that I will treat Lin Mo well."
Once more, the topic of sending Lin Mo away surfaced. Lendon, hesitant but resolute, suggested the move again. Faced with this, Elder Joo found himself too embarrassed to insist Andong hand over any of his shares immediately.
The two men talked back and forth for nearly an hour. By the time they emerged from the study, the dinner laid out on the long dining table had already turned cold. Despite the meal, neither of them had much of an appetite.
LY Andong felt like a stone had been placed heavily upon his chest. Even Elder Joo, though silent, appeared visibly uncomfortable. But despite the discontent, Elder Joo was not entirely disappointed with the outcome.
At the very least, LY Andong had agreed to send Lin Coen away. That alone bought them time.
"As long as we remove that junior from the picture," Elder Joo had said coldly, "we can take our time with the rest."
It was nearly 9 PM when LY Andong finally left the XE Family Villa. Even before he arrived back at the Lyn Family Villa, he had already stepped out of the car along the way, needing to walk and clear his head.
A cold gust of night wind hit his face, sobering him up instantly.
There was no doubt in his mind now—Elder Joo hadn't invited him just for a family dinner. The man had been sending a message, posturing for control. Demonstrating his influence.
Sure, LY Andong held the trauma cream formula in his hands—a major leverage—but it was still not the right time to burn all bridges.
He had to endure. For now.
Taking a deep breath, Andong reached up and pressed his forehead, massaging away the headache that had formed.
In the end, this mess all traced back to Xyon.
If Elder Joo hadn't loved his daughter so deeply, he never would have agreed to let Andong send Lin Coen away. No matter how discreet, the act was a blow to the family's reputation.
Despite all the surface-level agreements he had made with Elder Joo, LY Andong had no intention of actually sending Lin Coen away.
Not now. Not ever.
"This matter can only be executed through Joy Fang," Andong murmured to himself. His eyes sharpened.
Since childhood, LY Coen had been raised at Joy Fang's side. He was the son she had single-handedly brought up and poured her emotions into. In Joy Fang's heart, Lin Coen's place was leagues above Lin Mo's.
Not just hers. The entire Lyn family felt the same.
As long as Lin Coen continued to do well—performed his role obediently, carried the family image, and lived under the Lyn name—sending Lin Mo away would become a matter of formality.
Joong wouldn't object then. No one would.
And that would make everything... much simpler.
Thinking this through, LY Andong finally relaxed. A rare smile crept onto his lips.
Meanwhile, back at the Lyn Family Villa, Lin Coen was also playing his cards carefully—trying to win Joy Fang's favor.
In the living room, Joy Fang sat quietly on the sofa. Her brows were knitted tightly. The television in front of her blared a colorful variety show, full of exaggerated laughter and flashing lights, but none of it reached her heart.
She sighed occasionally, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"Mom," Lin Coen began softly, "are you thinking about brother? How are things going on his end? Did he say if he wants to come back?"
He was trying his best to sound concerned, even a little fragile—like a good, considerate son.
Joy Fang looked at him and shook her head. She had been planning to tell Lin Mo's side of the story—maybe even clear the misunderstanding—but when she saw Coen's face, her throat tightened.
The boy in front of her—no, the young man—was her husband's child with another woman. The very child she had raised for over ten years, thinking he was her own, only to realize he was the product of betrayal.
Her heart twisted.
"Mom, are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?" Lin Coen asked quickly, picking up his phone. "I'll call Third Sister to come over right away."
Joy Fang caught his hand gently and shook her head. "It's fine, Little Coen. No need to worry. Mom just needs a bit of rest. Maybe I haven't been sleeping well lately—my mind's been a little cloudy."
Lin Coen inched a little closer, still wearing that gentle concern. "Mom, you have to take care of your health. It's all our fault for being too emotional earlier. My brother pulling out that severance agreement… it caught everyone off guard. But please, don't take it to heart. Don't let it upset you."
At the mention of the severance agreement, Joy Fang's face darkened again. Her grip on her wrist tightened.
But then, a stray thought crossed her mind—one that startled her.
This Lin Coen… he was clever. Too clever. Subtle, manipulative even. His words carried hidden blades—gentle in appearance but designed to inflame.
He knew how disgraceful that severance agreement was to the Lyn family. Yet he brushed it off lightly, pretending it wasn't a big deal.
And in doing so, he subtly reminded her—Lin Mo had humiliated the family.
It was a clever play.
In the past, Joy Fang might've brushed off such comments, or even praised Lin Coen for his tact and awareness. But tonight… something felt different.
Tonight, she found herself disgusted.
A teenager this calculating is frightening.
And yet, for over a year, she'd believed what he'd said about Lin Mo—how the boy was disobedient, rude, incapable of being molded into a Lyn. She had swallowed it all.
But what if it wasn't true?
What if Lin Mo wasn't the monster she had been led to believe?
Joy Fang's heart filled with self-blame. Guilt roared in her veins.
How could I be so blind?
But beside her, Lin Coen remained still, his expression serene. Inside, he was elated.
Mom must be blaming Lin Mo again… and regretting trusting him.
He had spent so many years living in her heart. That place wasn't something Lin Mo could simply walk into—not after all this time.
And in Lin Coen's mind, he had won again.