Daily Life of a Transmigrating Villain

The tall, imposing gates of the Ye mansion loomed ahead, bathed in the soft light of the evening.

Ye Fan walked briskly up the stone steps, his face a mask of determination.

The mansion, nestled in the center of the city's most elite district, was more than just a home; it was the center of the Ye groups, all the architectures, industrialization and everything.

And Ye Fan naturally knew about this and visited this mansion very rarely so as not to be reminded of his responsibilities.

But today, there was something in the air—No, it was more like inside him: the confidence as he knew that today he was definitely going to prove himself as the most competent heir.

His steps echoed in the grand hallway as he approached the assistant standing at the door.

The assistant, an older man with sharp features, looked up with surprise at Ye Fan's presence.

"Master Ye, what can I do for you?" The assistant asked, bowing slightly.

"I need to speak with my father. Now," Ye Fan's voice was firm, the urgency clear in his tone.

The assistant hesitated, glancing towards the corridor leading to the study.

"Master Ye, your father is in an urgent meeting at the moment. It would be unwise to disturb him now."

Ye Fan's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he stared the assistant down.

His patience was wearing thin, and he wasn't about to be told 'no' by someone who wasn't even a part of the family.

"I don't care if he's in a meeting! I am his son, and I want to see him. Now."

The assistant's posture faltered under the intensity of Ye Fan's gaze.

He was well aware of the young man's temper and his status within the household.

"I… I understand, Master Ye," the assistant said, bowing deeply.

"Please, wait here for a moment."

Without another word, the assistant hurried off down the hall.

Ye Fan stood in the silence, his mind racing.

His father, Ye Zhi, was a man who always tried to prioritize his business and carefully controlled things without any mistakes and was disciplined.

A deal was on their lap, and Ye Fan had to be the one to bring it to his father's attention.

No one else could know—no one but his father.

The assistant returned quickly and motioned for Ye Fan to follow.

"Master Ye, please come with me."

They made their way to the large meeting room, a grand space with high ceilings and a polished marble floor.

The room was dominated by a long, oval table, surrounded by several men in suit, each with their own agenda.

As they entered, the murmur of voices stopped.

Everyone at the table turned their attention to the young man entering the room.

Ye Zhi, seated at the head of the table, looked up with a piercing gaze, his face a mask of indifference.

The assistant whispered something in his ear.

Ye Zhi's eyes flicked towards his son standing at the door, his expression unreadable.

A brief moment of silence passed before Ye Zhi addressed the room.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice calm but commanding, "I would like to end today's meeting here. We'll reconvene another time."

Without a word, the other men stood, some giving polite nods, others lingering as if to gather their thoughts.

One by one, they left, until the room was empty, save for Ye Zhi and his son.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Ye Fan walked slowly to the center of the room, his eyes never leaving his father.

His father's gaze remained cool, but there was a flicker of something—something like expectation—as he spoke.

"You must have a very good reason for disturbing me like this, Ye Fan," he said, his voice low but carrying an edge.

Ye Fan didn't hesitate.

"Father, I've learned something. It's about the land near the southcrest district—the government plans to raise the land prices soon because of a new policy."

Ye Zhi raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

"And how do you know this? Why are you wasting my time with such trivial matters? Land deals?"

His voice dropped to a mocking tone.

"I don't have time for your fantasies, Ye Fan."

But Ye Fan stood his ground, his hands clenched at his sides.

"It's not a fantasy, Father.

The prices are going to skyrocket because of the new government schemes.

And it's not just any land—it's a huge plot, one worth billions of NR."

At the mention of the staggering figure, Ye Zhi's expression changed slightly.

His fingers twitched, and his eyes narrowed.

"Billions?" he repeated slowly, his tone colder now.

"And how do you know this?

Don't tell me you've fallen for some scam.

You're not this naive, are you?"

Ye Fan took a deep breath, unwilling to back down.

"One of my friends told me about it.

He's connected, and I trust his sources."

The room grew tense.

Ye Zhi's gaze was calculating as he processed the information.

He knew that such information couldn't just leak to the public easily.

There was no way a government scheme could be so easily accessed unless someone had an insider, someone close to the decision-makers.

"Your friend?" Ye Zhi's voice was laced with suspicion.

"Who is this 'friend'?

This sounds like a dangerous game you're playing."

Ye Fan hesitated for a moment, but then spoke.

"He's well-connected.

He's in the right circles.

And I think this deal could make us—no, make you—an incredible fortune.

We could hold this land, wait for the price to rise, and then sell."

Ye Zhi stared at his son for a long moment, his face inscrutable.

Finally, he barked, "Bring him in."

A moment later, the assistant entered the room.

"Yes, Master Ye?"

"Explain to me," Ye Zhi said, his voice harsh, "how my son can come to me with such a stupid deal!!

Does he not understand the difference between short-term investments and long-term ones? Continue your saga on empire

Does he not realize that if we sink all our money into land that takes decades to appreciate, that it'll be the next generation's problem to recover it?

How does he expect to think that this deal is guaranteed and that his money would be recovered inevitably, given that it's clear it is just a fraud?"

The assistant shifted uncomfortably, clearly unwilling to be the bearer of bad news.

"Master, I—"

"Speak!" Ye Zhi shouted, his patience finally breaking.

"How can you bring me this fool with such an idiotic idea?!"

The assistant bowed deeply, stepping back into the shadows.

Ye Fan's chest tightened as his father's words cut through the air, but he refused to back down," Father, atleast—"

But before Yefan could speak further, his father yelled at assistant not on Ye fan but his eords were definitely at him, "You fool! Can't you hear me? Why did you bring this foolish son here?!"