The Strongest Dandy in the City Chapter 1 - 1 1 Ye Fool

The Ye family ranked among the top grand clans in Capital City. Patriarch Ye Zhenhong held a spot in Huaxia Country's top five leaders, a powerhouse whose single sneeze could send tremors through the whole city.

Yet, among the Ye family members, Ye Chenfeng drew the most attention.

Ye Chenfeng had earned a reputation across Capital City for his foolish and naive ways, though this wasn't something he was born with.

In his younger days, Ye Chenfeng shone as a genuine playboy son among Capital City's elites, but his wild antics followed a code that clashed with other rich heirs, leading to his isolation from their circles over time.

The tale of how Ye Chenfeng turned foolish truly started three years back.

Three years prior, Elder Ye Zhenhong set up a marriage alliance for Ye Chenfeng.

Similar to the Yes, the Bais formed a top-tier family in Capital City, and Bai Xueling stood out as the city's top beauty—a goddess idolized by all the young prodigals there.

That their admired goddess would wed Ye Chenfeng as his fiancée?

Instantly, the heirs from major families directed their rage at Ye Chenfeng.

One day, while Ye Chenfeng ventured out solo, a pack of these rich wastrels ambushed him and unleashed a brutal beating without warning.

Even worse, amid the attack, someone grabbed a roadside brick and smashed it against his head, causing the persistent foolishness that gripped him, along with occasional wild frenzies.

His moods turned wildly unstable, and physicians labeled Ye Chenfeng's condition as acute panic disorder.

Upon hearing of the event, Elder Ye exploded in rage.

Still, powerful clans followed strict codes—no elder meddling in juniors' small fights unless lives were at stake.

Elder interference meant all-out war between clans.

Besides, Ye Chenfeng's case tangled multiple top Capital City families, where any clash risked total ruin, bad news for all of Huaxia Country.

For the greater good, Elder Ye forced down his fury.

Bad luck piled on relentlessly.

Just five days back, Ye Chenfeng's parents died in a car crash, news that left both Elder Ye and Ye Chenfeng collapsing in grief.

Right then, Ye Chenfeng rose from his bed, confusion clouding his face, brows knitting then easing repeatedly.

He'd lingered in that state for much of the day.

Clarity surged through his mind bit by bit.

Suddenly, his hands gripped his thighs hard, excitement flushing his cheeks, for he wasn't the true Ye Chenfeng.

He hailed from five hundred years ahead, a national super-elite nurtured by the state.

On a mission to obliterate an enemy virus lab, he triggered an explosion that vaporized him and the base alike.

He'd figured survival was impossible then, but upon waking, his soul leaped five centuries back, seizing the body of grand clan heir Ye Chenfeng.

Now, his mind's Sea of Consciousness gleamed with perfect sharpness.

With the soul takeover, the panic disorder tormenting the original Ye Chenfeng had vanished completely.

Eight or nine hours had ticked by since he awoke, as his soul kept fusing with the body's host memories, granting him a solid grasp of this world and the shell he now wore.

Thrilling joy overflowed in his heart.

No nonstop wars raged here day and night, pollution didn't choke the air, and food worries stayed far away.

He recalled how, five hundred years on, the globe transformed—nations locked in eternal battles, deadly radiation tech wrecking the planet, folks needing masks just to step out, scarce meals a dream.

Starvation claimed countless lives daily.

From this body's original memories, today's world outshone the future hell by heaven's margin.

Only after full soul-body fusion did he exhale deeply and murmur, “Brother, since I’ve taken your body, from now on I am you, and you are me.”

This rang true enough, with the host's memories now woven into his soul, blending two souls as one.

He rose and faced a full-length mirror, eyeing his reflection—fine delicate features, somewhat hollow cheeks, messy black hair, crafting a strikingly handsome look.

This vessel clearly packed prime outer appeal.

The old vacant stupidity clouding his face had shifted to cool detachment.

In his prior life, Ye Chenfeng served as the nation's prized super talent, staying calm and sharp amid crises, face locked in an unreadable poise hiding his real intents.

“Crackle—”

Loud racket shattered Ye Chenfeng’s thoughts.

His brows furrowed faintly as he headed down.

Within the Ye family hall.

“Wu Xiaofei, get the hell out. Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you’re a woman.

I’m here today to visit the ‘idiot Ye.’”

Men and women filled the hall; the voice belonged to a 23- or 24-year-old guy in a white casual suit, exuding lazy ease.

He was Song Zhong, true heir of the Songs—a Capital City clan matching the Yes in might.

Song Zhong had joined the assault on Ye Chenfeng three years before.

A woman in her late twenties faced him, her military uniform failing to conceal her stunning curves.

Disgust etched her features as she spread her arms, barring Song Zhong and his crew.

“Song Zhong, better restrain yourself.

Think you can barge into the Yes’ private turf?

You’re the one who ought to scram,” Wu Xiaofei snapped, lip caught between teeth, tone dripping ire.

Song Zhong's eyes glinted craftily at Wu Xiaofei’s ample chest, lips clucking “tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Wu Xiaofei, you’re merely a military doc.

Think you can block us?

Listen up, the Yes are done for.

Once old man Ye kicks it, their clan crumbles.

Know why we slipped into the Ye grounds so smooth?

Ye collateral branches opened the gates.

They’re set to jump ship to the Songs.”

Song Zhong grew cockier with each word, spraying spit while ogling Wu Xiaofei lewdly: “Wu Xiaofei, how about one night with me?

I’ll spare the Ye house today for your sake, deal?

Being my girl, Song Zhong’s girl, countless crave it.

I offer it out of respect, letting you bed me.”

“Wu Xiaofei, drop the saint act.

Submit to Brother Zhong already?

He’d treasure you plenty.”

“Why so sweet on the Ye idiot?

Maybe the Ye fool excels down there?

Sample Brother Zhong, you’d beg for seconds.”

…

Song Zhong’s crew hurled ever filthier taunts, which he savored, nodding along eagerly.

Wu Xiaofei’s icy glare swept them as she barked, “You scum, watch your filthy mouths. Don’t figure I, Wu Xiaofei, am pushover.

Even if Wus rate second-tier, I’m no toy for you, Song Zhong.”

Song Zhong’s gaze turned stormy, a creepy chuckle rumbling from his throat. “Wu Xiaofei, I planned gentle handling!

Since you court pain, fault me not for roughing up a lady.”

“Song Zhong, try laying a hand on me and see,” Wu Xiaofei held firm, resolve hardening her frosty expression.

As tensions boiled toward blows, a mocking voice rang through the hall. “Since when do random punks stroll into the Ye family home?

You figure the Yes lack guardians?”

Ye Chenfeng sauntered in casually, catching every word of Song Zhong and Wu Xiaofei’s clash.

Wu Xiaofei’s memories surged up; childhood pals, she two-three years senior, always his big sis protector.

Spotting Ye Chenfeng, Wu Xiaofei’s chill softened to worry as she hurried over. “Chenfeng, you’re awake at last.

You’ve slept five days straight.

Any body aches now?”

Sensing her pure care, warmth flooded Ye Chenfeng. “Xiaofei sister, I’m good, thanks for nursing me these days.”

“Chenfeng, skip the thanks with me.

Who else steps up for you now but me?” Wu Xiaofei replied easily, a knowing grin lighting her face.

“You Ye idiot, we trekked here to see you, and you leave us standing?

No tea coming?” Song Zhong fumed at being ignored by Ye Chenfeng and Wu Xiaofei, barking orders haughtily.

The old Ye Chenfeng might’ve obeyed.

Post-beating three years ago, his spine snapped; dim and timid, he unraveled emotionally facing his old attackers.

Facing Song Zhong’s smugness, Ye Chenfeng faked pure terror and panic.

Before his cure, that’s how he reacted to Song Zhong, who loved degrading him.

Under such setup, how could he let foes escape lightly?

“Chenfeng, ignore him.

This is Ye turf, not Song Zhong’s playground,” Wu Xiaofei soothed, spotting his fear.

She puzzled briefly; hadn’t he brimmed bold moments ago?

But she shrugged it off.

Ye Chenfeng battled heavy panic disorder; moods flipped wild, crumbling standard before Song Zhong.

“Hmph.” Song Zhong sneered. “Ye fool, weren’t you big-talking?

Yes bar randoms, huh?

Brew my tea now, or regret it.”

Ye Chenfeng shuddered out of the hall.

He’d rushed too hot-headed there.

Even crushing a clown like Song Zhong needed shadows, not daylight.

As proverb warns, tall poppies get chopped.

Capital elites spotting his change spelled needless woes.

Ye Chenfeng’s soul fusion was fresh; he wielded under ten percent of old battle prowess.

Danger would leave him exposed.

Thus, feigning panic patient suited for now.

Yet inwardly, a scheme brewed to launch Song Zhong “blissfully” sky-high.

Eyeing Ye Chenfeng’s exit, disappointment stung Wu Xiaofei.

She craved his manly stand, not groveling to serve Song Zhong.

Teeth gnawing her lush red lip, Wu Xiaofei ached to storm off seeing his wretch state, yet couldn’t abandon him to Song Zhong’s games.