Extraordinary Realm from Persuasion System

"Minister Zhang, your friend here, is making fun of our ancestor like this."

"Is this..."

White’s words remained relatively polite, as this was the most gentle phrasing he could muster at the moment.

No matter if Zhang Beixing was someone who climbed up from poverty, he was now an existence that the Eight Great Clans could only look up to.

Thus, despite being extremely angry, White still feared Zhang Beixing’s strength and didn’t dare to offend him.

Standing aside, with arms crossed and an attitude of watching the show, Zhang Beixing heard White’s words.

He glanced over at the young vampire girl, seeing her looking completely unbothered, even ignoring White.

The idea of enjoying the drama grew stronger in his mind.

Zhang Beixing didn’t originally know the girl was talking about the ancestor of the Alba Clan, but seeing White’s current expression, plus that constipated look, Zhang Beixing instantly understood the situation.

It was evident that this vampire, akin to a two-hundred-year-old Celestial Mountain Child, had known the ancestor of the Alba Clan.

Who would have thought he’d see such gossip abroad?

How could Zhang Beixing possibly stop it, his heart set on watching the drama, even tempted to add fuel to the fire?

"White, it seems you’ve misunderstood."

"We’re not friends, just happened to meet tonight and came back together."

Upon hearing Zhang Beixing’s words, the girl was stunned, her mouth twitching slightly.

Then she bit her little fangs in anger and glared fiercely at Zhang Beixing.

Although upon reflection, it was indeed their first meeting tonight, and could not be considered a friendship.

However, before this, the girl considered herself welcome wherever she went, based on her identity and appearance.

Many scrambled to establish some connection with her, most of whom she would disdainfully avoid, and some required a bit of force to resolve.

But never before had she seen someone like Zhang Beixing rush to disassociate himself from her.

Over on White’s side, upon hearing Zhang Beixing’s words, he was also taken aback.

Not friends?

White looked at the young girl spouting nonsense, glaring at Zhang Beixing in anger.

By now, White had a suspicion in his heart that things might be slightly different from what he thought.

While Zhang Beixing’s relationship with the girl wasn’t nonexistent, it certainly wasn’t deep, otherwise, he wouldn’t have said such a thing right in front of him.

Thus, it seemed that as long as he didn’t go too far, Zhang Beixing wouldn’t have a bad impression of him.

Thinking of this, White felt assured.

His eyes flared with suppressed anger once more.

White lifted his head slightly, looking down at the girl with a superior view.

His tone was cold.

"I thought you were a friend of Minister Zhang just now and gave you some leeway, but you turned out to be so unreasonable, daring to insult my ancestor. Looking at your clothes, you shouldn’t be from an ordinary family. You’d better state your name immediately, and I’ll have your family come to Alba Manor to apologize and take you away. If I have to investigate it myself, the consequences won’t be this simple."

At that moment, White assumed that a girl who came rushing to his manor to deceive must come from some obscure family.

And perhaps she was just a branch dependent on his family.

The girl, originally gritting her teeth at Zhang Beixing, upon hearing White’s words, turned to glare at White.

The expression on her face naturally shifted to one of indifference, as if making an extra expression for White was a waste.

Then she calmly uttered.

"Dracula, Alina."

White had been quite displeased at seeing the girl’s indifferent expression.

Like a billionaire facing a penniless vagabond, clearly having numerous ways to easily prevail.

Yet he had been told to use bare-knuckle fights, preventing him from utilizing his full prowess.

White was inwardly planning to teach this impolite family a profound lesson once he found out the girl’s surname and family.

Deep enough for them to forever remember the name Alba.

However, his fantasy was abruptly interrupted by the girl’s cold acclamation.

White racked his brain, searching for the name Dracula.

What kind of surname was this?

It felt vaguely familiar, yet it wasn’t among the renowned clans.

Let alone the Eight Great Clans, even among the noteworthy smaller ones White knew, he’d never heard of it.

Could she be from an ordinary background?

Yet, this suspicion was swiftly dismissed by White himself.

Because he felt as if he had heard the name Dracula somewhere.

And it felt special and tangible.

If it were ordinary, he wouldn’t have felt this way.

So White was racking his brains.

Where could it be?

As White strained to recall where he might have heard of the surname Dracula.

Alina could see the confusion from White’s slightly furrowed brow and his dazed eyes as he pondered deeply.

Alina’s lips, red as if stained with blood-red lipstick, curved slightly in disdain.

"That little runt Mino should have starved to death on the street back then."

Alina’s scornful words were like a slap across White’s arrogant face.

White’s eyes flared with anger; how dare this Alina intensify the insult.

Boldly speaking words that so humiliated his ancestor.

White was about to call for reinforcement, intending to teach the girl a lesson first.

But before he could turn around, her earlier scornful words hit him like a hammer.

White suddenly recalled that his ancestor had, aside from leaving a substantial fortune.

Also left behind a diary, akin to an autobiography.

It contained many of the ancestor’s life principles and noteworthy anecdotes.

Though many of those life principles seem outdated now.

The diary held unique commemorative significance to the Alba Clan.

So each successive Family Head would read it diligently, with the attitude of reading a classic.

White was no exception, despite it being many years ago.

However, White still vaguely remembered.

Mino’s ancestor wrote about when he had nothing, barely able to eat daily.

Once due to his astounding arithmetic talent, he was appreciated by the top aristocrats of the time and got a chance in business.

It was by this opportunity that Mino’s ancestor shone through, achieving greatness and establishing a vast enterprise.

If White remembered correctly, the aristocrat’s surname mentioned in that diary was Dracula.

Upon realizing this, White’s pupils contracted slightly; if Mino’s ancestor’s tale could be gleaned from some secret channels.

How could anyone know the Dracula aristocracy’s relation with Mino’s ancestor?

Each Family Head succeeded posthumously.

So it’s no exaggeration to say only White should know of this.

White looked at Alina in disbelief.

"No, impossible."

"How do you know this?"

"It’s impossible."

Alina, seeing White’s panicked expression, chuckled lightly.

"I thought Mino, that little brat, really never mentioned it to his descendants."

"Seems he had a bit of conscience after all."