As the city lights began to come on, news of another attack on the young heir of the Long family spread like wildfire. It traveled even faster than the report of that morning’s incident. After all, the first attack had left only a scratch, while this one had drawn blood. The way she had been targeted without anyone noticing made it hard not to suspect that a dangerous and powerful enemy was behind it.
Even the doctor living right next door to Jing Pei had been dragged into the chaos. If Qiu Fa hadn’t arrived in the nick of time, there was no telling what might have happened.
Long Yiming was on edge. He even turned away everyone who came to check on her, worried that the enemy might be hiding among them.
“Thank goodness Qiu Fa got there when he did.”
“Once Qiu Fa takes action, there’s no escaping him. We just have to wait for the news,” Long Peici said, patting her chest in relief. The ordeal had scared her half to death. The current Jing Pei was no longer the insignificant person they had ignored when she was first brought back; she was now the true backbone of the Long family. If anything happened to her, it would throw everything into chaos.
Jing Pei’s eyes flickered with a subtle light. “That’s true. No criminal has ever managed to escape from Qiu Fa’s grasp.”
“All right, this place isn’t safe. We’re going home so you can recover,” Long Yiming declared, making the final call.
If he had known she would be attacked again, he would have taken her home that morning. This was unacceptable. Security at the Atavist hospital was a joke, and they were never coming back.
“Where is Chu Xusheng?” he suddenly remembered. As a retainer, where was he when his lord had been injured?
“I sent him to take care of something,” Jing Pei replied.
“Ah.” Long Yiming’s expression softened a little.
Since everything she needed to do at the hospital was finished, Jing Pei stood up to head home with Long Yiming and the others. “Oh, right.”
Jing Pei grabbed the basket from the bedside table containing the canned tuna Big Cat had given her. It was very likely he had saved it from his own rations. A broke Big Cat who was still willing to share his food with her… ah, how adorable. Of course she had to take it with her.
Out in the hallway, she spotted Tang Woxue, whose wounds had all been treated. He was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, with both legs in casts resting on the footrests of his wheelchair.
“Are you heading back?” Tang Woxue asked, looking up at her.
“My family doesn’t feel safe leaving me here. Why don’t you come back to the Long estate and recover there? You were badly injured because of me, so please let me make it up to you.”
Technically, it was true. If Tang Woxue hadn’t stayed at the hospital because of Jing Pei’s invitation the night before, he wouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire.
Long Yiming immediately added, “Dr. Tang has already proven what he can do. I judged him too quickly before because I didn’t understand what a real genius looked like. Dr. Tang is more than qualified to become our family doctor.”
Who could have imagined that someone could achieve such proficiency in Atavist medicine after self-studying for such a short time? He had followed their young heir into battle and successfully saved Mei Yanlan.
Tang Woxue tried to flash his usual bright smile out of habit, but the burns and tight bandages around his face kept him from moving properly. In the end, all he could offer was a sincere look.
“It would be an honor to serve the young heir. However, I still have some personal matters to take care of, so I’m afraid I can’t accept the position just yet. I only hope the offer will still stand once everything has been settled.”
Previously, his only motivation for wanting to become the Long family’s doctor was to find an opportunity to harvest Jing Pei’s dragon horns. Things were different now. But still, the time was not right.
“Lord Dragon God?” The members of the Long family gave him strange looks.
Tang Woxue’s heart skipped a beat.
Jing Pei merely raised an amused eyebrow. She probably thought it was either a slip of the tongue or the usual praise of a devoted Dragon worshiper trying to flatter her. Either way, she paid it no mind.
“Then I won’t force you. Dr. Tang, you’ve done me a great favor. As long as it doesn’t violate my principles, I can promise you one favor. Come find me when you need it.”
“Alright,” Tang Woxue said, staring at her calm face, not sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
Surrounded by her entourage, Jing Pei left. Once inside the car, she looked out the window and saw Tang Woxue still standing there, watching her leave.
Pleasure doing business with you, my friend.
But there were more pressing matters to attend to. Jing Pei unlocked her phone. There were no new text messages, which meant Chu Xusheng hadn’t failed.
Boom! Two bodies crashed heavily into the ground with an explosive roar, kicking up a dense cloud of dust.
As the wind cleared away the smoke, the mercenary couple lay motionless on the shattered ground, barely conscious. Their limbs were bent at unnatural angles, and blood covered their faces and chests, showing just how much force had struck them.
Isaac strained to keep his consciousness from fading. Behind his cracked lenses, his green eyes struggled to focus on the unscathed dark figure standing in the distance. “Monster…”
They had always known Qiu Fa was strong, standing at the absolute pinnacle of Atavists worldwide. But the terror of having the thing you cherished most held in his hands—knowing he could crush it with a gentle squeeze at any moment—was something one could never really grasp without experiencing it firsthand.
They had fled with everything they had, intentionally slipping into bustling commercial districts to tie his hands. Since he was a law enforcement officer, he had to consider the safety of innocent bystanders, which should have given them a window of opportunity.
They had darted through malls and bars, constantly shifting their physical forms between children, teenagers, and adults. Even if he possessed the nose of a hound and eyes as sharp as blades, they should have shaken him off.
Yet he was like a phantom, relentlessly appearing behind them again and again. It was bone-chilling. He loved hiding in the shadows, silently peering at them like a cat with only half his face visible, nearly scaring them out of their wits.
They had every reason to suspect this was a form of psychological torture! It was incredibly underhanded!
Before they knew it, they had been herded out of the busy streets and into this deserted, empty development zone.
“Enough time wasted.” Qiu Fa tugged at his leather gloves. His handsome, cold face remained expressionless as he walked over, intending to drag the two back to the Tribunal Division.
Just then, his phone buzzed. Still walking, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen, noticing a message from an unfamiliar number.
[Director Qiu, it’s been a while. You look so heroic catching criminals. I’d love to do business with you—are you sure you don’t want to buy some information?]
The smug, mocking voice from before immediately flashed through Qiu Fa’s mind. His expression darkened as he searched the area.
Was that damn information broker nearby?
He hadn’t interacted with the broker in a while, but his suspicion and distrust had never waned—especially since the broker kept peddling information to that little dragon.
Even if she was the one initiating the deals, Qiu Fa was convinced the broker had enticed her. His gut told him this guy wasn’t selling information just for the money; there had to be some ulterior motive. He was using these transactions as a front to manipulate his clients.
That little dragon was the type to risk everything for her friends and justice, and there was no guarantee she wouldn’t get herself killed one day because of it. The mere thought of that possibility made him loathe the broker—who preyed on good people—even more.
As for Jing Pei, who ignored his warnings and kept dealing with the broker anyway? Well, she was still young; wasn’t it normal for a kid to be a little rebellious and ignore adults? In any case, it was entirely the broker’s fault.
His gaze stopped on a figure in the distance. The man stood with one hand casually tucked into his pocket and waved as if greeting an old friend. Then he started showing off, flexing his arms before striking a classic bodybuilder pose. He looked completely fearless, knowing full well that Qiu Fa was too busy to chase him.
Qiu Fa tilted his head slightly, his grip tightening around his enforcement baton.
Is this guy mocking me?
Qiu Fa glanced at the mercenary couple, who couldn’t move at all, and called over the nearby Tribunal Division officers to keep watch over them. He would catch the information broker himself.
Soon, a figure descended from the sky, while another leaped down from a high-rise. Two officers in Tribunal Division uniforms landed and saluted in unison. “Director!”
Sensing that Qiu Fa was coming for him, the “broker” quickly scrambled down the pile of debris and vanished from sight.
“Take them in!” Qiu Fa commanded.
With that, he bolted after the broker. Since both criminals had been beaten to a pulp and posed no threat, there was no need for the Director to transport them personally.
As soon as Qiu Fa disappeared, the two officers rushed over to the unconscious mercenaries. But when they bent down to grab them, it was like grasping at a reflection in water—their hands passed straight through empty air.
“What?”
The two figures vanished like mirages right before their eyes. Only the cracked ground, the splatters of blood, the scars of battle, and the residual warmth on the stones remained to prove they had ever been there.
It took Qiu Fa less than three seconds to tackle the information broker.
“Agh!” The man shrieked as he was kicked to the ground, his face slammed into the dirt.
Almost instantly, Qiu Fa’s expression shifted. He grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him back.
He found the two officers standing frozen, but the mercenaries were gone.
“D-Director…”
The officers looked ready to cry. The criminals had definitely been there while Qiu Fa was present. A cheap trick like that could never have fooled him. Yet the moment he left, they vanished.
The blame now fell completely on the officers. They had let an easy catch slip right through their fingers. As far as they were concerned, they deserved the worst punishment possible.
“Who are you?” Qiu Fa demanded, looking down at the youth he was holding, who was trembling like a leaf in pain and terror.
“I-I don’t know anything! Someone paid me to stand there and wave at you! I didn’t do anything else, please don’t arrest me, waah…”
The boy was clearly just an ordinary street punk, now weeping and sniffling in pure terror. The person who hired him had claimed it was a police sting and that nothing bad would happen if he got caught, so he had taken the job. But this man before him was terrifying—was he really not going to kill him?
There was no point in questioning him further. The mastermind would never have shown their true face to a decoy like this.
Qiu Fa nearly crushed the phone in his hand.
Excellent. His feud with the information broker had just become even more personal. The boy had only been an innocent bystander, but there was no doubt that the real broker had sent the message.
Isaac raced through the night with Lolita in his arms, coughing up blood as he ran. He kept looking over his shoulder, terrified that Qiu Fa would suddenly appear behind him like a demon. The encounter had clearly left him traumatized.
Just moments ago, in the brief window after Qiu Fa left and before the two officers approached—an almost impossible opportunity—he had pushed past his limits. He gathered what remained of his strength, grabbed the shrunken Lolita, and fled. Even if the chance was slim, he had to try. Ending up in the Tribunal Division was a fate worse than death.
To his amazement, they actually succeeded. For some reason, the two officers had completely missed their escape and ran off in another direction, buying him precious time.
He didn’t dare slow down, clutching his lover tightly as they ran. Once the streets grew quiet, they slipped into a secluded hiding spot. Yet his heart remained in his throat, haunted by the sensation of being followed.
“This job was a complete disaster! Such a huge loss!” complained Lolita, who had been shrunk to the size of a seven-year-old by her lover. Once she woke up, she wouldn’t stop grumbling. “If the client doesn’t pay us double the remaining balance, I’m going to kill him! We were so close to taking the dragon horn, but he had to go and change his mind at the last second!”
“Leaving Hualan won’t be easy now, sweetheart,” Isaac murmured.
Lolita threw herself onto Isaac, burying her face in his shoulder as she wept. “I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die either, Isaac! Do something, please…”
“We need help,” Isaac said, his voice muffled under her tight embrace.
“Who could possibly help us now?” she sobbed. In a foreign country, none of their associates were reliable. Knowing they were wanted by Qiu Fa, no one would dare lift a finger.
“The information broker.”
Lolita’s crying stopped instantly.
The broker had expressed interest in recruiting them. Working for her was infinitely better than being captured by Qiu Fa. Besides, as mercenaries, they didn’t really care who they worked for as long as they got paid. At worst, they could treat the broker as a long-term employer and ditch her whenever the opportunity arose.
Under the crescent moon, a slender youth stood atop a roof. His eyes, shimmering like iridescent gems in the moonlight, were fixed on the window of the mercenaries’ hideout. Yet, to the world, he remained completely invisible.
Besides cramming his school subjects lately, he had also been working nonstop to improve his illusions.
First, he had hired someone to act as a decoy and draw Qiu Fa away. Then he created an illusion of the two mercenaries, fooling the officers, who had relaxed slightly because Qiu Fa was nearby. The illusion gave the mercenaries enough time to escape.
It was a dangerous gamble and the first time Isaac had ever tried something like it. Still, the fifteen-year-old relied on pure determination and patience. Like a disciplined sniper, he had remained completely still for hours, waiting for the brief chance he needed to act.
The previous night, while attending an online class for the Twelve Zodiac Academy, he had received the order from his family head. He didn’t know the purpose behind it, nor did he need to ask. It was his first assignment as a retainer, and the excitement had kept him awake all night.
Completing his master’s order filled him with a kind of happiness he had never felt before. It was warm and comforting, like eating the bread his sister used to bake for him.
While the outside world was chaotic, the Yuewan Mountain Range remained an isolated paradise. No matter how bustling the city became, the towering, snow-capped peaks stood as silent giants. Here, the breeze was gentle, the sky vast, and time drifted by at a leisurely pace.
Inside the cage beneath the warm night sky, Zhang Simiao was on a video call with Wen Yuxian.
Wen Yuxian made it a point to call her at least once after work every day, sharing every little detail of his job. His desire to share his life with her had never waned.
Hearing that Mei Yanlan had been injured so bad, Zhang Simiao widened her single eye, anxiety pouring from her like water. She only relaxed once she heard her friend was out of danger, but when the conversation shifted to Jing Pei being attacked at the hospital, her eye widened even further in panic.
“It’s not too bad. The morning attack was just a graze; the virus couldn’t penetrate her barrier. It would have been far worse if she had bled. The evening attack was also minor—the cut was from a blade, but there was no poison on it. It seems we’re dealing with two different groups. The morning assassin was likely from the organization, while the later one… probably wanted her dragon horns,” Wen Yuxian analyzed. Otherwise, it was hard to explain why her horn was targeted, considering losing a horn wouldn’t be fatal.
He recalled reading an ancient text—likely the Miscellaneous Records of Strange Scriptures—which mentioned that dragon horns could restore life and regrow flesh and bone. Could that be what they were after?
But why was Tang Woxue so badly hurt? If he had simply been caught up in it, how did he end up with such severe injuries? It was really puzzling.
Fortunately, Qiu Fa was already on the hunt. He would likely have answers by the time he went to work tomorrow. After all, no one had ever escaped him.
“Hey, I think I just heard something interesting.”
The voice sounded like a melody from somewhere outside Wen Yuxian’s view. A pale hand quickly snatched the phone from Zhang Simiao’s grasp.
Lou Ting’s ethereal, sacred face appeared on screen. His silver eyes locked onto Wen Yuxian, his tone carrying an ominous chill. “Long Jin… was attacked and injured?”
[We accept the job.]
When Jing Pei saw the reaction she had been waiting for, a smile appeared on her lips. Both Lolita and Isaac had abilities that could be extremely useful to her. Her carefully planned trap had worked. Tang Woxue and the mercenary couple were now firmly under her control.
I really am a genius.
Though she felt a tiny bit guilty about Qiu Fa. He was probably cursing the information broker’s entire lineage right about now. Poor guy—poor but adorable.
Amused, Jing Pei shook her head and popped open a can of tuna, happily digging in.
After finishing her work and having a late-night snack, Jing Pei lay down again. But she had slept all day, and now she couldn’t fall asleep.
A cool, clean scent suddenly filled the room. Someone appeared beside her bed and leaned closer.
This familiar sensation…
Jing Pei opened her eyes, met with the sight of silken silver hair draping over her pillow, framing a flawlessly sculpted face.
“It seems your wound was indeed minor; it has already healed.” Detecting no scent of blood, only a trace of fresh shampoo, Lou Ting stood straight. In the dim bedroom, he radiated a soft, divine white glow.
“Lou Ting.”
“That insect really is useless,” Lou Ting sneered. “Allowing his master to get hurt… What a waste of space. We should throw him under a bridge.”
Just how much do you hate Chu Xusheng? You never miss an opportunity to mock him. Aren’t you supposed to be the Judgment Angel representing fairness, justice, and selflessness?
“Tell me who did it,” Lou Ting demanded, looking ready to deliver a soul judgment on whoever dared touch her.
As if I’d tell you. Why would I let you burn the new employees I worked so hard to recruit?
“You snuck down from the heavens without permission again,” Jing Pei remarked.
A strange light gleamed in Lou Ting’s silver eyes. They looked pure and innocent, as if he knew nothing of the world, yet his words carried a different weight. “You really do know my secret. Since coming here, I’ve noticed that the scent of your soul is entirely different from everyone else in this family. By all rights, there should be some similarity. Tell me… what is your real name?”
Jing Pei: “…”
You really are a dog of an angel. Even a hound doesn’t have a nose as sharp as yours.
Fortunately, his Scales of Judgment had no effect on her, making him harmless. If it came down to pure physical combat, she was confident she could make this shut-in angel cry. Besides, he didn’t seem to harbor any ill intent anyway.
“Actually, I just ate a can of tuna. You’re probably smelling fish,” she deflected, even though the high-quality fish carried no such odor. “Go back. If you’re caught, do you have any idea what will happen?” she warned, her expression turning serious.
The only way Lou Ting could legally appear outside his prison without backlash was if he were summoned using a Judgment Feather. Roaming around of his own free will was forbidden, and such reckless actions risked exposing a terrifying secret.
Instead of showing concern, Lou Ting’s silver eyes filled with an arrogant, detached pride. “I am the favored child of God, the arbiter of this world, and its absolute center. When I am pleased, I play by their rules. When I am not, I don’t. What can they possibly do to me?”
Jing Pei: “…”
I have never met anyone so narcissistic in my entire life. What was worse was that he genuinely believed it. He really saw himself as God’s darling, the center of the universe, and the main character of this world.
“Even with your unique abilities, you are not invincible.”
“No, I am invincible,” Lou Ting countered with a smile. “Those who bask in God’s favor are absolute.”
Jing Pei: “…”
Lou Ting held up a bulging little pouch with his pale hand. “The maid said this is a get-well gift.”
“What is it?” Jing Pei took the pouch and opened it, revealing a small, fluffy, snow-white pillow.
“My feather pillow. It has built-in heating, self-cleaning, and defensive properties. Sleeping on it will at least protect your horns from being stolen,” Lou Ting explained solemnly, treating the preservation of her horns with utmost gravity.
The pillowcase had been stitched together in a flurry by the five-handed monster maid, who had even embroidered a large heart on it. Though her large frame made handling the tiny needle awkward, resulting in a somewhat crooked heart, it was filled with genuine affection.
Jing Pei unzipped the pillow and looked inside. Nestled within were downy feathers glowing with a faint white light—all tiny, delicate plumes shed during the angel’s childhood, before his wings matured enough to produce the razor-sharp blades he used in battle.
An image popped into her head of a young Lou Ting with fluffy wings, with little wobbles through the air as he tried to fly.
She usually doesn’t like beak-bearing creatures, but at this moment, she didn’t associate Lou Ting with birds at all. Instead, an unexpected warmth bloomed in her chest. Jing Pei’s stern face softened, and a small smile graced her lips.
“Thank you.”
Lou Ting leaned in closer, his expression a mix of curiosity and anticipation. “Now… will you tell me your name?”
More than finding out how she knew his secrets, he wanted to discover who she really was. Not “Long Jin,” but the true name of the person beneath that identity.
“Since you’re not leaving, do you want to play mahjong?” Jing Pei suggested with a sly smile, neither confirming nor denying anything as she smoothly changed the subject.
“Hmm? Is mahjong really more interesting than me?” The angel furrowed his brow, displeased.
“Then go back. I’m going to sleep.”
“Hmph. Fine, mahjong it is… What is mahjong anyway? Teach me.”
“…”
And so, Jing Pei and Lou Ting spent the entire night in her bedroom, playing mahjong online with strangers. It proved to be quite a challenge keeping Lou Ting at a distance and forcing him to keep quiet about his hand.
It was Lou Ting’s first time playing, sitting cross-legged right beside Jing Pei. Their shoulders brushed occasionally, and his nose was filled with her scent, constantly drawing his attention away from the game.
She’s so small. I could easily wrap her up in my wings.
He glanced at his partially grown Judgment Feathers and scowled. Had he known sooner, he would have plucked them the moment they grew, accumulating a lot stash. He had never imagined there would come a day when someone would exist whose summons he would looking forward to.
As dawn drew near, Jing Pei finally began to feel sleepy. She sent Lou Ting back to his sanctuary, warning him to leave without being seen, and managed to get a few hours of sleep.
When morning arrived, Tang Woxue checked out of the Atavist hospital, went to the Twelve Zodiac Academy to complete his resignation process, and boarded an airship bound for another prefecture.
Yan Jinhua had spoken with Tang Woxue the previous day, and the news of his return had kept her awake with excitement all night. Finally… was she finally going to get her hands on the heart she had coveted for so many years?
