Inside the central government building, everyone stared at the massive screen, watching the final monster collapse. Yet, no one dared to breathe. They remained motionless for several minutes until they were completely certain that the creature was truly dead—that it wouldn’t suddenly spring back to life, and that no one would burst in to announce another unforeseen disaster—before a collective, shuddering gasp finally filled the room.
“At last!”
“Is it really over this time?!”
“How is General Wan?”
“Still in emergency surgery. Hopefully, he’ll pull through.”
General Wan was the very commander who had pressed the missile launch button. After Director Qiu signalled Madam President and she issued the override order, they discovered that General Wan had pressed the launch button without receiving any authorization from top leadership.
In other words, had Madam President hesitated for even a single second before canceling the sequence, General Wan would have unleashed those thousands of Atavist missiles into the sky.
When soldiers breached his office door, they found General Wan slumped on the floor, clutching his stomach, his face deathly pale. The arriving military medics quickly realized he had been poisoned and rushed him to the hospital, where he remained in critical condition. Why he pressed the launch switch and how he was poisoned would remain a mystery until he woke up.
“Bring our soldiers home,” Madam President said, the tension in her facial muscles relaxing slightly before her expression turned grave once more. “Everyone, get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, I will be holding calls with world leaders.”
“Understood!”
Serious looks spread across the room. Tonight’s fight was over, but the bigger war was just getting started. They finally understood the real reason behind the secret organization that had been hiding in the shadows for centuries. It was way crazier, more evil, and way scarier than they ever thought.
Because their research had succeeded.
Down by the shore, Qiu Fa, Mei Yanlan, and the others were covered in wounds from head to toe. The moment the ambulances pulled up, they collapsed onto the stretchers, too exhausted to move another inch.
The medics and nurses exerted every ounce of strength just to lift the stretchers into the vehicles.
Qiu Fa and Mei Yanlan were still standing, but when Mei Yanlan noticed the subtle, charged atmosphere between her Director and Jing Pei, her crimson eyes darted back and forth. With exaggerated drama, she promptly flopped onto a stretcher. “Quick, quick! I feel terrible! Carry me away!”
Her acting was terribly unconvincing. Qiu Fa and Jing Pei watched with speechless expressions as Mei Yanlan was hauled into the ambulance.
“Director Qiu?” A few young male nurses waited with a stretcher, looking at him uncertainly.
“I don’t need that,” Qiu Fa replied.
He turned toward Jing Pei, about to speak, but Jing Pei cut in first. “Get in. Go to the hospital.”
Qiu Fa froze, asking instinctively, “What about you?”
Looking into his eyes, Jing Pei felt a slight tremor in her chest.
Maybe Qiu Fa didn’t even realize it himself, but there was a fragile, aching hope in his eyes. He had gone through countless injuries and pain during the battle. In the brief moment when he thought he might die, his hidden feelings grew into full, open love. Like anyone facing the cold walls of a hospital, he quietly wished for the person he loved to stay by his side.
Perhaps this was the first time he had allowed himself to feel such a vulnerable desire since he was five years old.
Jing Pei really wanted to stay with him. But Qiu Fa was safe now. With the Poison Serpent-Lizard King dead and the missile attack stopped, the rebellious Plot no longer had the power to hurt him. Now, all that was left was protecting Min Yue.
Although Jing Pei believed her arrangements were airtight, she couldn’t rest easy without personally watching over her.
Just then, a sleek black sedan from the Long Family pulled up beside her.
She could only look at him and say softly, “I still have critical matters to handle.”
“Alright. Contact me if you need anything.” Qiu Fa didn’t press further, though the faint hope in his eyes dissolved into quiet disappointment. He turned and stepped into the ambulance.
A pang of sympathy touched Jing Pei’s heart, but she turned and boarded her vehicle. The luxury sedan and the ambulance drove side by side for a brief moment before parting ways at the intersection.
Inside the car, Jing Pei dialed Min Yue’s number. “Have you arrived at the Long Estate?”
“Mm-hmm! We’re here!”
“Good.”
“But Chu Xusheng hasn’t come back yet,” Min Yue added anxiously. “Will he be alright?”
“Don’t worry,” Jing Pei reassured her. “He’s plenty strong.”
“Aagh!”
Inside the Mirror World, Mirror God screamed in agony. She had attempted to ambush Chu Xusheng from behind, only for his scorpion tail to whip around, coil tightly around her throat, and slam her violently against the wall once more.
Blood smeared her face, her jade hairpin was gone, and her disheveled hair hung everywhere as she glared at Chu Xusheng with venomous disbelief. “How… how do you keep finding me?!”
Liu Qingqing’s ability made her the undisputed queen of assassinations. In modern society, reflective surfaces were everywhere—computer screens, smartphones, windows, water glasses, door locks, polished tiles, even kitchen cabinets. Her stealth was practically unassailable, making her the Organization’s most efficient assassin.
Her power had always been invincible. So why could Chu Xusheng pinpoint her hidden location every single time with terrifying precision?
Chu Xusheng’s dreamlike eyes fixed on her as he stated a cold fact. “If you were in the real world, catching you might have taken a bit of effort. But inside the Mirror World? That’s a completely different story.”
Liu Qingqing blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?” The Mirror World was her domain! Her power should be amplified tenfold here!
“Everything inside this Mirror World is ultimately just another form of illusion,” Chu Xusheng explained softly. “Did you forget? The King Insect race is the ancient ancestor of all illusions.”
Liu Qingqing froze, cold sweat instantly drenching her back. It suddenly clicked—this youth was the Long Family’s household retainer, the King Insect Atavist that every major family had fought to recruit! In ancient records, Insect illusion mastery was an unreachable pinnacle that no other species could match.
No wonder he said the real world and the mirror world were two different things! Shattering all the mirrors and sealing the exits had been her fatal mistake. Had she kept the portals open, Chu Xusheng might have left her realm to protect Min Yue!
Desperate, Liu Qingqing scrambled to her feet. A mirror materialized before her, and she lunged into it. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t beat him—she could trap him in here forever and starve him to death!
Yet, as she crossed the glass threshold, she didn’t emerge into the real world. She stared in horror as Chu Xusheng appeared right in front of her again. She whirled around to look at the mirror behind her. It stood firmly in midair, reflecting her and Chu Xusheng’s figures as if it were real. But if it were real, it should have been under her absolute control!
“This… this is your illusion?!” The malice in Liu Qingqing’s eyes dissolved into sheer terror. It was an illusion—and she had been completely fooled! Her vision, her sense of touch, even her cognitive awareness had been thoroughly duped!
Legend had it that during the Great Cosmic Convergence, humans under the rule of the Insect race lived inside nations constructed entirely out of illusions. Many lived their entire lives without ever realizing their world was fake, because the illusions were so realistic they deceived the human body itself—eating illusionary divine medicine could even miraculously heal real fatal illnesses.
Could those legends be true?! No, impossible!
In a panic, Liu Qingqing summoned another Atavist mirror and dove inside, only to tumble right back out at Chu Xusheng’s feet. Chu Xusheng’s scorpion tail whipped out, slamming her back into the wall.
She dove into another mirror, only for Chu Xusheng to beat her from the rooftop down to the street.
She dove in again, only to be kicked from the ground into the sky.
No matter how many times she fled through her mirrors, she could not escape the hyper-realistic illusion loop Chu Xusheng had woven around her perception and senses.
“Aaaaaaggh! Spare me! Please, spare me! Just leave, I beg you! I won’t do it again!!”
Beaten to a pulp and driven mad by the terror of no longer being able to distinguish reality from delusion, Liu Qingqing collapsed onto her knees before Chu Xusheng, sobbing hysterically for mercy.
If she could turn back time, she would rather die than invite Chu Xusheng into her realm. Being tortured inside her own domain with no escape and no hope of rescue was a nightmare beyond endurance.
“When the people you murdered begged for their lives, did you spare them?” Chu Xusheng remained utterly unmoved. Every member of this organization was a ruthless monster, especially those in the Squads of Ten Evils. This woman had clawed her way to captainship over a mountain of corpses.
She reminded him of Zhou Yongzi, making him feel physically nauseous.
“Aaaagh!”
A short while later, a blood-soaked, barely breathing Liu Qingqing was dumped directly outside the gates of the Tribunal Division. Learning that Jing Pei had already returned home, Chu Xusheng instantly wiped the cold ruthlessness from his face, put on his usual docile, adorable expression, and hurried back to the Long Estate.
Min Jing still had no idea what was happening, as no one had explained the situation to her. However, during the short drive from Nevergone District to the Long Estate late at night, their convoy had miraculously evaded nearly ten potential traffic collisions on the empty roads. Being a sensible woman and the district head of Nevergone, Min Jing decided to handle her official duties remotely online. Until Jing Pei declared it safe, she wouldn’t allow Min Yue to step a single foot outside the Long Estate.
From Min Jing and Min Yue to all their relatives and close friends, everyone was surprisingly sensible. Wherever Jing Pei told them to stay, they stayed without question. No matter who tried to persuade them to come out, it didn’t work at all.
Good days had only just begun—only a fool wouldn’t cherish their own life!
During this time, the rebellious Plot naturally refused to give up. It secretly manipulated several Long Family members with weak willpower, attempting to send them into the guest courtyard to commit murder.
“Who do you think you are to block me?! Careful or I’ll have you fired on the spot!”
“By order of the Family Head, no one is permitted inside.”
“I’m going in anyway! What are you going to do about it? Hit me? Go on, hit me right here!” The controlled Long Family relative slapped his own cheek arrogantly.
He got exactly what he asked for. The guarding Atavist security guard delivered a stinging slap that sent him spinning. Shaking off the mental control, the relative’s face flushed green and white, and he scrambled away in disgrace.
Other servants tried to sneak in pretending to deliver tea and snacks, but they were turned away just the same.
The moment Jing Pei stepped back into the estate, these pathetic, futile struggles from the Plot ceased entirely.
Jing Pei checked her watch and calculated the time. There was no need to wait until the very end of January 18th. In the original novel, Qiu Fa’s death had occurred around 11:00 PM on January 18th. With a bit of time remaining before the deadline, she could still make it to celebrate his birthday.
