To avoid testing his own self-restraint, Qiu Fa offered to drive Jing Pei home.
“My driver is already waiting downstairs,” Jing Pei noted with a light tilt of her head.
Qiu Fa pulled a long trench coat from his wardrobe and handed it over. “Put this on.”
“Oh.” Jing Pei obediently slipped her arms into the sleeves and tied the belt around her waist. The upper fit remained loose and oversized, leaving a generous expanse of her collarbone exposed.
Frowning slightly, Qiu Fa rummaged through his drawers until he found a long woolen scarf. He wrapped it around her neck several times until only a pair of bright, sparkling eyes peeked out. Jing Pei blinked up at him, her dark eyes reflecting the dim lights before crescenting into a wicked, teasing curve that radiated pure charm.
Qiu Fa turned his head away, stepped into the hallway, and pressed the elevator button with a calm, blank look—though he quietly took a deep breath.
Jing Pei trailed behind him, chuckling softly. “Since I already have a driver, why insist on coming along? Don’t tell me you just want to delay saying goodbye for a few more minutes? What a coincidence—so do I.” Without waiting for his permission, she slipped her slender hand straight into his palm.
“What nonsensical assumptions are you making?” Qiu Fa muttered, looking off to the side, yet his fingers immediately tightened around hers, holding fast as if afraid she might slip away.
He held her hand all the way to the car and only let go when they got close, probably because he thought PDA would look awkward in front of her driver.
Once inside, Qiu Fa sat up straight, his tall frame exuding the calm, formidable aura of the Tribunal Division’s Director.
Yet a second later, a soft, supple body leaned against him, her cheek resting against his chest.
Qiu Fa stiffened instantly.
“Hold me,” Jing Pei murmured.
Qiu Fa cast a quick glance at the driver, who was staring rigidly at the road ahead, not daring to glance at the rearview mirror. “We are in public,” Qiu Fa whispered. “Don’t do this.”
“Haven’t you ever dated anyone before?” Jing Pei teased shamelessly. “When a couple shares a ride, the boyfriend is supposed to put his arm around his girlfriend and offer his chest as a pillow.”
“Is that how it works?” Qiu Fa wondered, since romance was new to him. He took a nervous glance at the driver, then lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders, trying to be as gentle as he could.
Having achieved her goal, Jing Pei smiled quietly against his chest. The firm muscle beneath her cheek felt pleasantly warm, and she couldn’t resist resting her palm over his torso.
Through his shirt, intense heat radiated into her skin. With her ear pressed so close, she could hear the rapid, heavy thudding of his heart, sending faint vibrations straight to her soul. The steady rhythm filled her with pure joy and comfort.
Qiu Fa had changed into fresh clothes before leaving his apartment, yet sweat was already breaking out across his forehead. He remained as rigid as a stone statue, holding her like a fragile treasure he feared might break at the slightest movement. Only after several seconds did his brain process her earlier words—boyfriend? Girlfriend?
When he lowered his gaze, he discovered that Jing Pei had already drifted off to sleep against his chest. In slumber, the sharp, playful malice in her eyes gave way to a gentle, quiet innocence, making her look like a curled-up kitten.
A surge of deep tenderness flooded his chest, melting away his remaining tension. Qiu Fa relaxed his posture, gently wrapping his arms tighter around her while his fingers softly brushed through her dark hair.
The interior of the car fell into a soothing silence.
Time seemed to accelerate, and in what felt like mere moments, the half-hour drive came to an end.
Qiu Fa waved his hand subtly at the driver, who understood immediately and quietly stepped out of the vehicle. The faint click of the door closing woke Jing Pei. She opened her eyes, let out a soft yawn, and murmured, “Are we here? Time for me to sleep, then.”
Without warning, she leaned up, planted a sweet kiss on his jawline, and turned to step out.
Qiu Fa scrambled out after her, standing beneath the ancient, grand eaves of the Long Estate as he watched her climb the porch steps. “Are you free the day after tomorrow?”
Jing Pei paused, turning back with a smile. “I believe I am.”
“Then please save that entire day for me.”
“Since you asked so nicely, alright,” she said with a smile.
Qiu Fa watched her walk safely inside before turning back to the vehicle. The driver had already headed to the staff quarters, leaving the car behind for Long Family staff to return the next morning.
Driving back on his own, Qiu Fa felt an uncontrollable wave of joy. He switched on the car audio, letting lively music fill the cabin.
In that small, intimate apartment earlier, they had shared intense kisses and warm embraces, letting their buried emotions overflow. Yet, one crucial detail remained unspoken—a formal confirmation of their relationship.
While Jing Pei treated their unspoken understanding as official, Qiu Fa refused to leave things ambiguous. He wanted a clear, definite commitment.
So, two days from now, he planned to confess his feelings and ask her to be his partner. Not in a cramped apartment on a rainy, chaotic night while wearing lounge clothes, but in a properly prepared place, dressed his best to show how much he respected and loved her.
Meanwhile, Jing Pei strolled back to her private courtyard with light, breezy steps, humming a nonsensical tune with a bright smile. She had already guessed his intentions.
Director Qiu really is a traditional gentleman. Anyone else would consider their earlier intimacy as an implicit agreement to date, yet he insisted on a formal gesture. How utterly charming.
However…
That rebellious Plot would probably make its move within the next two days. Time was running out; if it didn’t act now, global authorities would soon team up to search the world and root out the Organization’s members.
Jing Pei glanced at her phone, spotting a text message sent by Wu Ying a short while ago. Her smile deepened into something far more dangerous—exuding the quiet, lethal beauty of a venomous butterfly.
Meanwhile, in a dense woodland miles away, a sudden explosion of dust tore through the night air.
Master Wu landed heavily, standing firm as dozens of men lay groaning around him, unable to move a finger. As the dust cleared, the primary target was nowhere to be found.
“Tsk, he actually managed to run,” Master Wu muttered, picking at his ear with a rough, unconcerned look. “I told him not to run, but he wouldn’t listen. Now he’ll have to pay for it.”
Before long, a tall figure emerged from the shadows of the forest. It was Wu Ying.
She was dragging the target by one foot. His face was a mess—half his teeth were gone, and his head was swollen like he’d been stung by a swarm of bees. He hung limp, gasping for air.
Master Wu drew in a sharp breath when he saw the prisoner’s condition. “You didn’t kill him, did you? He’s just an ordinary human—why did you hit him so hard?”
“He’s alive,” Wu Ying replied with a crisp chin lift. “Just a few broken bones and a sound thrashing.”
Master Wu flashed a thumb-up. “Impressive. But this guy is a heavy hitter in their network. We need to handle him with care so he doesn’t kick the bucket before we hand him over. Here, let me carry him.”
Grabbing the target’s ankle, Master Wu hoisted the man over his shoulder like a sack of laundry.
The target coughed up a mouthful of blood before passing out completely, his final thought being: Like father, like daughter!
Master Wu made a quick call to have the cleanup team secure the remaining men before walking back alongside his daughter. “How did you know they were hiding here?”
The location was secluded and had already been searched once without finding a trace. He hadn’t expected Wu Ying to insist on a late-night second sweep, leading them straight into an ambush of Organization operatives.
“Ah Jin gave me the tip—likely passed down from that Information Broker,” Wu Ying answered. She had originally planned to rush back to Yunjin Prefecture upon hearing that Jing Pei was targeted by monsters and spatial rifts, but an unexpected phone call from Jing Pei provided this precise intel instead.
Master Wu nodded thoughtfully. “That Long Jin girl is deep beyond measure. You should learn a thing or two from her. You can’t keep a single secret, and it worries your old man.”
“What?” Wu Ying frowned, looking defensive. “What secrets can’t I keep? Name one thing you’ve seen through!”
“You and that Jiang Qing brat are secretly dating.”
Wu Ying choked. “Pfft—You…”
“Ha! What did I tell you? Your old man knows everything,” Master Wu chuckled. “Personally, I think you two—”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Crimson with embarrassment, Wu Ying raised her tortoise-shell weapon and began chasing her father down the trail.
“Can’t hit me! Haha!”
The following morning.
Jing Pei awoke feeling completely refreshed, her energy restored to a level where she felt ready to pummel ten rebellious Plots at once. The storm had cleared, leaving behind a crisp, azure sky and cool, invigorating air.
The mood across the Long Estate was equally radiant. The previous night’s car accidents, Jing Pei’s swift intervention, and the dispatch of emergency airships from the Long Family’s private medical network had elevated the clan’s public prestige to new heights. By early morning, their corporate stock had surged dramatically, signaling the return of the Long Family’s golden era.
“Up so early?” Long Yiming asked with a smile over breakfast. “Why not rest a bit longer?”
“No need,” Jing Pei replied smoothly.
Long Yiming nodded, rubbing his hands together. “After the Spring Festival, regarding the selection banquet… ahem, I mean our corporate anniversary celebration, we plan to invite various young suitors. Do you have any specific preferences regarding age, height, or background?”
He had already drafted a list of young executives and heirs from prominent families, intending to screen the best candidates for her.
Jing Pei stared at him with a look of utter disbelief.
“There’s no need,” she stated flatly. “I already have someone in mind.”
In Atavist high society, heirs of major families typically began formal matchmaking at eighteen to secure strong genetic lineage. Every elder at the dining table immediately perked up their ears, eyes wide with gossip.
“Which family’s young talent?” Long Yiming asked eagerly.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Jing Pei said.
If she revealed that the person was Qiu Fa, Long Yiming would likely clutch his chest and faint on the spot. While that scene might be amusing, Qiu Fa had yet to make his formal confession. Since he desired a proper ceremonial moment, she would wait until after his official declaration before introducing him to her clan.
Thinking of Qiu Fa brought a sweet warmth to her chest, and breakfast tasted even better.
Mid-meal, her phone chimed with a text message. Scanning the screen, her smile widened—though this new expression was far from sweet. It was dangerous and cold, reminiscent of a venomous butterfly fluttering its wings.
Meanwhile, Qiu Fa had risen at dawn.
He drove straight to a high-end shopping center to purchase a tailored suit, but arrived two hours before opening time. To pass the time, he patrolled the surrounding streets, successfully apprehending an entire battery-theft syndicate in the process.
When he handed the criminals over to the local precinct, both the police officers and the thieves looked utterly bewildered.
Once the mall opened, he bought a sharp new suit and picked out a nice gift. Wanting to plan the perfect evening, he looked online for good restaurants, but the choices quickly got overwhelming. In the end, he went to the Tribunal Division to ask An Yan and Mei Yanlan for advice—one a married man, the other a seasoned romantic.
“What is this for?” Mei Yanlan asked, her red eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Qiu Fa maintained an upright posture. “A confession.”
An Yan stared at his Director’s more handsome, deadpan face, nearly doubting his ears. “A… confession? As in a romantic declaration to a lady?”
“Yes.”
An Yan stood slack-jawed. “The mysterious lady you sent a gift to before?!”
Mei Yanlan’s lips curved into a sultry, delighted grin. “Well, you certainly asked the right person. Come here, let me teach you.”
As Mei Yanlan eagerly whispered tactical advice to Qiu Fa, An Yan wore a deeply tragic expression, feeling like a father watching his prized cabbage get carried off by a wild boar.
Just then, An Yan’s phone rang. His expression shifted instantly to severe professionalism. “Director, the Wu Family just landed a massive fish.”
Jing Pei arrived at the address specified in her text message, instructing Chu Xusheng to wait outside while she stepped indoors alone.
The venue was a quiet board-game tea house. Normally frequented by casual go players, today it held only a single patron.
The manager led Jing Pei into the central hall, where a young man sat before a wooden game board.
Behind his gold-rimmed glasses were a pair of sharp, classic phoenix eyes. Wearing a crisp white shirt and fitted black trousers, he gave off a polished, intelligent air, like a scholar from an old and respected family. He was studying a tricky endgame position on the board.
Jing Pei took a seat opposite him, smiling faintly. “Care for a match?”
“I don’t play the role of a chess piece,” Jiang Qing replied quietly, raising his eyes.
“Because the player on the board must bear the risk of losing, correct?”
Jiang Qing remained impassive. “Since we have crossed paths multiple times, let us speak plainly. Originally, the only players on this board were the Government and the Organization. But your unexpected emergence disrupted the entire game, plunging everything into chaos. Now that we are approaching the final phase, tell me—what are your bargaining chips?”
Jing Pei tilted her head, inspecting his clear, calm eyes before picking up a white stone to toy with. “Why should I tell you?”
“I need to conduct a risk assessment to determine the probability of your ultimate victory.”
“You seem remarkably confident that I require your assistance.”
“Do you not?” Jiang Qing asked, taking a sip from his glass of green tea. “Both times you obtained the override codes to close the spatial rifts, those numbers came directly from me. Every membrane-breaking machine deployed across this world opens a rift, and each machine possesses an independent, highly complex passcode known only to two or three key individuals. You clearly lack direct access to that intelligence.”
“And if I refuse to share my chips, what will you do?”
“I will continue to observe from the sidelines,” Jiang Qing stated coldly. “Your war has nothing to do with me. But do not expect another passcode from my end, and you will erase all knowledge of my identity.”
In short, unless Jing Pei proved she held a decisive advantage, he would remain neutral, indifferent to the fate of the world.
“Setting my side aside,” Jing Pei countered smoothly, “do you truly believe you can withdraw cleanly from the Organization without providing them meaningful aid?”
“I have my own methods.”
“And what about Wu Ying? She cannot stay out of this conflict.”
“I have my ways to protect her.”
Jing Pei stared at him before breaking into an elegant, albeit mocking laugh.
Jiang Qing frowned. “What are you laughing at?”
“I’m laughing at how delusional you are. You won’t be a player or a pawn. You just want to watch from the sidelines and back whoever wins, taking zero risks while millions die around you. The truth is, you’re just a selfish hypocrite who still dreams of standing next to a hero like Wu Ying. Do you think the world works like that?”
“It seems you don’t mind if your identity as the Information Broker is exposed to the public,” Jiang Qing replied without a flinch. He took another slow sip of tea, his tone remaining polite, yet a sharp, silent threat descended upon the room.
Jing Pei paused, meeting his gaze.
Noticing her silence, the corner of Jiang Qing’s lips quirked slightly. She isn’t the only one capable of extortion. Compared to his secrets, she had far more to lose if her global identity as the Information Broker was leaked.
Jiang Qing nudged the board slightly toward her. “If you are unwilling to lay out your hand and sincerely invite me to your side, then play your game and try to win. We keep our mouths shut, and everyone gets what they want.”
Meanwhile, at the Tribunal Division interrogation facility.
The high-ranking Organization operative captured by Master Wu and Wu Ying sat bound in a steel chair. Despite his missing teeth and bruised face, his expression remained arrogant, spewing fanatic claims about the “true God’s arrival.”
His mental willpower was exceptionally high, blocking every memory-extraction Atavist from penetrating his mind.
“Save your breath,” the operative sneered. “You won’t extract a single piece of intel from me. When the Great Convergence arrives, I will be reborn!”
The door opened, and Qiu Fa stepped into the room.
The operative’s smug expression faltered slightly, his body instinctively pressing back against the chair before he forced himself to sit tall once more. “Qiu Fa! Do you think I fear you? Even if you flay me alive, I won’t speak!”
Qiu Fa ignored the rant. “I have important matters to attend to today. Let’s make this quick.”
Approaching the chair, Qiu Fa reached out—not to strike, but to slip a strange, living ring onto the operative’s finger.
The ring contracted smoothly around the skin, its flesh-like flower opening to reveal a tiny, wriggling tongue.
“Your name,” Qiu Fa commanded.
The operative sneered, attempting to remain silent.
The Ring of Truthful Tongues bellowed instantly: “Wang Fang!”
Wang Fang’s eyes widened in horror.
“Where are your accomplices located?”
Wang Fang clamped his jaws shut.
The ring declared loudly: “The current known bases are located in the basement of XXX Street, XXX City, XX Prefecture!”
Wang Fang frantically clawed at his hand, trying to rip the ring off, but it stayed stuck to his skin. Intel spilled out nonstop and was sent straight to field units across all prefectures.
Finally, Qiu Fa asked, “Who leads your Organization, and where are they hiding?”
The ring answered: “The Godfather never reveals himself. Only the Master sees him.”
“Who is the Master?”
“The instructor responsible for raising and educating the Young Heir. He acts as the Godfather’s confidant and second-in-command.”
Wang Fang began biting his own fingers in sheer desperation, drawing blood.
Qiu Fa noted the key detail. “The Young Heir is not at the main headquarters?”
The ring blurted: “No! He is currently hidden inside one of the Great Atavist Families, waiting to strike the final blow!”
The room fell dead silent.
“What?!” the observing officers gasped. “A traitor is hidden within one of the Great Families—and he is the Organization’s Young Heir?!”
Qiu Fa leaned in close. “What is his name?”
Wang Fang let out a bloodcurdling scream, using his teeth to tear off his own finger bone to dislodge the ring. He collapsed against the chair, panting with a triumphant, bloody grin.
Without a word, Qiu Fa signaled an officer to pick up the ring and force it onto another finger.
“NO! STOP IT!” Wang Fang shrieked as the ring locked into place once more.
Back at the tea house.
Jiang Qing maintained an unyielding stance, confident that Jing Pei needed his cooperation. He intended to secure full leverage before agreeing to any alliance.
“Extorting me?” Jing Pei smiled. “Your method of negotiation is remarkably arrogant.”
Jiang Qing offered a cool smile. “Compared to the owner of the Puzzle Intelligence Agency, my arrogance pales in comparison.”
“Fair enough,” Jing Pei agreed. She tossed her white chess piece aside, reached out, and casually flipped the entire heavy wooden chessboard upside down. Black and white stones clattered across the table and spilled onto the floor.
Jiang Qing stared at the mess. “Long Jin, does this mean we have nothing more to discuss?”
Jing Pei rose smoothly to her feet, looking down at him with supreme disdain. “You are far too rude. I suggest you correct your attitude and realize that allowing you to join my side is a privilege you should beg for. Come back when you are ready to offer your chips on your knees, Young Master Jiang.”
Jiang Qing’s face turned ash-grey. “What delusional fantasy are you spinning?!”
“I never speak in fantasies. As for my identity as the Information Broker—feel free to spread the word, provided you can produce concrete evidence. Farewell.”
Jiang Qing gripped his fists tightly, watching her walk away. She knows I have no physical proof!
Suddenly, his phone chimed. It was a text from Wu Ying: [Where did you run off to?]
The coldness in his eyes melted slightly. He dialed her number. “I was playing chess at a tea house. Are you back? I’ll return immediately.”
“Hah, we scored a massive catch,” Wu Ying boasted over the line. “We captured a high-ranking Organization leader who didn’t lose his memories. We can extract a mountain of intel from his brain.”
Jiang Qing’s blood ran cold.
A high-ranking leader without memory loss belonged to the inner circle. They knew what he looked like as a child. The moment his childhood portrait was circulated, his cover inside the Wu Family would shatter completely. Wu Ying would realize he was a cold-blooded monster…
Jing Pei’s parting words echoed sharply in his mind: 【I will wait for you to beg me.】
Jiang Qing’s face drained of color as cold sweat broke across his forehead. She had set a trap from the very beginning. He had no choice but to bow before her.
“To the Long Estate!” he ordered the taxi driver hoarsely. “Hurry!”
Inside her luxury vehicle, Jing Pei sat comfortably with her legs crossed.
Chu Xusheng asked softly, “Is he like Min Yue?”
“Jiang Qing and Min Yue are completely different,” Jing Pei mused, resting her chin on her hand. “To put it simply… Jiang Qing is an evil demon who occasionally forgets to wear a human mask.”
Chu Xusheng swallowed hard. “So we must crush his pride first!”
Jing Pei offered a enigmatic smile, remaining silent.
In the interrogation room.
Wang Fang went completely insane before the ring could speak his name, shrieking hysterically until his mind broke.
“He’s gone mad,” the ring said flatly. “His mental defenses are down.”
Qiu Fa stepped forward. “That saves us the trouble. Extract his memories directly.”
An Atavist specialist stepped in, drawing a misty orb of memory from Wang Fang’s temple. The mist expanded, projecting a shared memory space before everyone present.
They found themselves inside a dark, concrete facility. A man wearing an eagle mask stood before a row of young boys no older than ten.
“Your trial is simple,” the eagle-masked instructor declared. “You are baseline humans. Hidden inside this building are ten Atavist serial killers. Survive for twenty-four hours to pass.”
Terrified screams soon echoed through the monitors as killers hunted the children down. Some children begged, others betrayed their peers to buy time.
Only one boy stayed strangely calm—Subject Number 9.
Paired with two other boys, Number 9 went from room to room collecting newspapers, then studied the killers’ Atavist traits.
When a frog-type Atavist approached, Number 9 instructed his companions to stand perfectly still. “Frog Atavists only detect motion. Don’t move.”
Later, Number 9 located an Atavist firearm, loaded it calmly, and put a bullet straight through a killer’s forehead without a flinch.
He transformed from prey into a ruthless hunter, setting traps and executing Atavists one by one. When a frog Atavist ambushed him, he climbed onto the monster’s back and repeatedly stabbed its throat with a dagger until the head was severed—all while suffering multiple broken ribs.
Standing in a pool of blood with a severed head in hand, Number 9 looked directly into the security camera with a cold, terrifying smile that chilled the observers to the bone.
He was the sole survivor. Trial after trial, Number 9 rose through the ranks, discarding allies without hesitation until he became the Organization’s Young Heir.
The memory mist faded.
Qiu Fa ordered coldly, “Draw his portrait and send it to every Great Family. Let them identify him themselves.”
