Jiang Qing was rushing toward the Long Family estate. Just as his destination came into view, the taxi pulled over abruptly at the curb.
He glanced out the window, then looked up at the driver.
The driver turned around. His face was plain, but his eyes looked like they had been taken from someone else and forced into his skull—cold, mismatched, and unsettling.
Jiang Qing’s pupils shrank. Pain slammed into his brain; he doubled over, clutching his head as veins bulged across his forehead and cold sweat broke out in seconds.
“Mr. Fei… stop…”
“Glad to see you still recognize me, Young Master. And nice to know you haven’t forgotten the lessons our organization taught you.” The driver spoke smoothly. “I thought you were enjoying life with the Wu family so much that you stopped caring whether our grand cause succeeded or failed.”
“How… how could I?” Jiang Qing gritted his teeth through the searing agony. “Mr. Fei, you know better than anyone what I sacrificed to claw my way to Young Master.”
The driver’s gaze softened slightly. “Fair enough.”
As the pain ebbed, Jiang Qing gasped for air and straightened up. “Why show up so suddenly, Mr. Fei?”
“To bring you back. One of our high-ranking officials was captured. Your identity won’t stay hidden for long. We’ve reached the final stage—as Young Master, you need to take charge.”
Surprise flickered across Jiang Qing’s face. “Who got caught?”
“Wang Fang.”
“Who took him?”
“The Wu family, as it happens.”
“Wang Fang doesn’t know much. He hasn’t seen me since I turned twelve. Even if the Tribunal Division extracts his memories, they’ll have to send the images out to every Atavist family in Hualan for identification. That buys us time.”
After all, those Atavist families were full of arrogant snobs who ignored anyone beneath them, along with constantly shifting domestic staff. Who among them could spot a boy’s face from years ago?
Mr. Fei eyed him with quiet curiosity. “What are you planning?”
Jiang Qing said, “They’ve locked up our people and ruined our operations. Since I’m stepping back onto the stage, I should leave the Wu family a parting gift.”
“A parting gift? Sounds fitting. They did host you for years, after all. I’ll look forward to it. First, I’ll drive you back to the Wu Estate.”
Jiang Qing nodded.
While speaking with “the driver,” he slid his phone out and typed a message to Jing Pei:
[I can hand over whatever you want. Just fix the situation I’m in right now.]
A quick reply came back: [?]
Jiang Qing bit his lip, swallowing his pride, and typed: [I’m begging you.]
Her response followed immediately: [Good. Be at this location at two in the morning.]
Jiang Qing memorized the address, wiped the chat history, and tucked his phone away. A faint wave of relief settled in his chest. If that information broker dared to force his hand like this, she had to have an exit strategy ready for him—even if he couldn’t imagine how she planned to pull it off.
Still, he had to take the gamble.
“I can’t fix this one,” Jing Pei said, spreading her hands in front of Chu Xusheng. “Things have gone too far. His cover is bound to blow.”
Chu Xusheng froze. They had been back at the Long Estate for less than two hours when the Tribunal Division showed a childhood photo of the organization’s Young Master. Since he already knew Jiang Qing’s secret, the resemblance was obvious—especially those distinctive phoenix eyes.
Now every Atavist family had gotten the sketch. He had thought his status would solve the crisis without any trouble. Yet she was throwing in the towel?
Wait—she was the one who tipped Wu Ying off about the high-ranking official in the first place. Was her goal never to recruit Jiang Qing, but to destroy him?
Jing Pei took his phone and looked over the drawing. Without any context, it would be almost impossible for an outsider to connect that cold, eerie child with the polished young man Jiang Qing had become. The boy in the sketch looked haunting, like something out of a nightmare. The Jiang Qing of today wore wire-rimmed glasses and had the calm, refined look of a scholar.
Still, someone in the Wu household was bound to recognize him.
The organization’s original hideout from her story had been abandoned due to the derailed plot. She knew where some of their new safehouses were, but not all. Wang Fang, however, was a target she could exploit.
“Then… then…” Chu Xusheng rubbed his forehead, frustrated at his inability to keep up with her line of thought. He clearly needed to read more books.
“If I don’t back him into a corner, how else will he return to the organization?” Jing Pei leaned into her chair, taking a slow sip of tea. She glanced at the clear sky outside, a subtle, sharp smile playing on her lips. “I need him. My enemy needs him too. The only question left is who gets him in the end.”
The sky stretched wide and silent, but Jing Pei knew the Plot’s eyes were fixed on her.
The conflict had reached its endgame. Both sides knew the stakes and each other’s moves. With one side constantly watching, there was no point in subtle tricks—they were playing with open cards.
In her original story, Jiang Qing was built to be the final villain. He was the only person who possessed every single shutdown code for the dimensional machines. Jing Pei didn’t even know those codes herself. First, no author invents dozens of complex passcodes for fun; second, even if she had written them down back then, the rebellious Plot would have rewritten them by now.
So she needed him. He had to go back to the organization. Otherwise, the secret hidden inside him would never surface, and the codes would remain lost.
Likewise, the Plot needed him back. It required Jiang Qing to lead the organization against Jing Pei to balance the scales; otherwise, world governments would wipe out the organization before Jiang Qing made his choice.
Whether Jiang Qing wanted it or not, his return to the organization was set in stone.
“The enemy wants him back too? Doesn’t that just hand him a favor?” Chu Xusheng asked. He knew they faced a hidden adversary—not just the organization, but the entity orchestrating everything behind the scenes. He often wondered what kind of terrifying force could drive his head to calculate every step so carefully.
Jing Pei nodded, letting out a soft laugh. “I’ll let it have this small win.”
Jiang Qing stepped out of the taxi, bade Mr. Fei farewell, and boarded a small wooden boat at the Wu family pier.
The boat glided across the lake, the cool breeze stirring gentle ripples over the green water.
Then his phone chimed. The notification shattered his fleeting calm.
It was a message from Master Wu in the family group chat:
[@Everyone. The Tribunal Division sent over a portrait of the organization’s Young Master. Take a look and check if anyone like this is hiding on our grounds.]
[Image attached]
Jiang Qing stared at the screen. The face was both familiar and distant. It was himself.
Group members began chiming in quickly:
[In our home? Impossible. We vet every employee down three generations. An orphan couldn’t even pass our background checks.]
[The Wu family’s security standards put other families to shame. There are no traitors here.]
[Doesn’t look familiar to me.]
[He looks vicious. You wouldn’t forget eyes like that, so I’m sure I’ve never seen him.]
[No idea who that is.]
Since non-Atavists in great families were usually hired servants, maids, gardeners, or cooks, everyone automatically assumed the infiltrator was among the staff.
For now, nobody suspected him. Yet Jiang Qing’s shoulders remained tense. He knew one person who would recognize the face instantly.
When the boat touched the pier, he saw his mother, Jiang Yu, standing by the water.
Jiang Yu’s face was pale, her hands slick with sweat as she gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.
As Jiang Qing stepped ashore, the glare on his glasses hid his eyes. She suddenly remembered the day he first brought those glasses home years ago.
“Why the glasses?” she had asked in surprise.
“Just a little nearsighted. I need them to read,” he said.
From that day on, those frames became a mask. He grew distant, transforming into a stranger. She had assumed the loss of his father had hardened him.
But what had she just seen in the group chat? The Young Master of the organization? That vile syndicate that injected mutagens into innocent civilians, created hideous monsters, poisoned small nations, and drained entire populations for profit? The entire world hunted them like dogs.
Though the boy in the sketch carried a chilling, ruthless aura she had never seen before, she knew her own child. That was her son, Jiang Qing!
How could this be?
Yet a dark whisper echoed in her mind.
Was it really impossible?
Doubts she had buried for years surged to the surface, refusing to be ignored any longer.
“Mom,” Jiang Qing said, stepping off the boat. “Waiting for me?”
“Yes. Let’s walk.”
Her voice sounded strained. Jiang Qing studied her for two seconds before nodding.
Walking side by side along the path, Jiang Yu clutched her phone. “There’s something I’ve wondered about for years. I tried not to think about it. I was too afraid to ask.”
“What is it?”
“That night, nine years ago… what was in the drink you gave me?” Her voice trembled. The answer forming in her mind made her skin crawl, a cold knot tightening in her stomach.
Jiang Qing stayed silent for a heartbeat. Then he looked at her with detached eyes. “Why bring up old stories now, Mom? Didn’t everything turn out exactly the way you wanted?”
It was as good as a confession.
Jiang Yu’s face drained of color. “Was it all planned? Even me getting that job?”
“Isn’t that what you wished for?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I am your mother!”
Nine years ago, when Wu Ying’s mother fell ill, the Wu family posted an opening for a private nurse. Jiang Yu had seen the listing. The pay was incredible, but the thought of working for an Atavist family terrified her, so she never applied.
Yet shortly after, she received an unexpected call from the Wu Estate.
“Hello, Ms. Jiang Yu. You passed the preliminary screening. Please come in for an interview.”
“What? I never…”
“Make sure you don’t wear any perfume on the day.” The caller hung up without another word.
She had been baffled. At the time, Jiang Qing needed money for school fees, and her savings were empty. Desperate, she attended the interview, assuming someone had made a clerical mistake. She didn’t dare mention she hadn’t submitted the initial form.
Despite her nervous answers, she got the job. She remembered the strange looks exchanged by the hiring staff, though she hadn’t questioned it back then.
“Is this the one from above?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
Now the truth hit her like a blow. Those staff members were moles planted by the organization. Her entry into the Wu household had been orchestrated from the start.
Master Wu’s late wife, Xu Qingshuang, was a gentle, beautiful woman. Knowing Jiang Yu was a widow raising a ten-year-old boy, she let them live on Lake Island in a comfortable apartment. It was easy to see why Master Wu adored his wife. Jiang Yu herself felt deep sympathy for the dying woman and cared for her attentively.
Sadly, Xu Qingshuang passed away within a year.
With her job gone, Jiang Yu left the estate with her son. Life improved thanks to her savings. Then, a year later, Jiang Qing called her one evening.
“Mom, I think I see Mr. Wu. He looks like he needs help.”
He was only twelve then. She rushed over immediately.
She found Master Wu drunk in a bar, talking to himself and grieving his late wife while leaving his young daughter behind.
Feeling sympathy, she listened as Jiang Qing suggested, “Mom, Mr. Wu came here so he wouldn’t upset Wu Ying. Should we help him to a hotel room?”
“You’re right. Help me hold him while we call a cab.”
With the driver’s help, they managed to get him into a hotel room. Sweat dripped down her neck, and she felt parched. Jiang Qing handed her a bottle. “Here, Mom, drink some water.”
Suspecting nothing, she drank.
In the lobby, Jiang Qing ran into some classmates and asked to join them. Pleased to see her quiet son making friends, she gave him some pocket money. After the driver left the hotel room, she found herself swept into a night of passion with Master Wu.
Out of honor and responsibility, Master Wu married her afterward. Yet rumors persisted for years—people assumed she had seduced him while nursing his dying wife.
Jiang Yu had swallowed the shame and insults in silence. Wu Ying’s willingness to accept her was her greatest comfort. She never imagined that the mastermind of her humiliation was her own son.
Her own child had put her in another man’s bed. Nausea surged in her throat.
Jiang Qing watched her, gently patting her back as if offering comfort. His voice remained cool and even. “Why play the victim now, Mom? Didn’t you admire Aunt Xu’s life? Didn’t you feel drawn to Mr. Wu’s devotion and strength while working there? Everything I did gave you what you secretly wanted. I simply fulfilled your wish while securing my own path. Two birds with one stone—what’s wrong with that?”
It had all been calculated. The drink contained a compound that made Master Wu hallucinate, seeing Jiang Yu as his late wife. Combined with Jiang Yu’s buried feelings, the spark caught fire instantly.
At twelve years old, Jiang Qing had stood in front of a security monitor, watching his mother and Master Wu with empty eyes. No disgust, no shame—as if observing two laboratory specimens.
On the phone, he had asked his contact: “How long does the sterilization drug last on women? Three months? Keep refining it. I want it permanent. She doesn’t need other children.”
Jiang Yu trembled with rage and horror. The young man standing beside her wasn’t the child she carried for nine months—he was a demon wearing her son’s skin.
“Mom, you’re the only person who can link that sketch to me,” Jiang Qing said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Are you going to turn me in? Even if it means I die? If I told you I wanted to leave the organization, start over, and live a quiet life with you, would you believe me?”
A taxi veered wildly across lanes on a quiet road, forcing oncoming cars to slam their brakes, triggering a chain collision.
The driver shook his head, disoriented. “What… how did I get here? Wasn’t I driving a fare to the Long Estate?”
He glanced back. The back seat was empty.
Miles away, Mr. Fei arrived at the organization’s sanctuary.
Wearing an eagle mask and a tailored grey suit, his silver hair neatly combed, he commanded immediate attention. Members bowed as he passed. “Mr. Fei!”
“Is Father offering new instructions?”
“Is the Young Master returning?”
Ever since the Young Master trials ended, Mr. Fei rarely appeared in public unless conveying orders from Father himself.
The Host hurried forward, flanked by two guards. “Mr. Fei! Please believe me, I never leaked the passcodes! Give me one more chance!”
He would rather face Mr. Fei’s judgment than fall into the Young Master’s hands.
Behind his mask, Mr. Fei’s voice was cold. “You let some crude thing trick you into sending Mirror God after a civilian in Nevergone District. You failed, exposed our real goal, and brought the world governments together against us. And now you want another chance?”
“It was divine will, Mr. Fei! That entity is on our side!” The Moderator insisted desperately. He didn’t care if they thought he was insane; it was his only lifeline.
Mr. Fei narrowed his eyes, convinced the man had lost his mind.
The Host pressed on. “Give me time! I’ll prove it to you! It concerns the Young Master!”
Mr. Fei paused. He had considered disposing of the Moderator, assuming the whispers were a trick by the information broker. Yet the mention of Jiang Qing caught his interest.
“The Young Master?”
“Yes! It said the Young Master wouldn’t truly return unless we pushed him. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?”
Mr. Fei stayed silent. He had already had doubts about Jiang Qing’s loyalty, since Jiang Qing had given so little useful information while inside the Wu family.
The Host grinned. “Give me one more chance. I will bring him back completely—body and soul!”
Jiang Qing walked into the Wu Estate main house alongside his pale, shaken mother. The living room was filled with guests.
Several young men surrounded Wu Ying, showering her with flattery. They were suitors from wealthy families, eager to win her favor now that she had returned. Wu Ying tapped on her phone, answering with visible annoyance, but none of them took the hint to leave.
Jiang Qing’s eyes darkened behind his glasses.
“Sister,” he called out, walking over.
Wu Ying looked up immediately. “Your legs aren’t broken, are they? Why walk like a snail?”
“Sorry. Minor traffic delay on the way back,” Jiang Qing replied softly. “Did you bring me a gift?”
Wu Ying grumbled, tossing a small velvet box at him. “Demanding souvenirs every time I travel. Aren’t you annoying?”
Yet she brought one every time. Jiang Qing caught the box, a subtle smile touching his lips.
The suitors glared at him, recognizing the quiet display of intimacy.
Jiang Yu headed upstairs, her mind reeling under the weight of the secret.
Inside her bedroom, she startled—Master Wu was sitting on the sofa.
“Why so pale? Are you sick?” he asked.
“I… I saw the sketch of the organization’s Young Master in the family chat. It shook me.”
It was the truth, so Master Wu suspected nothing.
“Don’t worry, the Tribunal Division will hunt him down soon,” Master Wu said, stroking his bearded chin. Then he smiled. “Say, don’t you think Ah Qing and Ying’er make a good pair? One handles business, the other manages Atavist affairs. Perfect fit.”
Jiang Yu froze. “Jiang Qing and Ying’er?”
“Haven’t you noticed? They’ve been seeing each other quietly. You don’t mind, do you? I have no issue with a stepson marrying my daughter.”
Jiang Yu stammered, “They’re still young… Isn’t it too early? There are so many fine young men out there.”
Master Wu frowned in surprise. “You don’t support your own son?”
“I’ve always thought of them as brother and sister. I can’t accept it.”
“Well, you’d better get used to the idea,” Master Wu laughed. He liked Jiang Qing—the boy was sharp, but he clearly cared for Wu Ying. A straightforward girl like his daughter needed a clever partner to look out for her.
Jiang Yu felt dizzy, the room spinning around her.
That evening, Wu Ying stepped out of the bathroom. Jiang Qing had already hung her clothes neatly in the walk-in closet. He had handled her personal needs since he was twelve, and she was used to his presence.
“If you’re done, go to bed. Why sit on my bed?” she asked.
Jiang Qing stood up, obedient as ever. “I showered before coming over. I’m clean.”
“Who asked if you were clean?” Her heart skipped a beat.
“You worked hard on your trip, Sister. I learned a new massage technique. Let me try it out on you?”
Wu Ying’s ears turned red. She knew what he was playing at, but his massages were always incredible.
“Fine. Do a good job,” she muttered, lying face down on the bed.
Jiang Qing spent the next few hours attending to her, applying just the right pressure until she drifted into a deep, relaxed sleep.
When he stood up to leave, she didn’t stir. For an Atavist of her tier, such deep sleep proved her complete trust in him.
Jiang Qing didn’t know why Jing Pei wanted to meet at that specific location, but he had no other choices left.
Meanwhile, in the servants’ quarters, the butler awoke in a cold sweat.
He had dreamed of the boy in the Tribunal Division’s sketch. In his dream, the child grew older, transforming into Jiang Qing!
It was ridiculous, yet a persistent voice echoed in his mind: It’s him. He’s the Young Master. Tell Master Wu.
He pulled up the sketch again. The resemblance was eerie, especially the eyes.
Unwilling to let the thought fester, he decided to inform Master Wu immediately.
In her room, Jiang Yu tossed and turned, haunted by visions of Jiang Qing’s cruelty.
The fear grew overwhelming. She stepped into the hallway to catch her breath.
She heard faint footsteps and saw a shadow turn down the stairs.
Late at night, who could be wandering?
She wanted to follow, but fear rooted her to the spot. If she discovered another secret, would he kill her?
He had manipulated her at twelve years old. Did he care for her as a mother at all?
And what about Wu Ying? Pure, straightforward Wu Ying—would she be used and discarded too?
Tears streamed down her face. She loved Wu Ying like her own daughter. She couldn’t watch her walk into a trap.
Steeling her resolve, Jiang Yu knocked on Master Wu’s door.
“What is it?” Master Wu opened the door, seeing her tear-streaked face.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Moments later, Master Wu stepped out into the courtyard with a grim expression, running into the hurried butler.
“Master Wu, I think…” The butler held up his phone.
“Quiet. Go back to sleep,” Master Wu interrupted, already guessing the topic, and hurried away.
Jing Pei checked the time—past 1:00 AM. Jiang Qing was likely on his way.
“Family Head, are we leaving?” Chu Xusheng asked nervously.
Jing Pei looked at him in amusement. “Leaving for where?”
“To meet Jiang Qing?”
“Oh, no,” Jing Pei smiled, taking a sip of tea. “I told him to go to that address. I never said I’d show up.”
