Chapter 7: I Crave Fish Tonight

Violet Mist Valley Villa District.
Inside Villa Six.

A group of bodyguards exchanged bewildered glances as they stared at Guo Zikun, still unconscious on the bed. Confusion and uncertainty clouded their faces until Chen Qiang, the captain, finally broke the silence.

"Young Master Guo, we've arrived home. You can wake up now," Chen Qiang said respectfully.

Seeing Guo Zikun’s eyes tightly shut, Chen Qiang decided to give him a little jolt. "Young Master Guo, we all suffered collective amnesia earlier. None of us remember what happened."

Guo Zikun remained motionless, his complexion growing even paler than before. Chen Qiang became more convinced that his initial judgment was spot-on—Guo was feigning unconsciousness out of humiliation.

Just as Chen Qiang was about to drive everyone out of the villa, a bodyguard timidly ventured, "Brother Qiang, is it possible Young Master Guo was actually knocked out by someone?"

Chen Qiang’s expression changed instantly. There really was a chance, however slight. His unwavering belief that Guo was pretending had been shaped by the young man who'd publicly embarrassed Guo, leading him to a preconceived conclusion.

There’s no such thing as kindness without reason.
There’s no such thing as a free lunch.
What falls from the sky is seldom a pie, but more often a trap.

These three maxims flashed through Chen Qiang’s mind, leaving his face ashen.

"Hurry... hurry, get the young master to the hospital!"

Chen Qiang’s legs felt weak. If something happened to Guo Zikun, losing his job would be the least of his worries; he could very well end up feeding the fish in Binhai!

"I actually thought that bastard was a good person?" Chen Qiang slapped himself several times, cursing fiercely, "That scoundrel is just too treacherous!"

Guo Zikun was rushed to the hospital. After a thorough examination, the verdict was clear: he’d been struck at the cranial acupoint, causing unconsciousness. If left untreated, he risked becoming a vegetable. Fortunately, he had arrived just in time.

"That was close!"

Chen Qiang exhaled deeply, relieved that Guo’s life was spared.

But before he could fully catch his breath, a thunderous shout erupted from the VIP ward: "Chen Qiang, get your ass in here!"

Chen Qiang opened the door at lightning speed, then slid smoothly to the bedside, as if he'd perfected the move through countless repetitions.

For the next ten minutes, he endured Guo Zikun’s scolding, which generously included the curses of eighteen generations of ancestors.

"Young Master Guo, I know I was wrong," Chen Qiang said sincerely, then quickly shifted blame, "But you can’t blame me entirely. The enemy was just too cunning."

Guo Zikun redirected his rage, roaring, "Tell Old Xue, I want fish tonight."

"Yes, sir!"

Chen Qiang obeyed and left, a slight, satisfied smile curling his lips.

Old Xue was a professional assassin kept on retainer by the Guo family. Whenever Young Master Guo said he wanted fish, it meant a life was about to be claimed.

"He dared to set me up—he deserves it," Chen Qiang felt his pent-up anger finally dissipate.

Night fell, dark and thick as ink, with the moon shining bright.

The Lan family’s ancestral home.

Inside the bedroom.

Qin Chuan was standing on his head in an odd pose. If one looked closely, a faint white steam seemed to rise from his skin, his face flushed as if pressed against a hot iron. Sweat trickled from his scalp, vaporizing into white mist as soon as it touched his cheeks.

This nearly bizarre state lasted for half an hour before returning to normal. Qin Chuan switched to a regular sitting position and exhaled a turbid breath.

"This damn constitution is really troublesome!" A trace of helplessness flickered across Qin Chuan’s face.

The Body of Nine Suns was exceptionally rare. If left unchecked, it would burn out his organs. Not even a heavenly immortal could save him then.

"And all I did was use the Fuxi Divine Needle for a moment, and it’s already this bad," Qin Chuan muttered, a little disheartened.

When would he ever find a girl with the Mysterious Yin constitution? And would she be beautiful? Would her figure rival Lan Jin’s?

Wait—why was someone as pure as himself thinking about her chest?

Knock, knock, knock!

Just as Qin Chuan’s thoughts wandered, rhythmic knocking sounded outside.

He frowned. "Who is it?"

"Brother Qin Chuan, it’s me!" came a coy, seductive voice.

The door opened, and sure enough, Lan Jin stood there, her eyes sultry and inviting.

"Careful, woman, you’re playing with fire," Qin Chuan said, mimicking the tone of a domineering CEO.

Lan Jin met his gaze with stubborn defiance. "Lucky for you, I’ve got a fire extinguisher these days. Playing with fire won’t hurt."

Qin Chuan’s lips twitched. He knew exactly what Lan Jin meant by fire extinguisher.

"You’re still too young, woman," Qin Chuan smiled slyly. "You could become a traditional craftsman, or hone your skills in the ancient art of… oral technique. What do you think?"

Traditional craftsman? Ancient art? Seriously!

Lan Jin prided herself on being bold and fearless in matters between men and women, but now she felt outmatched, as if there was always a higher mountain.

"Brother Qin Chuan, has anyone ever told you that you’re shameless, lustful, and thick-skinned?" Lan Jin blinked her big, dazzling eyes at him.

Qin Chuan shook his head.

"Now someone has!"

"..."

Watching Lan Jin flee in panic, her slender willow waist swaying gracefully, Qin Chuan snorted playfully. "Trying to flirt with me? You’ll always be a junior at this game."

Just as he turned to go back inside, his gaze shifted to the outer wall of the courtyard, a faint smile curving his lips.

"Seems the wind never stops, even when the tree wants peace," Qin Chuan sneered, then strode out to the yard.

"Young Master Qin, do you need anything?" Uncle Fu’s voice came from behind.

Qin Chuan waved him off with a relaxed smile. "Nothing, just want to take a stroll and clear my mind."

"Shall I…"

"No need to send anyone with me. I’m a grown man—not afraid of being robbed for my looks," Qin Chuan declined Uncle Fu’s offer, heading straight out.

Uncle Fu didn’t worry. The ancestral home was peaceful at night, with plenty of Lan family security patrolling. Qin Chuan wouldn’t run into any danger.

Besides, from what Uncle Fu had seen, anyone capable of using the Needle of Fortune was no weak scholar.

Qin Chuan soon arrived in a patch of artificial forest near the Lan family estate. He deliberately walked toward the center, avoiding all patrolling security, and stopped.

"After hiding like a turtle for so long, why not show yourself?" Qin Chuan called loudly into the forest’s darkness.

Tap, tap, tap!

Soon, faint footsteps drew closer.

A middle-aged man dressed in tight black gear emerged, a gleaming dagger in hand, his gaze cold and murderous.

"Who are you?" Qin Chuan asked.

The man replied icily, "For a man about to die, you ask too many questions."

Before he finished speaking, the man vanished from sight, reappearing behind Qin Chuan the next second, the icy dagger thrusting straight for Qin Chuan’s back.