In the southern mountainous region of Quancheng, nestled in the embrace of verdant hills, stood a secluded villa.
The villa's décor was both rustic and refined, exuding an understated elegance. A root-carved tea table, blue-and-white porcelain vases, and antique rosewood furniture adorned the space. Though sparsely furnished, these carefully chosen pieces imbued the villa with an air of classical charm. Within its tranquil confines, one could not help but feel a sense of serenity and peace.
Three men sat around the root-carved tea table. The first was tall and broad-shouldered, exuding an aura of dominance and power. The second, an elderly man of short stature, wore a long black robe, his pale face resembling that of a ghost. The third, seated slightly lower than the others, was a young man with delicate features and graceful manners—none other than Chen Yi's old acquaintance, Feng Kun.
They sipped on premium Da Hong Pao tea, its rich fragrance lingering in the air, while their eyes remained fixed on the television mounted on the wall.
The footage on the screen was grainy and silent, yet the men watched with rapt attention. Feng Kun, in particular, was utterly absorbed in the scene, his fists clenched tightly, his gaze intense.
The broadcast displayed a street in Quancheng, strewn with the wreckage of over a dozen cars. Not far away, a massive black fuel tanker lay overturned, its hulking frame dominating the chaotic scene. The aftermath was one of devastation—vehicles crushed, debris scattered, and emergency personnel, including police, medics, and firefighters, working frantically amidst the destruction. A crowd of onlookers had gathered, their murmurs filling the air.
It was the very site of the car accident Chen Yi had just experienced.
These men, it seemed, possessed the extraordinary ability to access surveillance footage, turning it into their own private "live broadcast."
Throughout the broadcast, Feng Kun's eyes remained fixed on Chen Yi and Han Wenxue.
When he saw Chen Yi being carried onto a stretcher, with Han Wenxue by his side, clutching his hand, Feng Kun's eyes turned bloodshot. His face contorted with rage, and he spat venomously, "That wretched woman!"
"Young Master Feng, calm yourself. Have some tea," the frail old man said, a faint sneer flickering across his face before he quickly masked it. He picked up the sea-blue crackle-glazed teapot from the table and poured Feng Kun a fresh cup of tea with deliberate leisure.
Feng Kun, realizing his outburst, hurriedly picked up the teacup and said courteously, "Thank you, Elder Ai. I lost my composure just now—please forgive me."
Elder Ai waved a hand dismissively as he finished pouring. "It's good for young men to have fire in their hearts," he said with a faint smile.
Before coming here, Feng Kun's father had repeatedly warned him to tread carefully and avoid offending these two men at all costs. The Feng family's future progress depended on their support. Despite his burning desire to confirm whether Chen Yi was dead or alive, Feng Kun hesitated, fearing he might overstep. Yet the gnawing anxiety in his heart was unbearable, like a cat clawing incessantly at his soul. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he finally asked, "Elder Ai, is Chen Yi dead?"
"No," came the reply, but it wasn't from Elder Ai. Instead, it was the young man seated beside him who answered. "A diviner who can glimpse the secrets of heaven doesn't die so easily."
Disappointment flashed across Feng Kun's face, though he quickly masked it with indifference. He couldn't help but harbor disdain for this young man.
The man's name was Ai Chu, the head of the overseas consortium they were dealing with. He was a reclusive figure, rarely seen in public, and his demeanor was cold and aloof, showing little regard even for Feng Kun.
They had meticulously orchestrated this "accident," waiting for Chen Yi and Han Wenxue to pass through that road. Yet, despite their efforts, the two had managed to escape. Feng Kun, already irked by Ai Chu's haughty attitude, felt his irritation deepen upon hearing him admit that Chen Yi had survived. Still, he dared not let his feelings show.
"Young Master Ai, does this mean our plan has failed?" Feng Kun asked, his tone laced with concern. More than anything, he had hoped for the immediate deaths of Chen Yi and Han Wenxue, preferably in a manner so gruesome that no trace of them remained.
"Failed? On the contrary, it was a resounding success," Ai Chu replied cryptically, taking a sip of tea and offering no further explanation.
Feng Kun, bewildered, pressed on, "But we went to such great lengths to set this trap, and neither of them died. How can you call that a success?"
"Hmph, what do you know?" Ai Chu scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain.
Feng Kun's temper flared, and he nearly hurled his tea at Ai Chu's face. But his father's warnings echoed in his mind, urging him to prioritize the bigger picture. Swallowing his anger, he forced himself to endure the humiliation.
"Young Master Feng, don't take offense," Elder Ai interjected with a chuckle, attempting to ease the tension. Yet his expression betrayed no genuine apology—only a sense of smug superiority, as if this dynamic was entirely natural. "That young man, Chen Yi, is no ordinary person. He nearly derailed our entire plan. Letting him die so easily would be far too lenient. And as for that girl, Han Wenxue, she is the key to our success. She must remain alive."
Though Feng Kun acknowledged the duo's formidable abilities, he still found their reasoning unconvincing. Was all this effort truly just to frighten two people?
"Elder Ai," Feng Kun ventured cautiously, "if you didn't want them dead, why go to such lengths to set this trap?"
Elder Ai gave him a peculiar look, as if questioning his intelligence. "Have you not dealt with Chen Yi before?"
Feng Kun's expression darkened. Not only had he dealt with Chen Yi, but he had been humiliated by him—repeatedly.
Seeing the hatred in Feng Kun's eyes, Elder Ai dropped his enigmatic pretense and explained, "If you've crossed paths with him, you should know that he leaves nothing to chance. Ordinary schemes won't fool him. So, we crafted this plan based on Han Wenxue's destined calamity, aiming to separate the two of them. Once they're apart, we can deal with each individually."
Feng Kun pondered this for a moment, then asked incredulously, "Does this mean even you hold some fear of Chen Yi?"
"Fear? Hardly," Elder Ai replied with a faint smile. "But the boy is... unusual. His divination skills are unnervingly precise. It's best to exercise caution."
"Once Chen Yi is captured, could you leave him to me?" Feng Kun asked, his voice laced with venom. "I have a score to settle with him, and I'd like to end it myself."
Elder Ai let out a sinister laugh, his gaunt face appearing even more menacing. "Why not? If you can locate Han Wenxue, it will be a great merit. Otherwise, who knows how much longer our plans will be delayed."
Relieved by this response, Feng Kun refrained from asking what they needed Han Wenxue for. Some things, he realized, were better left unknown.
"Young Master Feng, proceed as planned. Success is imperative," Elder Ai said. Though his voice was soft, it carried the weight of unyielding authority.
Feng Kun felt a chill run through him and quickly took his leave.
After Feng Kun departed, Ai Chu cast a disdainful glance at his retreating figure. "That fool stumbled upon Han Wenxue by sheer luck. If it weren't for the matter of the lost phone, I'd have made his life a living hell."
"Fate seems to favor us," Elder Ai remarked. "We may have lost the last Tigress Maiden, but we've found an even more yin-infused 'Tanzi.' What does the Young Master plan to do about Chen Yi?"
Ai Chu's lips curled into a faint smile. "His divination skills are unparalleled. If he can be made to serve me, all the better. If not, he must be eliminated to prevent future trouble."
As he spoke, the teacup in his hand shattered with a sharp crack, shards falling to the table. His face radiated an aura of cold, murderous intent.
"Ha-ha, with such decisive action, I can rest assured," Elder Ai said with a sinister grin. "Once the matter of the dragon vein here is resolved, the Young Master's achievements will surely earn the family head's admiration."
At Quancheng Provincial Hospital.
Han Wenxue's injuries had been treated and bandaged. They were superficial—nothing that would leave lasting damage.
"Xiaoxue, take a look at this. The password is 563742," her grandfather said, handing her Feng Kun's phone after a moment's hesitation.
Han Wenxue accepted the phone and glanced at him, choosing not to ask how he had obtained the password. Cracking it wasn't difficult if one knew the right people.
She entered the password and steadied herself before opening the multimedia folder. There, she found a video recorded on her birthday. Taking a deep breath, she pressed play.
The moment the video began, Han Wenxue's face turned ashen.
In the video, she appeared flushed and reclined on a bed, her body writhing as though overcome by unbearable heat. Soft, shameful moans escaped her lips.
"Ha-ha, Wenxue, you've finally fallen into my hands," came a familiar, lecherous voice—it was Feng Kun's.
His tone was laced with excitement and depravity.
"You always act so high and mighty, but look at you now. Let me tell you, there was something special in your drink—imported from India. They say even nuns would turn into harlots after drinking it!"
"Craving a man, aren't you? Take off your clothes. Do it yourself!"
To her horror, the video showed her following Feng Kun's commands, tearing off her clothes in desperation. She ripped them apart with such urgency that she didn't even bother with the buttons, exposing large swathes of her pale skin.
Han Wenxue trembled violently, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood.
As she cursed Feng Kun's shamelessness, fear gripped her heart. How had she escaped his clutches? And how had she ended up with Chen Yi afterward?
A loud crash interrupted the video. The camera wobbled, and suddenly, the face she had loathed for days appeared on the screen—Chen Yi's.
What followed was faithfully recorded by the phone's camera.
Feng Kun offered Chen Yi one million yuan to stay out of the matter, but Chen Yi refused and instead gave him a thorough beating.
The footage then showed Chen Yi carrying her to a hotel.
Though the video ended there, with only audio remaining, it confirmed everything Chen Yi had told her—he had saved her from Feng Kun.
"He didn't lie to me. He's been saving me all along, and yet I..."
A wave of self-loathing washed over her. How could she have been so blind, so foolish, as to seek revenge against her savior?
"Where is Chen Yi? I want to see him," Han Wenxue said urgently. She needed to apologize, to repent, to beg for his forgiveness.
"He's gone," her grandfather replied with a sigh before leaving the room to give her some space.
"Gone?"
Han Wenxue stared blankly into the distance.
He had left—just like that? Without even coming to see her once?
"Han Wenxue, listen to me carefully. This is the last time I'm helping you. From now on, we'll go our separate ways, with no ties between us."
Yes, he had made it clear in the car. They were to have nothing to do with each other from now on. He owed her nothing—why would he come to see her?
A hollow ache spread through Han Wenxue's chest as if her heart had stopped beating.