"Kun-kun~"
As Han Yuyao closed in step by step, the woman called Lili let tears pool in her eyes. She stumbled backward, collapsing onto the floor, retreating with trembling limbs. Her face was the picture of fragile beauty—pearls of rain on a pear blossom, pitiful and irresistible.
Lili turned pleading eyes toward Han Kun, silently begging for rescue. Seeing her like that tugged at him; despite himself, his heart softened.
"Sis…" Han Kun swallowed nervously. "Could there be some kind of misunderstanding here?"
Han Yuyao's expression promised a storm. He felt his courage waver, throat going dry. Still, for the sake of love, he forced the words out.
"Shut up!" she snapped before he could say more. Her glare pinned him in place, brimming with frustration. Han Kun shrank under the oppressive weight of her bloodline aura.
"Always wasting your time in shady places. You wouldn't even realize if someone sold you."
She turned her gaze back on Lili. Only two meters separated them now. The moment Yuyao stopped walking, her presence exploded like a storm front. Air currents stirred violently around her, her long hair lifting in an invisible wind. The temperature in the entire room plummeted toward freezing.
When she raised her hand, her skin paled, delicate flesh glazed with frost, gleaming like frozen jade.
Han Kun's face changed instantly. He recognized it.
The Han family's inherited martial art—Cold Jade Palm.
Though he had no talent or passion for martial training, even he knew what that meant. That move was lethal. No ordinary person could survive it.
"Lili! Run! You can't—" he shouted desperately, risking his sister's wrath.
But before he could finish, his words died in his throat. His jaw fell slack, eyes bulging, as if frozen in shock. He gaped so wide an egg could have fit inside.
Because the terrified Lili had vanished.
In her place stood a woman smiling calmly, wine glass in hand, raising it in a mock toast. Her poise was the opposite of panic.
"The Han family's heir truly lives up to her name," she said smoothly. The words, however, came out in a deep, masculine voice that shook the room. "So young, yet you've mastered the Cold Jade Palm to perfection."
Yuyao struck. Her frost-laden palm crashed down—
Boom!
The floor shattered under the blow, shards glittering with ice crystals. But her target was already gone.
The woman's body blurred like a phantom, retreating with impossible grace. Her face wore a teasing smile, utterly calm. She even threw Han Kun a coquettish wink.
"Such a pity, little pretty boy," she purred mockingly. "I can't stay to play tonight. Next time, keep those eyes open—don't make me pity you~ And by the way… nice basketball skills."
With that, she spun and hurled herself through the glass window behind her.
Shards exploded outward. She was gone.
The room froze in disbelief.
What the hell?! That was the twenty-eighth floor!
Everyone stared, dumbstruck. Even Zuo Yi's smug mask cracked.
Suicide? No—because the impossible unfolded right after.
The figure glided down with the wind, landing neatly atop a luxury car far below. The impact caved in the roof with a booming dent. A few agile leaps later, the woman's form dwindled into the darkness, swallowed by night.
A monster. Nothing less.
To jump from the twenty-eighth floor and walk away—what kind of freakish physique could allow that?
"You damn freak!"
Han Kun's scream shattered the silence. His face pale, body trembling, he retched until bile burned his throat. Red-eyed, he staggered to the shattered window.
"I'll kill you!" he roared, pounding the sill like a caged beast. "I'll kill you, you hear me?! Bastard! You're dead!"
Rage consumed him. The realization hit like a blade: he'd been played. Nearly ensnared. And this time it wasn't a casual fling—he'd actually been serious.
Serious! And he'd fallen for… for a cross-dressing freak.
Not only was his reputation as one of Kyoto's Four Young Masters in tatters, but the humiliation seared into his soul like acid.
Just as he was about to bellow again—
Smack!
Han Yuyao's slap hurled him back into the room. He crumpled, clutching his face, dazed.
Her eyes blazed with fury as she stalked forward. "You waste your life partying, never train when told, run around with scum like Huang Yu—" Her voice sharpened like steel. "You chase after anything in a skirt, not even caring if it's a man or woman. What's next? Planning to be a breeding pig?"
She seized his ear and yanked hard. He howled. Her anger only grew sharper. Seeing her brother's pathetic state made her think of Huang Yu again—his reckless indulgence, his shameless behavior—and her temper flared hotter. She twisted his ear harder.
"Ahh! It hurts!" Han Kun collapsed to his knees, clutching at her hand. "Sis—please, so many people are watching. Give me some dignity!"
"Dignity?" Yuyao's laugh was colder than ice. "After being duped by a freak, you think you still have dignity?"
She swept her gaze around the room, frosty and merciless. The lackeys who once followed Han Kun faithfully shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact, pretending to be interested in their fingernails or whispering to each other. None dared intervene. After all, this was the captain of the city's Criminal Police Division—crossing her was suicide.
Han Kun's fate? Not their problem.
Yuyao snorted. "Enough." She dragged him by the ear toward the door. "Time to leave."
"Easy, Sis, easy!" he whimpered, stumbling along in her grip. The squad of officers who had come with Yuyao moved to follow, gathering the group. Han Kun's cronies exhaled in collective relief, shoulders sagging now that the storm had passed.
But just as Han Yuyao reached the doorway—
"Leaving already, Officer Han?"
Zuo Yi's smooth voice cut through the air, halting her steps.