The night draped low, and the city skyline shimmered faintly under scattered stars.
Han Ling stood on the balcony, his cold gaze sweeping over the garden below. The breeze lifted the hem of his robe, carrying a hint of chill. His expression didn't waver as he opened his light-brain terminal and typed out a single message with slender fingers:
[Lonely ling]: An Junhui is leaving tonight. 19:03. Private shuttle.
The corners of his lips curled into a barely noticeable sneer. So An Junhui really couldn't hold back and decided to make his move tonight.
Almost instantly, a reply popped up:
[Leander Ashcroft]: Received. See you at 19:00.
Han Ling's icy gaze shifted toward the shadows behind him.
"Come out. Hiding like that suits you poorly."
A low chuckle answered him as Leander stepped lazily from the darkness. His tall, lean figure leaned against the wall, golden hair catching the faint light as it swayed in the wind.
"You figured it out already? As expected." Leander's tone was teasing as he strolled closer, hands in pockets.
Han Ling didn't even spare him a look. "You've already planted spies in his household?"
"Naturally. You really do have a frightening mind, you know? Makes me wonder what I'd do if you weren't on my side."
Leander's grin deepened as he leaned closer, his voice dropping low. "Three days apart. Don't you think you should at least say something to me?"
Han Ling turned his face away, his tone cold as ever. "We're on a mission. Don't waste time with unnecessary words."
"Tch. Boring as ever," Leander murmured, lips quirking as he leaned to whisper against Han Ling's ear. "Still missed you, though."
Han Ling froze just slightly, the tips of his ears tinged faint red before he suppressed it and strode away.
"We're wasting time."
Leander laughed softly, shaking his head, and followed. No amount of light-brain messages could compare to seeing Han Ling in person the cool, restrained air about him just begged to be teased.
This mission wasn't just about tracking someone.
The shuttle streaked across the night sky in a trail of pale light.
Han Ling and Leander sat side by side in the back, silently watching the private shuttle ahead carrying An Junhui. Occasionally, their elbows brushed, sending faint jolts of tension through the air.
When An Junhui's shuttle landed at a high-end restaurant, he adjusted his collar and strode inside.
Han Ling's fingers flicked slightly, and a talismanic glow shot from his fingertips, silently embedding itself in An Junhui's back.
Leander raised an eyebrow. "Eavesdropping spell?"
Han Ling nodded faintly. "It'll last the whole night."
They booked a private booth in the room next to An Junhui's, the waiter clearly swayed by the special clearance Leander flashed him.
Leander handed Han Ling a menu with a soft smile. "Didn't expect him to eat here. I'll order for you—you'll like this one."
Han Ling only glanced at him coolly, saying nothing. His eyes stayed fixed on the paper talisman and small paper doll on the table. With a tap of his fingers, spiritual power infused the doll, which trembled to life and began transmitting the voices from the next room.
At first, there was only laughter. Then it escalated into a furious shout.
"An Ye! You ungrateful bastard! Why drag me down? Do you want me dead?!"
A broken, hoarse voice replied bitterly:
"…Dad…"
Even Leander sat up straighter at that, murmuring, "Illegitimate son? Didn't expect that. That meek uncle of yours really had an affair and even a kid."
Han Ling stayed silent, listening intently.
"I didn't want to hurt you. But… if I didn't act first, I'd be the one suspected. The master said it wouldn't kill you… I just… didn't want to be invisible anymore…"
There was a chilling silence, then a loud bang as An Junhui slammed the table.
"You couldn't wait to be recognized as heir? You resorted to such low, dirty tricks? You deserved to be shunned at the company!"
The younger man's voice cracked into a sob.
"Deserved?! Why do I have to live in their shadow? Do you know what they call me? A bastard without a mother! I hate them all!"
After a long silence, An Junhui's voice cooled.
"…You took the wrong step. You should've waited…"
Then, suddenly, his voice turned sharp with terror.
"Your… your voice… your body… what's wrong with you?!"
Rustling clothes. Then An Ye's broken, hollow voice:
"…That master said using blood would make the curse stronger… I agreed… but the backlash…"
The room fell into an eerie, bone-chilling silence.
An Junhui finally screamed, voice cracking.
"What is this?! Why?! Why?!"
An Ye's weak voice was numb and lost.
"…Doesn't hurt… no blood… but I don't know what I've become… Dad… the master is gone… I can't find him anymore…"
Then came nothing but despairing cries.
Leander frowned, glancing at Han Ling. "What the hell did he do to himself?"
Han Ling calmly retrieved the paper doll, explaining coolly:
"Using blood to fuel a curse amplifies its power. But the cost is high. He wasn't a cultivator—his body couldn't withstand it. He's little more than a walking corpse now. In a few days, he'll die."
Leander exhaled, eyes cold. "Brutal."
Han Ling only replied, "His choice."
Sealing the recording into a jade slip, he handed it to Leander. "Notify Hang Zhongxuan. He can start the arrests."
Leander's smile returned as he pocketed the jade. "Got it. Anything for you."
Han Ling glared faintly, but his own heart muttered mockingly: So I really am weak to a handsome face…
When they exited the restaurant, the sky had turned pitch black, street lamps casting a warm glow on their shoulders as they walked side by side.
Leander teased, "Still sulking over that flower dish? Your face was darker than that paper doll's."
Han Ling shot him a cold glance and hummed, recalling the embarrassing moment earlier when Leander had dumped a petal-topped dessert into his bowl with a fake-innocent grin:
"It's edible. Sweet. You like sweet things, don't you?"
But the taste had been bitter and strange, making his eyes water with the pollen.
"Good, isn't it, Master Han?"
Han Ling's face had flushed red then, tossing only a low, clipped: "Childish."
Even now, he quickened his pace. Leander caught up easily, reaching out to neaten his collar with cool, gentle fingers.
"Petty," Leander murmured fondly. "Next time I won't tease."
Han Ling retorted coldly, "There won't be a next time." But the faint red tint on his ears betrayed him.
———
Later that night, at the Special Bureau headquarters, the recording and evidence were handed to Director Hang. Orders were issued immediately.
At dawn, just as An Junhui returned home, Special Bureau enforcers burst in with a warrant and cuffed him before he could even sit down.
An Junhui screamed in terror, "Who are you?! Why are you arresting me?! I didn't do anything!"
But the evidence sealed in the recording talisman was irrefutable. He couldn't deny it, and could only be dragged into the speeding vehicle and taken back to the Special Division.
At that moment, the interrogation room was brightly lit, yet the air was cold and oppressive.
When An Junhui was pushed into the room, his eyes immediately fell on the figure sitting in the corner. That figure was hunched over, the brim of his hat pulled low, and an unbearable stench permeated around him.
"An Ye?"
The man slowly raised his head, revealing a face so rotted it was beyond recognition. His eye sockets were sunken, flesh torn and curling, as if slashed open and left exposed to the air for days—no blood, no pain, but radiating a nauseating stench.
"Dad…" An Ye's voice was already hoarse and broken, like a ghoul crawling out of hell. "We're finished…"
An Junhui lunged forward, trembling as he reached for him, but was coldly stopped by Hang Zhongxuan.
"Don't move. We already have all the evidence of you and your son's crimes. Secretly hiring a sorcerer to cast a deadly curse on others, nearly killing innocent people, and even daring to plot against your own kin. What else do you have to say?"
An Junhui stared blankly at his own hands, then turned to look at An Ye's inhuman, ghastly face. His whole body collapsed.
"No… Impossible… This isn't real…"
When he thought of Han Ling, who had broken the Gu curse, he suddenly howled in rage,
"If it weren't for An Yan bringing him home, we'd have succeeded long ago!!! Damn him—"
Hang Zhongxuan impatiently motioned to his subordinates to continue the interrogation.
At first, An Ye still tried to talk tough, but after being told he "wouldn't last a few more days," he finally broke down, sobbing bitterly.
"Why… Why is it so unfair to me… Why… I'm your son! …I wanted to live with dignity too…"
His wailing was full of hatred and despair.
Han Ling and Leander stood in the observation room, watching everything through the one-way glass.
Leander let out a low sigh. "He chose the wrong path from the start. This was the only possible end."
Han Ling's expression was calm. "It's not fate. They brought it on themselves."
The observation room fell silent.
No one knew how much time passed, when suddenly a blood-curdling scream came from the interrogation room.
An Ye's body suddenly went rigid, then began to convulse violently.
The air was filled with a strong, foul stench. His corpse rotted rapidly, skin splitting open as yellowish fluid oozed out. Within moments, he already looked like a corpse that had decayed underground for days, exuding waves of nauseating odor.
An Junhui, watching this scene, let out a heart-wrenching roar:
"No—!"
Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed heavily, unconscious.
Hang Zhongxuan coldly watched the entire scene, then ordered his men to clean up and take both of them away.
The next day, the Special Division summoned the entire An family to explain the situation.
Alice, An Yan, An Yang, and Annie stood outside the door, faces pale.
When they saw Han Ling and Leander walk past, they couldn't help but rush up to stop them.
"What on earth is going on?!" An Yan demanded, eyes red.
"How could my dad be arrested?! And my cousin!! How could he…"
Han Ling only replied coldly,
"Wait until Director Hang finishes questioning you. You'll know soon enough."
With that, he walked straight into the interrogation room, ignoring them.
Leander, grinning, glanced at An Yan and even added softly,
"Don't be in such a rush, kid. You'll see soon enough just how disgusting the truth really is."
Alice clenched her hands tightly, her face ashen, her eyes already showing faint terror and unease.
In another lounge, Han Ling sat in a corner, still wearing a frosty expression, seeming a little displeased.
Leander walked over with a plate of fruit, casually placing a plump, crystal-clear grape into Han Ling's hand.
"Still mad?"
Han Ling ignored him.
"Alright, alright, it's my fault. I shouldn't have coaxed you into eating that flower."
Leander leaned closer, his tone carrying a teasing smile.
"It did taste bad, but the way you eat is just so cute, you know?"
Han Ling glared at him fiercely, yet still didn't throw the grape back.
Leander's heart softened, and he leaned closer to whisper gently,
"Don't sulk anymore, alright? When this is over, I'll take you to eat something better. Hm?"
Han Ling finally didn't say anything else—silently agreeing.
After the interrogation concluded, Hang Zhongxuan personally appeared to read out the results to the An family.
"An Junhui and An Ye colluded in secret with a dark sorcerer, casting a deadly curse on their own kin and attempting murder. The evidence is conclusive. An Ye died suddenly during interrogation. An Junhui will be sentenced according to the law."
The news was like a thunderclap, leaving the An family stunned and speechless.
Alice's face turned deathly pale. She stumbled back a step, lips trembling as she muttered:
"Impossible… He… how could he…"
Her hollow eyes turned to Han Ling, as though trying to find something in his expression, but Han Ling only looked at her coldly, without a trace of pity.
"If it weren't for me, you and your children would already be dead." Han Ling said indifferently.
Alice suddenly hugged her three children tightly, and at last the tears spilled from her eyes.
An Yan was trembling with rage.
"He… he actually…!"
Anger, humiliation, and shock twisted together as he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
Han Ling turned away, no longer looking at them, leaving just one final sentence:
"Cut the weeds and dig out the roots—don't let them ruin your fortune."
Months later, Alice finally steeled herself to divorce An Junhui, cut off all ties of interest with the An family, and took her children to move out of the old mansion.
That night, Han Ling and Leander were lying on the rooftop of Han Ling's room, looking at the night sky.
Leander spoke lazily,
"The ending's not too bad. At least… someone finally woke up."
Han Ling lowered his eyes, his tone cold yet calm.
"This is the price."
Leander looked at him, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile as he murmured softly:
"And you… when will you stop being so cold, hm?"
Han Ling didn't answer. He simply turned to leave, but in the night wind, the tips of his ears flushed slightly red.
Leander only chuckled softly, raising his eyes to the starry sky, and said to himself in his heart:
You're pretty cute like this, too.