Chapter 523: Yang Qiuchan Stumbles, and Young Master Shen Smiles!
Shen Anyu didn't mind. Meeting a master who roams the world of mortals might make ordinary people rush to seek contact and apprenticeship, but he didn't take it to heart. Someone who could be instantly killed by a burst of mental power was not worth worrying about.
Still, Shen Anyu intended to have the man investigated. Prudence was a virtue he cultivated as keenly as any martial art. Any unknown variable that appeared near a Destined Heroine or a Child of Destiny demanded a thorough background check. The fact that this particular man had materialized so close to Yang Qiuchan was enough to warrant a sliver of his attention. It was a loose thread, and Shen Anyu despised loose threads.
With a thought, he discreetly deployed a nanometer monitoring robot from his cufflink. The tiny machine, invisible to the naked eye, detached and silently affixed itself to the deliveryman's collar, ready to relay every word and movement.
As Shen Anyu's Rolls-Royce Phantom purred away from the curb, the middle-aged deliveryman, Old Zhang, squinted at the disappearing luxury car. A knowing, almost teasing look crossed his weathered face as he turned to Yang Qiuchan's father.
"Boss Yang," he began, his voice a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest, "looks like your daughter might be in love, eh?"
Yang Qiuchan's father, who had been wiping down an already clean table, paused. His gaze drifted down the street where the Phantom had vanished, a complex mix of hope and melancholy clouding his features. "It's hard to say. That young man… he's a truly good kid. He's handsome, has an impeccable character. You should have seen him yesterday. Qiuchan nearly scalded him with a whole pot of boiling soup, and he didn't even flinch, didn't show an ounce of anger. Just concern for her."
He set the rag down, his hands tracing the worn grain of the wooden table. A heavy sigh escaped him. "It's a real pity. If not for… if not for her face… maybe something could happen. But our Qiuchan is disfigured now." The words were spoken with a quiet resignation that was more painful than any outburst of grief.
Yang Father shook his head, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, though it never reached his eyes. "A fine young man like that—good-looking, good-natured, and clearly from an exceptional family. But now… it's just too difficult. The gap is too wide."
He knew the harsh realities of the world. His daughter, his precious Yang Qiuchan, was so severely burned on her face and neck that she frightened children if she dared to go out without her mask. What kind of fairy tale would have a prince fall for a girl like that?
'If someone like him truly showed interest,' Yang Father thought grimly, 'I wouldn't believe it was love. I'd suspect it was some monstrous scam. The kind you hear about where they trick you and ship you off to northern Myanmar to harvest your organs.' The thought sent a cold dread through him.
"Besides," he added, forcing a lighter tone, "that boy brought another girl with him yesterday, a very pretty one at that. He probably already has a girlfriend." He remembered the elegant and confident Zhou Luyao, and the easy way she and Shen Anyu had interacted. They looked like a perfect couple. The sigh that followed was softer this time, filled with a sense of finality. "A boy that good… he and our Qiuchan were probably never meant to be."
Old Zhang patted the older man's shoulder, a gesture of silent comfort.
Yang Father's expression cleared, forcing a more genuine smile. He was a resilient man. "It's alright. I've made my peace with it. All I want now is to take good care of Qiuchan, make sure she can live the rest of her life in peace and happiness. That's enough for me." He then turned the conversation, his eyes showing genuine concern for his friend. "What about you, Old Zhang? Your daughter… has she forgiven you yet?"
At the mention of his daughter, the jovial air around Old Zhang vanished, replaced by a storm of conflicting emotions. Guilt, regret, and a profound, bone-deep pain etched new lines onto his face. "It's my fault," he said, his voice thick with self-loathing. "All my fault. I abandoned her and her mother when they needed me most. I wasn't there. Her mother… she's gone now, and my daughter has every right to hate me. She won't forgive me easily, I know that. But I'm prepared to spend the rest of my life trying to earn it back."
…
Inside the silent, opulent cabin of the Rolls-Royce Phantom, Shen Anyu withdrew his focus from the audio feed of the nano-bot. He drove with one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, his mind a whirlwind of cool, detached analysis.
'So, Old Zhang is a man with a story,' he mused. 'A broken family, a daughter who resents him, a past shrouded in regret. Classic protagonist backstory.' The possibilities spooled out in his mind. Was he a down-on-his-luck Child of Destiny, waiting for his golden finger to activate? Was he a reclusive master like Sword Immortal Nie Yun, hiding his power beneath a veneer of normalcy? Or perhaps he was the Destined Heroine's long-lost, powerful father, a common trope. Then again, he could be just a passerby, a meaningless NPC in the grand drama. Or… a rival villain. The nano-bot would continue its surveillance, and a full investigation would follow. No possibility could be left unexamined.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence. He glanced over at Yang Qiuchan, who was sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, her unease a tangible presence in the car. He offered her a disarming smile. "Am I driving too fast?"
"Brother Shen… are you… is your family very rich?" Yang Qiuchan finally managed to ask, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the polished wood, the plush leather, and the starlight headliner twinkling above. She couldn't identify the specific model, but the iconic silver statuette perched on the hood—the Spirit of Ecstasy—was unmistakable. This was a Rolls-Royce, a car from a world she had only ever seen in magazines.
"My family has a tiny bit of money," Shen Anyu replied gently. He took his hand off the wheel for a moment, holding up his other hand and pinching his index finger and thumb together, leaving only the barest sliver of a gap to playfully emphasize his point.
Yang Qiuchan sank deeper into the seat, feeling smaller with every passing second. She nervously clasped her hands between her thighs, her pearly white teeth worrying her lower lip. A thousand questions and feelings swirled inside her, but she couldn't voice a single one. An overwhelming sense of inferiority washed over her, cold and suffocating.
Brother Shen was perfect. His looks, his background, his personality, his character—he was flawless. A chasm, impossibly wide and deep, separated their two worlds. Even if she hadn't been disfigured, even if her face were still as it once was, she would never have been worthy of him.
'Yang Qiuchan, oh, Yang Qiuchan, stop dreaming,' she scolded herself, her heart aching. 'Don't entertain such foolish thoughts. A toad wanting to eat swan meat… it's pathetic. Just be grateful you can see him a few more times. That's more than you deserve. Don't wish for the impossible.'
She pressed her lips together, a sad understanding filling her beautiful eyes.
Before long, the car glided to a smooth stop. They had arrived at their destination. Still lost in her melancholic thoughts, Yang Qiuchan moved to get out, her mind dazed and her movements clumsy. Her foot caught on the edge of the doorway, and without paying attention, her balance gave way. The world tilted sideways.
Just as a scream was about to tear from her throat, she didn't hit the hard pavement. Instead, she fell into a warm, strong embrace that smelled faintly of sandalwood and clean linen.
"Are you alright?"
She looked up, her panicked heart hammering against her ribs, and met Shen Anyu's warm, caring smile. His eyes held nothing but concern. Her breath caught, and she could feel a tide of heat rush to her cheeks. "I-I'm fine," she stammered, pulling away.
However, the moment Shen Anyu released her and she tried to put weight on her foot, a sharp pain shot up her leg. She gasped, stumbling again, her body lurching sideways.
"Did you twist your ankle? Let me take a look."
"No need, Brother Shen, really, no need! I can handle it!" she protested, mortified.
"No, let me." His tone was gentle but left no room for argument. He firmly but carefully pressed her down onto the soft leather of the passenger seat, then knelt before her. Before she could protest further, he gently took hold of her calf and lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a crystal-clear, fair leg and a delicate foot nestled in a simple sandal. Her skin was flawless, smooth as polished jade, her proportions perfect.
There were no blemishes, no scars. Only perfection. And a faint, clean scent, like fresh blossoms. 'Food-grade,' a detached, appreciative corner of his mind noted.
Yang Qiuchan's burns were confined to her face and neck; her legs and feet remained untouched, a stunning remnant of her former beauty.
"It's quite serious. See? It's already red and swollen," Shen Anyu said, his brow furrowed in genuine-looking concern. His large, warm hand cupped her ankle, his thumb gently probing the swelling. "Luckily, I keep some bruise-healing liniment in the car. Let me massage it for you. Otherwise, it'll swell up so much you won't be able to walk later."
His expression was so full of earnest care, so devoid of any ulterior motive, that her initial embarrassment began to melt away. When his hand had first closed around her ankle, she had felt a jolt of intense shyness. But now, that shyness was being steadily replaced by a feeling of being cherished, a secret, blossoming delight.
"Thank you, Brother Shen," Yang Qiuchan whispered, biting her lower lip. A charming blush crept up her neck, and her beautiful eyes, clear as autumn water, seemed to shimmer with unshed tears of gratitude.
"Oh, it hurts~" she whimpered as Shen Anyu applied the cool liniment and his thumb pressed into a particularly tender spot. Her eyebrows knitted together in a brief flash of pain. But then she saw the intense focus on his face as he worked, his complete concentration dedicated to her well-being. She bit her lip to stifle any further sound, her gaze softening. The affection in her autumn-water eyes grew deeper, more tender. A wistful, impossible thought took root in her heart.
'If only… if only my face could be healed… if I could be with Brother Shen… how wonderful would that be?'
The very idea sent a sweet, intoxicating warmth spreading through her chest.
Meanwhile, Shen Anyu's thoughts were on a different, though not entirely unrelated, track. He only felt that the skin beneath his fingers was smoother than the finest Dove chocolate, more supple than the most expensive silk. Under his expert touch, her delicate foot reacted, the five perfect toes curling adorably. Their pads were plump and porcelain-white, like five flawless jade dumplings. The sight stirred an unexpected, primal urge.
Cough, cough.
An uncharacteristic flush crept up Shen Anyu's neck. He silently recited a calming mantra in his mind. 'A heart as clear as ice, unmoved by collapsing heavens.'
Yang Qiuchan's cheeks were burning even hotter now, and a strange heat was building deep within her. She couldn't tell if it was from the liniment, the summer air, or the searing warmth radiating from Shen Anyu's hand. At this moment, she felt as if his touch was a conduit for some astonishing energy, a heat that spread through every vein, making her whole body tingle. It was becoming almost impossible to stop the soft groan building in her throat.
Reacting quickly, Yang Qiuchan clamped a hand over her own crimson lips. She risked a glance down at Shen Anyu, but he was still completely engrossed in his task, his head bowed as he massaged her ankle with unwavering focus. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, though her heart refused to slow its frantic rhythm.
Shen Anyu, of course, had noticed everything. He chuckled inwardly, a flicker of amusement in his heart, but kept his head down, continuing his ministrations.
Neither of them spoke. A strange, charged atmosphere settled around them, thick with unspoken emotions and electric tension.
After what felt like both an eternity and a fleeting second, Yang Qiuchan watched with a touch of reluctance as Shen Anyu finally finished and stood up.
"It should be almost good now. Try it."
Meeting Shen Anyu's caring gaze, Yang Qiuchan stretched her foot and rotated her ankle. The sharp pain was gone, replaced by a dull, fading ache. It was a minor miracle.
"Brother Shen, thank you. You're amazing, it really doesn't hurt anymore."
"What are you thanking me for? Aren't we friends?"
"Yes, we are friends."
Yang Qiuchan nodded like a pecking chick, her eyes full of smiles.
[Ding! Detected Destined Heroine Yang Qiuchan's favorability +3. Plundering 9,000 Destiny Points!]
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