On Saturday night, the brightly lit Wen Residence was destined for a sleepless evening.
By the time Lin Xun arrived, the chaos had already been brought under control. The Wen Family servants bustled about, cleaning up the aftermath, disposing of the freakishly appeared ice crystals and the frostbitten plants.
A chill still lingered in the air. Lin Xun yawned as he wandered through the garden—the “crime scene.” He listened to someone recounting the general situation from behind him, casually pinching the wilted petals of some flowers along the way. He also pointed out a few spots with obvious traces of lingering Supernatural Ability residue, advising the Wen Family staff to deal with them promptly.
The source of the incident was under the lampposts. A few lights had unexpectedly flickered out due to a malfunction, casting a patch of darkness over Wen Tianlu and serving as the trigger for his Ability to spiral out of control. In the end, it wrecked the small-scale garden party for the evening.
Fortunately, this was the Wen Residence after all. Home turf always had the most comprehensive measures for handling Ability disruptions. Plus, there were few guests at the party, and Jiang Hehu had been nearby when it happened, which greatly helped in controlling the situation and buying time.
The incident was nowhere near as severe as the riot Xie Qi had once caused. All the cleanup efforts proceeded swiftly and “quietly,” nipping the matter in the bud without alerting the Secret Tower.
Wen Tianlu had already been taken away to rest. As for what came after… who knew? Not a single member of the Wen Family was mentally stable. Even the relatively healthiest one, Wen Ruoyue, had inherited her mother’s bizarre penchant for falling for “useless, spineless losers” at their core.
Lin Xun could help speed up the aftermath, but he had no business meddling in another family’s affairs. After poking around, he plopped down casually next to the biggest hero of the night—Jiang Hehu, who was lounging on a garden chair—and asked, “So, he lost control just because a few lights overhead went out?”
Lin Xun added coolly, “He could’ve just taken a few steps forward and been back in the light.”
Jiang Hehu had been venting his frustration on his game, mashing the buttons with resounding clicks. He glanced up at Lin Xun. A bandage plastered his face, his wrist was wrapped, and there were signs of wound treatment on his arm and waist.
Super A-Grades could pretty much strut among other Ability users, but against an S-Grade, the rank gap was real. Luckily, Jiang Hehu wasn’t seriously hurt. He looked spirited enough, and with his body-reinforcement Ability Bloodbath, he’d probably be bouncing back by morning.
In a state of mental confusion, it was hard to make rational judgments—like a drowning person flailing wildly instead of cooperating with rescuers. Wen Tianlu was extremely sensitive to dark environments, but he’d never before instantly lost all reason and gone berserk the moment darkness fell. This time, it was partly because his mood had been foul lately, and partly—
Jiang Hehu tossed a round object onto the table.
“…What’s this?” Lin Xun picked it up and examined it from all angles, drawing a blank. “A coin?”
“Wen Tianlu’s.” Jiang Hehu said irritably, “No idea what it’s for.”
When the darkness first fell, Wen Tianlu hadn’t rampaged immediately. Combining eyewitness accounts from those nearby and the on-site search, he’d first reached into his pocket.
He’d gone for the coin in there, but stress made his hand shake. He fumbled it, and it slipped from his fingers into the flowerbed.
Instead of backing out of the darkness toward the light just steps away, he’d stepped deeper into the garden’s thicker shadows to retrieve it. He groped around for a few seconds without finding it, and then the cold wave erupted.
…What a ridiculously stupid “suicide” move.
Lin Xun was speechless for a moment. He eyed the utterly ordinary-looking coin suspiciously. What value could something like this have to warrant carrying it around?
A guess suddenly flashed in Lin Xun’s mind. His hand paused, a absurd emotion bubbling up.
“He’s got issues!” Jiang Hehu cursed from the side. Lin Xun turned to him, not buying that Jiang Hehu was truly clueless about Wen Tianlu’s behavior.
They might even share the same suspicion. Lin Xun rubbed the coin—which had gone from Wen Tianlu’s pocket to Jiang Hehu’s, still faintly warm—with his fingers, reluctant to set it down. He heard Jiang Hehu ask coldly from nearby, “You done?”
It’s not yours either, Lin Xun thought with a smirk. He set the coin down and said, “Relax, I’m not interested in taking someone else’s stuff.”
An eerie silence fell between them. Lin Xun’s gaze drifted idly to the crowd nearby. After a moment, he broke the quiet. “The Qian Family’s here too? Qian Lang’s got way too much free time on his hands.”
He said this without much interest in the topic itself. Lin Xun waved someone over and grinned mischievously. “We’re just missing the Xie Family now. Why don’t you go call out for them? Get Xie Qi over here too?”
The man looked troubled and replied tactfully, “Young Master Xie seems to have important business today. He specifically said not to pass on any messages.”
Jiang Hehu suddenly snorted from the side. He narrowed his eyes and shot a pointed jab at Lin Xun out of nowhere. “Masochist.”
What did a weekend mean for a couple from different departments and classes? Obviously, cozying up together on a date. Knowing he had plans and still asking on purpose—self-inflicted pain.
What was Xie Qi doing right now? While Jiang Hehu and Lin Xun shivered in the open-air garden, Xie Qi was snuggling with Wen Jiang under the covers.
Xie Qi kissed him for the fifth time, trying different angles. But this one lasted too long; he forgot to hold back and nearly rolled on top of Wen Jiang. The one who firmly remembered they had to sleep gave his hand a not-too-light, not-too-heavy slap.
“…I’ve got stuff to do too,” Lin Xun ignored Jiang Hehu and grumbled coolly. “I’ve gotta get up early to watch the kid. Who’s compensating me for my sleep?”
Another voice chimed in lightly from nearby. “Xie Qi’s probably with Wen Jiang.”
Xie Qi wouldn’t hear about this until tomorrow anyway—it hardly mattered. Qian Lang, meanwhile, was utterly relaxed overseas, spectating the drama at the same blistering pace as if he were still in Yanhai. A Qian Family servant impassively held up a phone, joining their conversation. Qian Lang’s voice came through: “Our Xiao Jiang’s pretty popular, huh?”
Lin Xun and Jiang Hehu fell silent for a beat. Moments later, Lin Xun drawled leisurely, “What are you here for? Just to chat?”
“Yeah.” Qian Lang admitted readily, chatting as casually as ever. “Just finished my treatment. I’m a tad smarter than usual right now—passive effect. But it’ll wear off soon and I’ll be back to normal. Figured I’d seize the moment and chat with you guys for a few minutes. Shame someone’s missing.”
“Yeah, the most crucial one’s absent.” The guy who’d always loved breaking up couples had been carted off early—no lectures this time. Lin Xun shrugged and teased, “But you really think lecturing works? I doubt it.”
“Let him do whatever,” Qian Lang cut in decisively, showing no interest in nagging. He quickly added, “You guys too.”
Lin Xun’s eyes grew colder. The hitherto silent Jiang Hehu suddenly tsked. He furrowed his brow, paused, then muttered softly, “I’m not getting involved.”
His words lacked force, and no one teased him for it. Jiang Hehu felt uncomfortable, pissed off, annoyed to death. Subconsciously, he weighed the situation: Xie Qi might go berserk, but he’d never hurt Wen Jiang even a little before. Wen Tianlu going feral was like a rabid dog—who knew what his old man would do next.
“…That’s rare,” Lin Xun made no promises, just asked, “Aren’t you Xiao Jiang’s big brother figure? Going hands-off now? I figured you’d be bodyguard for his love life.”
“Because you lot showing up wouldn’t help anyway.”
Qian Lang suddenly laughed, sharpening his tone toward Lin Xun in a tit-for-tat edge. “The more I try to stop you, the more you’d push. Wouldn’t it be perfect if Xiao Jiang made you give up himself?”
“This has nothing to do with whether Wen Jiang’s loyal in love. Of course, our Xiao Jiang is a good kid.” Qian Lang’s words dripped with unmasked venom. “Lin Xun, you’re overestimating yourself a bit.”
“Think about it. You’re standing here injured, out of control, freezing in the cold wind. Does Wen Jiang want to know? Care to know? Would he even react?”
This briefly “smarter” Qian Lang didn’t seem to need responses, rambling on solo. “You’d probably say Xie Qi’s no saint either, right? Yeah, that guy’s temper was explosive—who had it worse? We’re all much the same at heart. That’s why we hang together.”
“But he’s changed. Wen Jiang changed him.” Qian Lang lounged on his recliner, emphasizing over the phone, “First one.”
The lucky one was lucky—luck itself was capital. The first to seize the opportunity and claim the market got the lion’s share; the rest just slurped the scraps. How common.
“The longer you spend with Wen Jiang, I bet you’d change like Xie Qi too. Hell, you’ve already changed some, right?” Qian Lang chuckled. “But too late. No point.”
“Even if Wen Jiang molds you into a model… law-abiding, upstanding pillar of the new era, before that—what value do you have to make him invest the effort on teaching a second one like you?”
