The Abused Villain is Always Obsessed with Me - Chapter 25

Her smooth black hair cascaded to her waist, draping over the counter as she leaned forward slightly.

Feng Hechi’s hands paused momentarily, his expression momentarily surprised as he recognized the woman before him.

“What are you staring at? Is my makeup smudged?” she asked, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a faint smile.

Feng Hechi smiled in return, shaking his head gently. “I just didn’t expect you to come by at this hour.”

Manna gracefully settled into the recently vacated seat, quietly resting her chin in her hand as she watched Feng Hechi busy himself with the orders.

She didn’t speak, and Feng Hechi remained silent as well.

The two faced each other, as if the incident between them had never occurred.

“Your technique has become remarkably refined,” Manna remarked after a long pause.

Feng Hechi chuckled. “When you do the same thing all day, you’re bound to get good at it eventually.”

“That’s good,” Manna nodded faintly. “It seems I don’t need to worry about your debts anymore.”

Feng Hechi’s hands stilled. Sensing the unusual tone in her voice, he looked up at her. “Did you come here tonight for a specific reason?”

“It’s nothing much,” Manna said, her beautiful eyes lifting slightly to meet Feng Hechi’s gaze before drifting away. “I’m leaving. I came to say goodbye.”

Feng Hechi frowned slightly. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere will do,” Manna replied, resting her chin in her hand and gazing distantly through the thick glass of the bar at the dazzling neon lights across the street. “Somewhere no one knows me. I’ll find a new job and settle down there.”

Feng Hechi stared at her.

So Lu Cang’s words at home last time really hurt her.

She probably wanted to leave this place completely, to put all the past behind her.

Feng Hechi didn’t know her well, nor did he understand her true feelings for the original owner of his body. Therefore, he had no right, nor any intention, to interfere with Manna’s decisions.

He nodded and reached for an empty glass.

“Then let me buy you one last drink.”

Manna smiled.

The azure liquid swirled in the glass, its refreshing aroma of sea salt and lemon mingling in the air. Contrary to its appearance, the drink tasted slightly bitter. Manna took a small sip, feeling the icy liquid slide down her throat, leaving a fiery, bitter sensation in its wake.

“You’re so different from before,” she murmured, setting down her wine glass and lowering her gaze.

“You’ve said that several times already,” Feng Hechi replied, his expression indifferent.

“Yes, but I still want to say it,” Manna said, her lips curving into a slow smile as she lifted her gaze to study the man before her. Her eyes traced the contours of his brows and the corners of his eyes before settling on his lips.

“More ambitious, more composed, more… likable than before.”

Manna stared at him, the delicate makeup unable to conceal the disappointment in her eyes. “And more distant.”

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel like you’ll leave soon.”

She fixed her gaze on him. “Will you leave?”

Feng Hechi’s expression remained unchanged, his hands continuing their busy work without pause. His voice was flat. “Everyone leaves eventually.”

Realizing he had no intention of elaborating, Manna chuckled, a hint of self-mockery in her voice. She set down her glass and stood up. “Right. I’ll take my leave first, then.”

She looked at Feng Hechi, then suddenly opened her arms with a faint smile. “A hug?”

Feng Hechi froze, still searching for an answer, when Manna gently turned toward him, her arms briefly circling his back in a fleeting embrace that lasted barely a second before she released him.

The gesture was so light it barely registered as a hug.

She turned and walked toward the more crowded booths.

“Not staying a bit longer?” Feng Hechi called after her, his voice just loud enough to cut through the jazz music and reach her ears.

“I am staying,” Manna replied, her voice laced with amusement but without turning back. “Just going to sit somewhere more lively.”

Watching Manna’s figure blend into the crowd, Feng Hechi lowered his gaze.

Manna had helped him countless times.

To be precise, he had been exploiting her.

Whether it was using her lingering affection for the original owner of his body to secure a job that would allow him to repay his debts, or manipulating her to fuel Lu Cang’s hatred.

He owed Manna a great deal, yet he could do nothing more for her.

Somewhere along the way, his capacity for genuine emotion toward those around him had gradually eroded.

As a child, he had felt pangs of sorrow when his father doted on his half-brother, born to his stepmother, and bewilderment at the stepmother’s veiled hostility beneath her amiable facade.

But those feelings had long since dissipated like smoke.

His father’s excessive favoritism toward his younger brother became Feng Hechi’s leverage to guilt-trip him, ultimately leading to the transfer of the family business into his hands. His stepmother’s words, meanwhile, were the handle he used to manipulate public opinion and easily control her and her son.

As long as it served his goals, he would exploit anyone.

This was a lesson he had learned in childhood, a principle he had consistently practiced throughout his life.

Regarding Manna’s departure, he felt only a slight regret.

Yet he couldn’t tell if he regretted her leaving or regretted that she could no longer provide assistance in his future missions.

The clear liquid in his glass reflected the overhead light, Feng Hechi’s distorted reflection sinking into its depths.

In the transparent liquid, the eyes mirrored back were as dark as still water, devoid of any glimmer.

It was past midnight when the woman left the bar.

Stepping through the heavy door, she left behind the bar’s raucous noise. The streets at 3 a.m. were deserted, save for the listless streetlights casting a dim, yellow glow.

The bar was tucked deep within a narrow alley. To get back, she first had to walk a considerable distance to the alley’s mouth, where she could hail a taxi on the main road.

Manna pressed her fingers against the throbbing nerve beneath her skin, slightly easing the pain at her temples.

She had drunk heavily tonight.

After bidding farewell to Feng Hechi, she had settled into a secluded corner, ordered a bottle of strong liquor, and quietly poured and drank, her gaze fixed on the man behind the bar.

Only as closing time approached and the crowd began to thin did she rise and leave with the departing patrons.

Standing in the waiting area outside the bar, she let the wind cool her alcohol-induced heat. By the time she finally stepped out, the earlier crowd had long dispersed. Manna, in her high heels, slowly walked along the alley wall toward the exit.

In the silent alley, the muffled, rhythmic clicks of her heels against the concrete echoed briefly.

Manna suddenly stopped walking.

Her mind was still hazy from the alcohol, but her awareness was slowly returning.

In the quiet alley, mingled with the rhythmic clack of her heels on the pavement, was another sound:

Slow, soft footsteps deliberately matching her pace.

Manna whirled around.

The sight before her froze her in place.

Five meters behind her, a figure stood motionless. A schoolbag was slung diagonally across his back, and his hands were tucked into his pockets as he stared at her with an expressionless gaze.

This was the same way the boy had looked at her the last time she asked for his name, refusing to answer.

Feng Hechi’s adopted son.

“Why are you here?” Manna asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.

Isn’t he a student? What’s he doing at a bar at this hour?

And Feng Hechi’s bar, no less.

Did Feng Hechi send him…? No, that’s impossible.

Feng Hechi couldn’t possibly know he’s here.

Manna’s eyes fixed on the schoolbag slung over the boy’s shoulder. He must have come straight here after school, still carrying his books.

Just like that day, the boy didn’t answer her question. He simply stared silently at Manna before slowly walking toward her.

Manna instinctively tightened her grip on her purse strap, her eyes fixed on his movements.

Lu Cang walked at a steady, unhurried pace, almost leisurely. His gaze remained locked on Manna as he closed the distance between them, step by step.

“Don’t move!”

Seeing Lu Cang continue to advance even when he was only two meters away, Manna took a step back and raised her voice to stop him.

The boy paused, retracting his raised foot, and looked at her with a dark, unfathomable gaze.

“Why are you here?”

His voice was hoarse and low, echoing Manna’s question back at her without answering it.

The deep, shadowy gaze seemed utterly incongruous with his delicate, peach-blossom eyes.

Under that piercing stare, Manna felt like she had been locked onto by some unknown creature lurking in the darkness, about to be mercilessly torn apart.

“Answer me first!”

The strange unease she had felt at Feng Hechi’s house that day resurfaced, causing her voice to tremble.

“You’re here to see him,” the boy continued, speaking as if to himself.

He didn’t mention a name, but Manna knew exactly who he meant. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment.

“What did you say to him? Why are you here to see him?”

The boy frowned slightly, as if genuinely puzzled.

Manna gritted her teeth, a chill slowly creeping up her spine. She stared intently at Lu Cang, fearing his next move.

“It’s none of your business. You’re just Feng Hechi’s adopted son. Aren’t you being a bit too nosy?”

Despite the sudden panic rising within her, Manna cleared her throat and forced herself to sound calm.

I’m an adult. How can I cower before a child?

But the moment she spoke those words, Manna saw the boy’s expression shift dramatically.

His eyelids lowered halfway, casting small shadows across his cheeks. His dark eyes were bottomless, like deep pools. She heard him chuckle softly as he slowly raised his gaze, the whites of his eyes slightly bloodshot, his malevolent stare piercing her like poisoned daggers.

Something’s wrong.

This boy is deeply wrong.

Manna instinctively took a step back, then another.

When she saw that look in his eyes, her bl00d seemed to freeze in her veins. A chill crept up from her fingertips, spreading through her entire body in an instant.

This wasn’t the kind of look a boy his age should have.

Seeing her retreat, Lu Cang chuckled again—a murky, hoarse sound that rolled slowly from his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed, as if the very air around them had dropped several degrees.

“You must want to get close to him again, to take him away from me, from this house, just like all those other women did.”

The boy murmured to himself, his gaze fixed blankly ahead.

“That disgusting man is gone now. Finally, someone has taken his place by my side.”

“He’s all I have left.”

“Why do you all want to steal him away?”

What was he talking about? Steal what? Who was trying to steal him?

Manna froze, utterly bewildered by Lu Cang’s rambling.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat.

She watched as the young man before her suddenly began to walk slowly toward her. His right hand, which had been tucked in his pocket, shifted outward just enough for Manna to see what he was hiding.

In the moonlight, it gleamed with a cold, silvery light.

He saw it, Lu Cang thought, his expressionless gaze fixed on the woman before him.

He had seen her approach that man, chatting with him with a radiant smile, accepting the wine glass offered by those slender fingers.

He had seen her lean in to embrace him.

She still refuses to give up, doesn’t she?

This woman had come to the home where he and his mother had once lived, sitting intimately with that man. Now, she had come behind his back to find him at this bar.

She wants to steal him away.

Lu Cang would not allow it.

That loathsome man had finally disappeared, and that person—that cold, indifferent, aloof being—had taken his place in everything.

He was different from the Feng Hechi of the past.

He would pull Lu Cang from the icy river, care for him when his fever wouldn’t break, and even when injured, he would stop the knife in Lu Cang’s hand, saying he wouldn’t let him die.

Lu Cang would never let anyone take him away from her.

Those deep, indifferent eyes should only look at him, only show emotion because of him.

To ensure this, he stayed alone in a corner of the bar, quietly watching the woman’s figure, calmly waiting.

When the crowd surged out, he almost thought he’d missed his chance.

Fortunately, the woman lingered in the waiting area by the bar’s entrance for a long time, until the area was completely deserted again.

Lu Cang remained hidden in the shadows, his gaze fixed on her.

Finally, the moment had come.

Unhurriedly, Lu Cang stepped forward, approaching the woman who was now trembling violently just two meters away.

The handle of the small knife hidden in his pocket had grown warm from the heat of his palm, while the cold blade brushed against his skin, sending a fine shiver through him.

As Lu Cang slowly approached, the woman seemed to desperately want to retreat, but her legs, weakened by terror, refused to obey. Her terrified gaze remained fixed on Lu Cang’s hand.

She had realized.

A corner of Lu Cang’s mouth curled into a smile.

Let her disappear.

Lu Cang pulled the knife from his pocket and slowly raised the blade. He noticed the woman’s fear intensifying with each movement, and he couldn’t suppress the urge to laugh.

This is how it should be.

Everyone who tries to take him away from me deserves this.

He meticulously adjusted the blade to the perfect angle, aimed it at the woman’s abdomen, and thrust forward without hesitation.

But the expected sensation of the blade piercing soft flesh never came. Nor did the warmth of fresh bl00d stain the back of his hand.

Instead, a familiar, bony hand clamped firmly around his wrist.

Lu Cang lowered his gaze to stare at that hand, thinking:

There should be a distinct scar on the palm of that hand.

In the next instant, tremendous force surged from the hand gripping his wrist, violently yanking Lu Cang’s arm up to eye level. Following the momentum, Lu Cang looked up and met the gaze of a pair of deep, phoenix-shaped eyes.

A searing pain erupted from his wrist, causing Lu Cang’s grip on the knife to loosen and release.

Clang! The knife clattered against the concrete floor.

Lu Cang didn’t glance down. He remained locked in a fierce stare with those narrow, piercing eyes.

In his pure black pupils surged the same frost-like coldness Lu Cang had seen before, the fury churning deep within his eyes like a volcano hidden beneath the ocean’s depths.

Once again, Lu Cang witnessed the emotional turmoil he had stirred within those eyes, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

But he couldn’t continue to watch.

A sharp slap landed squarely on his face.

The young man staggered back two steps, barely managing to regain his balance.

His face turned to the side, the half facing Feng Hechi was swollen and burning red, leaving a faint crimson mark that faintly revealed the imprint of fingers.

The slap had been delivered with brutal force.

Feng Hechi stared expressionlessly at Lu Cang, who remained frozen in his original position.

Based on his own experience, Lu Cang would likely suffer from tinnitus for a while. In addition, the struck skin would feel taut and tight, with a sharp, throbbing pain radiating from his temples.

Feng Hechi glanced at the small knife lying nearby.

He was certain that if he hadn’t arrived in time, that blade would already be buried in Manna’s abdomen.

“Are you alright?”

Withdrawing his gaze, Feng Hechi didn’t spare another glance at Lu Cang, who stood with his head still turned. He strode quickly to the woman who remained frozen in place.

Manna gripped his clothes tightly, like a drowning person clinging to a lifeline. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound escaped her throat. Only large tears rolled down her cheeks, silently tracing paths down her face.

Even Feng Hechi’s heart clenched at the sight.

Manna didn’t deserve this.

He sighed, pulled a tissue from his pocket, and gently wiped away the tears streaming down her face. “I’ll call you a car,” he murmured. “Go home and rest.”

Manna nodded silently, her hand still gripping the corner of Feng Hechi’s coat.

His gaze turned icy as he glared at Lu Cang, standing a few meters away.

“Do you even realize what you just did?”

The figure, frozen like a statue, finally stirred, slowly turning his head to meet Feng Hechi’s gaze.

The moment Feng Hechi saw his expression, he froze.

Lu Cang was still smiling.

A faint curve lifted the corners of his lips, and the stray strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead shifted with the movement, revealing his dark, gleaming eyes.

“Of course I do,” Lu Cang replied softly, his voice gentle as he gazed at Feng Hechi. “I just didn’t want her to take you away from me.”

Feng Hechi’s brow furrowed deeply, almost doubting his own ears.

He had assumed Lu Cang was acting out of resentment toward Manna for visiting their home.

What exactly is he saying?

Lu Cang took another step toward them. Feng Hechi turned to face him, shifting his body to shield Manna behind him.

Noticing the movement, Lu Cang’s eyes darkened.

Detected increase in hatred value. Current target hatred value: 88.1%.

The sudden spike in hatred value left Feng Hechi even more bewildered. In truth, this strange feeling had lingered in his mind ever since Manna first came to his home, refusing to dissipate.

The taxi behind them honked twice. Feng Hechi glanced back, patted Manna’s shoulder, and gestured for her to go home first.

Manna didn’t speak. She slowly released her grip on his shirt, waved goodbye, and got into the taxi.

Only after the taxi’s taillights disappeared around the corner did Feng Hechi turn back to face Lu Cang.

“You want to hurt her.”

“Hurt an innocent woman who barely knows you.”

Lu Cang stood motionless, saying nothing. But from his expression, Feng Hechi could tell he felt no remorse whatsoever.

Perhaps he was regretting not acting sooner.

“How did you find this place?” Feng Hechi asked coldly, suppressing the strange feeling in his heart as he glared at the young man who had stopped before him.

Lu Cang’s smile deepened at the question, and he raised his phone.

Before he could speak, Feng Hechi instantly understood everything, his expression darkening.

“You deliberately spilled soup on the table to damage my phone and install a tracking device.”

He’s truly clever, Lu Cang thought. He figured it out in an instant. He’s nothing like that other man.

“Why did you do this?” Feng Hechi demanded, his gaze heavy.

Perhaps it’s a consequence of the increased hatred value, Lu Cang mused.

He tilted his head, his expression utterly matter-of-fact. “I wanted to know why you come home so late every night. Where are you going? Is there a problem?”

This… lunatic, Feng Hechi thought, his realization solidifying once again.

He couldn’t tell if this behavior stemmed from his own actions in completing his mission, or if it was a result of Lu Cang’s traumatic childhood experiences with his biological family.

He was utterly insane, a complete lunatic.

Whether it was his attempt to kill Feng Hechi or his swift decision to commit suicide after failing.

Or the way he installed a tracking app on Feng Hechi’s phone as if it were perfectly normal.

Or how he lurked in the dead of night for hours, all to murder a woman he’d only met once.

It was enough to make one’s hair stand on end.

For the first time, Feng Hechi truly understood the meaning of “nurturing the ultimate villain.”

“Hey System, what’s going on here?” He asked inwardly, his expression remaining impassive, but his tone betraying a hint of urgency.

According to our analysis, this behavior is a potential consequence of the target’s stat growth, influenced by the host’s mission actions. It cannot be predicted in advance. Please adapt to the situation as it unfolds.

…This useless System.

Feng Hechi snapped back to reality, his gaze returning to the youth before him.

He had moved several steps closer, now standing within arm’s reach.

“Stay right there. If you don’t want another slap.”

Feng Hechi’s icy stare pinned him in place.

Hearing this, Lu Cang stopped in his tracks.

Looks like he still has some sense left, Feng Hechi thought.

Just as Feng Hechi was thinking this, Lu Cang’s lips parted slightly, and he spoke again.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Feng Hechi froze.

The youth before him, with his pale skin, the faint pink of his peach blossom eyes, and the lingering marks on his face, resembled a bewitching and unsettling painting.

Lu Cang’s lips curled into a smile as he fixed his burning gaze on Feng Hechi.

“Feng Hechi, it’s not painful enough.”

This was the first time Lu Cang had addressed him by name. His voice was low, carrying the unique rasp of a young man’s voice, yet his words were measured and deliberate.

It was as if he had savored the simple three syllables, rolling them over his tongue before finally releasing them.

Feng Hechi retracted his earlier thought.

This kid really is insane.

Expressionless, Feng Hechi lowered his gaze to the youth, who stood nearly half a head shorter than him.

Then, slowly raising his hand, he delivered another crisp slap to the other side of Lu Cang’s face.

This time, he used twice the force as before. When he withdrew his hand, his palm tingled with redness and numbness.

Lu Cang’s frail frame couldn’t withstand such force. He staggered several steps before collapsing to the ground.

As he lowered his head, his black hair obscured most of his face, yet Feng Hechi still noticed the crimson bl00d seeping from the corner of his mouth.

“Was that painful enough this time?”

Feng Hechi showed no intention of crouching down, maintaining his lofty, condescending posture as he gazed down at Lu Cang. His voice was as cold as snow that had remained frozen for years.

Seeing Lu Cang still silent, head bowed and refusing to answer, Feng Hechi stepped forward. His fingers gripped the black hair at Lu Cang’s forehead, applying slight pressure to force him to look up.

What a wretched sight.

Feng Hechi lowered his gaze to scrutinize Lu Cang’s face, his eyes drifting casually over the large red welts on his pale skin.

His fingers slid down to cradle Lu Cang’s chin, his thumb tracing lightly across the boy’s lips, leaving a faint warmth in its wake.

The youth’s ashen, bloodless lips parted slightly, unconsciously. The faint bloodstains at the corner of his mouth were nearly dry, clearly the result of his teeth having grazed the skin earlier.

Lu Cang’s bangs were completely swept back by the movement, fully revealing his exquisite eyes. He didn’t avert his gaze, staring directly at Feng Hechi as if trying to discern something from him.

Just as Feng Hechi was about to assume Lu Cang would remain silent, the youth suddenly parted his lips slightly.

“Would you do this to anyone else?” he asked, his voice as light as a feather floating on a lake’s surface.

Feng Hechi’s phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, his tone as detached as ever.

“Of course not.”

After all, no one else would be as insane as Lu Cang, eagerly seeking another slap after already receiving one.

“Then… you only do this to me.”

The youth’s voice rose like mist into the air, carrying an eerie, almost joyful undercurrent.

He suddenly raised a hand and gently covered the back of Feng Hechi’s hand, the one supporting his chin.

The icy touch sent a chill through Feng Hechi’s skin. He frowned as the hand on his back slowly tightened, as if trying to grasp his hand—and him entirely—in its grip.

“I’m so happy,” the youth murmured, his lips parting slightly. The bloodstain at the corner of his mouth stood out starkly against his pale lips, like a misplaced brushstroke in an oil painting.

The hand resting on Feng Hechi’s back slowly tightened, then tightened again, until it was almost gripping his hand firmly.

A smile curved Lu Cang’s lips.

Feng Hechi watched his movements coldly, observing Lu Cang as if he were possessed. Lu Cang smiled, clutching his hand in his icy palm, then leaned forward slightly, pressing his swollen, reddened cheek against Feng Hechi’s hand.

The inflamed cheek felt faintly warm, leaving a slightly burning sensation as it brushed against Feng Hechi’s palm.

The movement was gentle and deliberate, like a stray cat rubbing its head against a human’s leg, relentlessly seeking affection.

“You treat me differently from others. I’m so happy,” Lu Cang whispered, his voice drifting and cloying, as if vines were sprouting from his throat, coiling upward along Feng Hechi’s arm.

“System, is his mental state compromised?” Feng Hechi mentally called out to the System, his temple throbbing.

Analysis complete. Target’s mental state is normal. No other abnormalities detected.

The System’s mechanical voice echoed in his mind, utterly devoid of emotion.

“Is that so? He seems quite ill to me.”

Feng Hechi replied coldly, then refocused his attention on the situation before him. Lu Cang’s grip on his hand was like that of a drowning man clinging to a lifeline, so tight that Feng Hechi could feel the knuckles of his curled fingers aching faintly.

What is this? Lu Cang’s Stockholm Syndrome?

He couldn’t think of any other explanation for Lu Cang’s behavior.

Feng Hechi exerted a slight force, attempting to withdraw his hand from the youth’s clenched palm. But the moment he made the slightest move, Lu Cang’s grip tightened further, giving him no chance to break free.

“Tch.”

Feng Hechi narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

His free hand ruthlessly raked through Lu Cang’s soft black hair, yanking upward to force the youth to tilt his head back, separating his cheek from the hand he was gripping.

The pale curve of Lu Cang’s neck strained taut, the thin skin revealing the blue veins beneath, and his Adam’s apple bobbed violently.

“Had enough?” Feng Hechi asked coldly, his lashes lowered as he casually observed Lu Cang’s disheveled state.

At some point, Lu Cang had shifted from sitting on the ground to kneeling, his black pants rubbing against the concrete floor, picking up yellowish-gray dust.

The awkward position made it impossible for Lu Cang to maintain his balance. He had no choice but to release his tightly clenched hand from Feng Hechi’s grip.

Hearing Feng Hechi’s words, the smile on Lu Cang’s lips didn’t fade in the slightest. Even his breath carried a faint tremor.

“Not enough,” he murmured, the final syllable lingering with a damp, feverish heat.

Feng Hechi’s only relief was that the bar had closed for the night, and no one was passing through the alley at the moment.

Why waste words on someone mentally unstable?

Feng Hechi withdrew his hand from Lu Cang’s dark hair, crossed his arms, and said flatly, “Stand up.”

Lu Cang obediently pushed himself up from the ground, a soft groan of pain escaping his lips as he straightened his knees.

His current state was utterly disheveled.

His black clothes were stained with dirt in multiple places, his cheeks and the corners of his eyes flushed faintly red, and the bl00d at the corner of his mouth had already crusted over.

Taking him home in this condition would likely result in a well-meaning taxi driver taking them straight to the police station, Feng Hechi thought.

He glanced at Lu Cang, then shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over.

“Put this on. Zip it up.”

Lu Cang caught the jacket, paused for a moment, then lowered his gaze and slipped it on.

Lu Cang was half a head shorter than Feng Hechi, his frame even more slender. Feng Hechi’s coat hung several sizes too large on him, draping loosely over his body. Combined with the marks on his face, it made him look even more pitiful.

Feng Hechi sized him up, let out a heavy sigh, and strode over to Lu Cang. He reached out and pulled the hood that had been tucked inside the coat as Lu Cang dressed.

“So you’re not just mentally challenged, you can’t even put on clothes properly?”

With that, he raised his hand and pulled the hood over Lu Cang’s head, tugging the brim down with both hands. The oversized hood drooped loosely, completely obscuring the boy’s face.

Satisfied that there were no visible signs of anything amiss, Feng Hechi turned away, his voice cold.

“Let’s go home.”

Lu Cang stood motionless, watching Feng Hechi’s retreating figure walk toward the roadside.

The coat carried the faint, clean scent of laundry detergent, tinged with the sweet aroma of fruit wine. As the hood settled over him, it enveloped his entire being in the comforting scent.

The coat, recently removed from the man’s body, still retained its warmth. Lu Cang huddled into it, feeling as if even his perpetually icy hands had absorbed a hint of warmth.

He chuckled softly, tugged the hood tighter, and stepped forward to follow Feng Hechi’s silhouette toward the roadside.

The door slammed shut with a bang, triggering the motion-sensor lights in the hallway. The dim, yellowish glow flickered twice before finally illuminating the cluttered, dilapidated stairwell.

Inside the apartment, separated by a single door, Feng Hechi tossed his keys onto the table with a clatter. He walked to the coffee table, picked up a glass, and took a sip of water that had long since gone cold.

Working the night shift was already exhausting enough, and now Lu Cang had pulled this stunt.

If the System hadn’t assured him that his body was perfectly healthy and normal within the mission world, his heart might have started to ache again.

Setting down the glass, he turned to find Lu Cang still standing quietly behind him, showing no intention of leaving and still dutifully wearing his hat. The brim shadowed most of his face, making it impossible to discern his expression.

Feng Hechi did have something he wanted to say, something about Shen Wenyu.

After seeing them today, he was now completely convinced that Lu Cang had deliberately pushed Shen Wenyu down the stairs, causing his injury.

Given Lu Cang’s current reckless behavior, Feng Hechi feared something terrible might happen to Shen Wenyu if he continued to turn a blind eye.

The protagonist of the mission world had died…

Feng Hechi didn’t want to dwell on the consequences.

He sighed, walked over to the sofa, and sat down, looking up at Lu Cang.

“How’s school going?”

Lu Cang froze, surprised by the question.

“I… it’s okay,” he replied hesitantly, keeping his answer brief.

Shen Wenyu certainly wouldn’t agree, Feng Hechi thought, his gaze fixed on Lu Cang.

Noticing that Lu Cang was still wearing his coat, Feng Hechi nodded toward it. “You can take the coat off now that you’re back.”

At these words, Lu Cang’s hand instinctively clutched the collar before he lowered his head and obediently removed the coat. When he took off the hood, his hair was a mess, flattened against his head.

Feng Hechi reached out to take the coat, but Lu Cang hugged it to his chest, as if unwilling to return it.

“…What are you doing?” Feng Hechi’s brow twitched again.

“The coat got dirty. I’ll wash it and give it back to you,” Lu Cang said softly, avoiding his gaze.

Fine, it’s just a coat.

Feng Hechi, too lazy to argue further, waved his hand dismissively. He leaned back against the sofa, his expression returning to its usual cold indifference.

“Don’t cause trouble at school.”

Lu Cang’s hand, hidden beneath his clothes, suddenly tightened, his gaze sharpening instantly.

Feng Hechi had never asked about his school life before, let alone given such a sudden instruction.

Did someone tell him something?

Shen Wenyu.

The thought flashed through Lu Cang’s mind, his expression turning venomously cold.

It seems I was too lenient.

“Your homeroom teacher mentioned last time that you don’t get along well with your classmates. You don’t have many friends, do you?”

Lu Cang froze, the sinister glint in his eyes vanishing instantly.

So it was the homeroom teacher who said that.

Of course. I’ve heard her mention sending messages to parents about their children’s behavior in class. But she couldn’t possibly know anything about what happened between Shen Wenyu and me.

I was overthinking it.

Feng Hechi subtly observed Lu Cang’s expression from the corner of his eye. Seeing the boy’s face shift from its earlier malevolence back to its usual composure, he finally let out a sigh of relief.

The Home Room Teacher, of course, hadn’t discussed Lu Cang’s situation with him. Even if he had come to relay information, he would have only praised Lu Cang’s excellent grades.

Fortunately, Feng Hechi knew Lu Cang well enough to easily discern his thoughts from his subtle gestures.

Just now, Lu Cang was likely wondering if Shen Wenyu had come to Feng Hechi to discuss this matter.

“I’ve paid a fortune for your tuition,” Feng Hechi said coldly, his tone as usual, tinged with annoyance. “You’d better stay put and focus on your studies. If I hear you’ve caused any trouble, you’ll be pulled out of school. Understand?”

“I understand,” Lu Cang replied obediently, lowering his head. His expression was completely docile, showing no trace of the frenzy he had displayed at the bar entrance earlier.

He had previously asked Shen Wenyu to avoid contacting him as much as possible. Judging by this, at least Shen Wenyu shouldn’t be in any serious trouble.

Feng Hechi waved his hand, signaling Lu Cang to leave, his expression weary.

But Lu Cang showed no intention of leaving.

“Anything else?”

Feng Hechi shot him a sidelong glance.

Lu Cang didn’t back down, his voice low as he asked, “Why did that woman come to see you?”

He’s still thinking about this? Feng Hechi frowned. “What’s it to you?”

Lu Cang seemed to have anticipated this response, his voice remaining steady. “I saw you two hugging.”

Feng Hechi froze.

So Lu Cang had arrived at the bar early, waiting until closing time before following Manna out. He’d been lurking in the bar, in a spot where Feng Hechi couldn’t see him, quietly lying in wait for hours just to get his hands on Manna?

“Do you like her?” Lu Cang’s blunt question cut through Feng Hechi’s thoughts. He looked up to see Lu Cang take a step closer, his face still expressionless.

This kid…

Why was he always so fixated on Manna?