Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"023"

The four men hauled Xiao Lancui into the cold storage, and within moments, all of them rushed out, jostling to be first. One shivered as he said, "Holy shit, it's freezing in there. Fucking cold! Lock the door quick!"

Another guy lingered with reluctance, sighing, "Ugh, he's really beautiful. Such a shame to dump him here to freeze to death."

"Fuck! You fucking queer," another laughed and cursed. "Show some backbone, will you? Killing him gets us two million. With money like that, plenty of guys will be dropping their pants and begging for it."

The guy sighed again. "You don't get it—a face like this is a rare find."

"No matter how pretty, he's still a man. I'm not into that shit. I just want him dead so I can get paid sooner."

The only guy who'd kept quiet suddenly piped up, "Let's just strip him bare—he'll freeze to death quicker!"

"Dumbass!" Two of them shouted at him simultaneously. "Strip him, and how the hell do we make it look like an accident?"

The guy curled his lip and went quiet. Meanwhile, the man who'd spoken first snatched up the padlock and slammed the iron door shut. His lips had already gone blue from the cold. "I can't stand it. Let's get out of here before we get caught."

The four of them strolled off, laughing and joking.

Lu Ao stayed behind.

He was waiting for the fake to be good and dead.

He put his knife away. The cafeteria's cold storage sat in the school's most isolated corner, ringed by dense, towering trees. The cold wind sliced through the trees, yet Lu Ao felt nothing. He pulled out a new phone, fiddled with it briefly, and quickly got the hang of it.

He searched for things that would please Xiao Lancui.

Books, calligraphy brushes, rice paper...

Ink priced at ten thousand yuan a gram.

It was then that something human finally flickered in his eyes—soft, tender—as he smiled and placed order after order.

When he was done, he'd take it all back to the tomb.

His Lanlan would love them.

As time dragged on, Xiao Lancui was shocked awake by the cold.

Bone-deep cold engulfed him, seeping from his core, as if his very organs were freezing solid.

Xiao Lancui lay flat on the icy floor, motionless to save his strength.

After waking, a brief haze—but within three seconds, his brain was already analyzing his surroundings.

Those bastards had locked him in the cold storage.

Dragging a live body, they wouldn't go out of their way—he was probably still on campus.

Right now, he was—

The cafeteria's freezer.

A thin rime of frost had already crusted his lashes. Xiao Lancui looked up. The lights were off; only a small window on the left wall let in a sliver of light—enough to make out his surroundings.

Neat shelves stocked with food, the smell of frozen meat and supplies hanging in the air—all confirmed Xiao Lancui's guess.

He was definitely in the school's freezer.

It was after hours, and the freezer staff had all gone home. Those men meant for him to freeze to death right here.

Xiao Lancui immediately dismissed forcing the door—he'd never have the strength to break out.

He breathed steadily, rifling through his mind for anything useful. Modern freezers were nothing like the ancient icehouses—they used all sorts of modern equipment.

What he could exploit—

An ammonia leak.

In ancient times, they stored ice to cool things; now, they used refrigeration units with liquid ammonia as the coolant.

Liquid ammonia hits the air and violently vaporizes into ammonia gas.

If he could leak just a bit of liquid ammonia from the coolant pipe, the gas would trip the alarm. City University was a prestigious century-old school with a 24/7 monitoring room, linked directly to the 119 fire dispatch.

Even if the guard was slacking off, the firefighters would still show.

With his plan locked in, Xiao Lancui first found the coolant pipe.

The freezer was dark and hard to see in, and his eyes stung. He didn't waste energy trying to look. His lashes were crusted with ice, so he shut his eyes, replaying the freezer's layout from what he'd seen.

Left wall, near the floor—copper pipes.

Xiao Lancui stirred. He tried to move his fingers, but all ten were frozen solid, useless for gripping. So he pressed both palms flat to the floor. His body was numb, but he slowly, methodically rubbed his palms against the ground. As seconds ticked by, feeling gradually returned to his palms, and his finger bones began to move again.

Xiao Lancui blinked his frosted lashes and slowly opened his eyes. In that instant, he pushed himself up with his elbows, joints cracking audibly a few times, and forced himself to his feet in one surge.

His body was too stiff, and he nearly fell again. Xiao Lancui's left hand shot out to grab a shelf beside him, steadying his swaying frame.

The metal shelf was freezing cold. Xiao Lancui used it for support as he shifted to lean against it, freeing his other hand to pull off his scarf. Cold air immediately rushed into his neck from all directions. He frowned and endured it—right now, his hands were his only tools, and he needed to ensure they could function.

He wrapped the scarf around his right hand, bundling it tightly to restore warmth. After winding it around and tying the first knot, he could only use his left hand, and his strength was weak. He lowered his head toward his right hand, parted his lips—cold air curling from his breath—and gently bit down on one end of the scarf. His left hand looped around to tie the knot, then he pulled his head back and yanked it tight. He released his lips and panted softly.

That simple action had drained most of his strength.

He tilted his head back, ignoring the cold biting at his scalp, and slowly regulated his breathing. Once somewhat steady, he gripped the shelf with his scarf-wrapped right hand and hurried toward the left wall.

Sure enough, he found the refrigeration pipe.

He moved to the pipe, running his left hand over the copper surface, and quickly located the weld seam.

He reached into his pocket and soon found the key to his rental apartment.

It hadn't fallen out.

He let out a soft breath. Transferring the key to his right hand, he flexed the joints of his left hand and tucked it into his pocket to warm up. His right hand gripped the key through the scarf. His vision was too blurry, so he bent down, leaning close, staring at the ring of weld, and pressed the key's edge against a precise point, slowly scraping away.

He worked slowly, controlling his force—to survive until rescue after the ammonia leaked, he could only carve a small crack.

The screeching metallic sound was grating and nerve-wracking, but Xiao Lancui remained calm throughout. He kept his eyes fixed on the point where the key pressed, metal shavings gradually falling into the scarf. He patiently scraped at the copper pipe until a slightly crisp sound—he stopped.

He pulled the key away, leaned in close to the pile of shavings, and gently brushed them aside with the scarf. In the dim light, a thin, gleaming line faintly shimmered in the darkness.

His body temperature continued to drop, and his strength was spent on that single crack. Still, he mustered the energy to shake his right hand, trying to dislodge the shavings inside. Two seconds later, he grabbed the shelf and shuffled away, until he could walk no further. Exhausted, he leaned against a shelf and slowly sank down.

His down jacket had gone cold too. Xiao Lancui could feel the last of his warmth draining away. He closed his eyes wearily, mentally counting the seconds as he waited for the liquid ammonia to seep through the crack, spread enough of its smell once it hit the air, and trigger the concentration detector, which would set off the alarm.

It wouldn't take long, but it wouldn't be quick either—about five to ten minutes.

With time to spare, Xiao Lancui turned some of his attention to figuring out who had hired the four men.

Clearly, they'd been hired to kill him.

He ruled out Xiao Jingli right away.

Seconds before it happened, he'd been on the phone with Xiao Jingli, and the panic in Xiao Jingli's voice when he'd recalled those memory fragments was real. If Xiao Jingli had set this up, he wouldn't have bothered with such genuine emotion.

Who'd bother putting on a show for a dead man?

Next, he ruled out Lu Ao.

If it were really Lu Ao, he wouldn't use such cheap tricks.

That left Xie Jingfang and Lu Siye.

Both had plenty of reason to kill him.

He counted to 300. His nostrils twitched. He opened his eyes and buried his face in his scarf. Almost at the same moment, a sharp, acrid smell burst into the air as the alarm blared and flashed red.

He covered his nose, but the stench was still there, sharp and sickening.

He closed his eyes, panting, and gripped his neck.

The dull pain kept him conscious.

But he was too cold, and this body was in way too bad a shape.

He couldn't feel the pain anymore. He was even starting to lose the cold, going numb fast.

He closed his eyes, calm.

His mind started to drift. He didn't know how long it was before he heard hurried footsteps and a lock clicking open.

He didn't look up. He hugged his knees and heard a shocked yell: "Holy shit! There's someone in here!!!!"

Footsteps rushed over. An arm, cold from the air, somehow brought a hint of warmth he hadn't felt in ages. Someone grabbed him and called out, "Hey, hey, kid! Can you hear me?"

He lifted his head a little. His half-open eyes caught a flash of light, and he shut them again. The guy got excited and turned to someone else. "He's alive! He's alive! He just opened his eyes!"

He opened his eyes again and looked at the guard, who was beaming. He gave a faint smile. "Help me out, please. I've got no strength left."

The security guard carried him out on his back.

Breathing in the cold night air, he felt like he'd come back to life again. He thanked the guard and was about to leave when he heard him say to another, "Call 120, quick! He's got frostbite!"

He stopped him, slid off the guard's back, and barely managed to stand. "I'm fine, thanks."

The guard who'd carried him out looked at his face. "You gotta go. You're white as a sheet."

He refused again. "I just need to rest a bit."

Since he was talking clearly, the guard nodded and couldn't help asking, "How'd you end up in the freezer?"

He still hadn't confirmed who'd hired the killers. If it was Xie Jingfang, calling the cops would blow things up and ruin his plan. He smiled. "I came to drop something off and didn't get out in time. Thanks, both of you. I'll head off now."

"Can you even walk?" the other guard asked. "Why not wait here for the fire truck?"

He declined, noted both guards' names, and slowly walked toward the school gate.

In the woods, Lu Ao watched Xiao Lancui's retreating back, his eyes cold as frost.

This fake was surprisingly hard to kill.

After finishing the last gold brush, Lu Ao pocketed his phone and quickly followed.

The campus was still a ways off, and the streetlights were dim. After the freezer, his eyes were worse, and his vision was starting to blur.

He kept his eyes on the ground and walked slowly.

He figured people shouldn't jinx themselves. He'd just set it up for Xiao Jingli to take him to the hospital tomorrow, and now he actually needed his eyes checked.

He suspected the eye issue was a leftover from the original body falling into the sea. At the hospital earlier, he'd skipped the eye exam.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice a tall, dark figure silently closing in behind him.

About three meters out, Lu Ao flexed his palm, ready to slide an 11-gauge razor blade out of his sleeve. The blade, thin as a cicada's wing, could kill in an instant with one light cut across the throat.

But the blade didn't drop into his palm.

Lu Ao realized it had fallen out. Modern sleeves didn't have hidden pockets like ancient ones, and the blade was so thin it must've slipped out while he was in the woods messing with his phone.

Lu Ao's face darkened.

He didn't want to snap the fake's neck with his bare hands. It was filthy.

The first time, at the hospital, he'd only touched the fake's skin because he wasn't fully awake.

Just thinking about touching that neck made him sick. He wiped his palm over and over, disgusted, while scanning for something that could kill in one hit.

He found it in a second.

Lu Ao strode to the campus bus stop sign. A single sign stood by the road, not tall—a few centimeters shorter than him—a rectangular iron plate listing the bus times and the local name: Clearwater Lake.

Across a strip of greenery was Clearwater Lake, unique to City University. It was a stretch of running water, with a faint, ghostly sound of currents in the still air.

Convenient for dumping a body after the kill.

But Lu Ao had no intention of dumping the body. He wouldn't touch that disgusting thing twice. And he didn't need to—after killing the fake, he'd take gifts back to the tomb and kill himself again, to be with Xiao Lancui for eternity.

With one swift, silent motion, he snapped off a piece of the iron sign the size of an ID card and caught it in his hand.

Clutching the piece of iron, Lu Ao stepped back onto the sidewalk and caught up to Xiao Lancui in the blink of an eye.