Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"024"

The thin iron edges were jagged and uneven, casting uneven, jagged glints of cold light under the dim streetlight.

Xiao Lancui glanced sideways—no one was there.

Were his eyes acting up again?

Xiao Lancui furrowed his brows slightly and stopped. The doubling in his vision was getting worse; the entire world blurred beyond recognition, and the streetlight blurred into a hazy halo, neither near nor far. He needed to take his pulse.

He lowered his gaze, flexing his left hand's fingers as they gradually warmed, unwound the scarf wrapped around his right hand, gently rolled up both sleeves, pressed his index and middle fingers to the pulse point on his wrist, and began to take his pulse.

The cold had seeped deep, stagnating his blood and qi.

Maybe the cold had slowed his circulation, cutting off blood flow to his eyes and causing the temporary blur?

Xiao Lancui relaxed a little. He pulled back his hand, took out a handkerchief to cover his mouth, and walked on slowly, coughing softly.

Less than two meters behind him, in the landscaped strip, Lu Ao crouched behind the big-leaved boxwood. His right hand, clenched around the sharp iron shard, was sliced to ribbons, blood pouring down—he felt nothing. His dark eyes gleamed with an eerie light as he stared crazily at the receding, frail figure.

No doubt about it.

That pulse-taking gesture, that spotless white handkerchief.

It was him—it had to be him!

Only Xiao Lancui!

He was alive! Xiao Lancui was alive!

A tidal wave of ecstasy, excitement... countless emotions slammed into Lu Ao all at once...

He fought back the urge, forcing himself to look away from Xiao Lancui. One more second, and he'd rush out and grab him, never letting go.

But he couldn't. Not yet.

He absolutely couldn't show himself to Xiao Lancui now—not like this, not in this state. If Xiao Lancui found out it was him, he'd never love him.

He had to approach him as someone new, a new Lu Ao—a Lu Ao Xiao Lancui could love.

He couldn't stand being just family to Xiao Lancui anymore. He loved him. He wanted him. He would be Xiao Lancui's one and only.

In the chaotic, ecstatic whirl of his mind, only one thought stood out crystal clear.

Every nerve in Lu Ao's face twitched with wild joy—but in an instant, his clothes were drenched in cold sweat from lingering terror.

Fear, dread, and a surging wave of murderous rage washed over him.

He'd almost killed Xiao Lancui.

Those bastards had almost killed him too!

His dark eyes flooded with crimson bloodshot veins. The iron shard in his palm shattered into countless pieces with a sharp crack, the fragments mixing with blood as they dripped from his fingers into the dirt.

Xiao Lancui's footsteps faded. Lu Ao quickly got up and followed, trailing him all the way home.

Xiao Lancui walked out of the school. The street outside was wide and empty—past two in the morning, no people, no cars. He'd lost his phone, and he wasn't about to go back to the Xiao house at this hour. He walked straight down the sidewalk, and seven or eight minutes later, he walked into a hotel.

"I lost my phone." He pulled out the original body's ID. "I want your best single room. Someone will come tomorrow morning to pay."

The front desk clerk was experienced and had seen it all—this wasn't exactly a rare situation. As a lowly employee, if a guest skipped out on the bill, she'd have to pay it herself, so she always turned down such requests.

But today, before she knew it, she'd already booked him a deluxe king room.

This guy definitely wouldn't stiff her...

The clerk even walked Xiao Lancui to the elevator herself.

As the doors were closing, she couldn't help stealing one more look at him. It was the first time she'd seen someone with such an elegant aura.

Even his hair seemed to carry a pure, clean scent!

Xiao Lancui swiped his card and went in. He was exhausted to the limit. He leaned against the sofa to rest, and once his body warmed up, he went into the bathroom and scrubbed himself clean from head to toe.

He smelled like the cold storage—and like those four men.

Xiao Lancui turned off the shower.

He grabbed a disposable towel and wiped the water off his collarbone, thinking back carefully. When that guy with the ether-soaked cloth got close, he'd smelled something like sweet orange, but not natural—there was a faint, sharp chemical edge to it.

Xiao Lancui returned to bed. From his backpack, he pulled out the Matcha Milk Pudding Ice Bread that had been through hell with him, now squished and misshapen. He tore open the wrapper and took small bites of the Ice Bread while turning on the hotel laptop. He opened a browser, searched for a minute or two, and zeroed in on something.

Buprenorphine.

An addictive banned substance.

The men who had bound him were likely regular users of buprenorphine—that was why the scent clung to them so persistently.

Buprenorphine was a strictly controlled psychiatric drug, only available by prescription through legal channels. The injectable form was even more tightly regulated, administered only in hospitals.

Given how addicted that guy was, he must have gotten it through illegal channels.

With a lead on how to find them, Xiao Lancui cleared his browsing history and shut the laptop. He walked to the window—no high-rises here, and the sixth floor gave a clear view of the open night sky. He let his mind rest, savoring the ice bread in small, careful bites.

Really delicious.

He'd have another one tomorrow, too.

With that thought, he looked down at the remaining half, turned it over a few times, and checked the ingredient list. Except for the custard cream, every other ingredient could be found in the Dali era.

Too bad, though.

He was decent at almost everything—except cooking.

Xiao Lancui finished the ice bread, rinsed his mouth, and used a pack of mouthwash. He turned off all the lights except the one by the bed and went to sleep.

Meanwhile, Lu Ao stood downstairs, watching room 602 as the light went out. He murmured, "Rest well."

He turned, and the tenderness on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a savage, brutal viciousness.

Purple Tone Bar.

*

The bar's princes and princesses kept bringing bottles to private room 404. Before long, a drunk man's voice rang out again: "Damn it, none of them are hot enough! Bring out your hottest princes and princesses—I've got money to burn!"

More young men and women filed in, and the raucous laughter got louder and louder. After a while, Zhou Qitao staggered up, yanked aside the guy who was making out with a drink-selling prince, and slurred, "Gaozi, I'm outta here!"

Gao Zi's face was covered in lipstick marks, and he slurred with a lecherous grin, "So many fresh fish here, you're not gonna grab a few before you leave?"

Zhou Qitao leaned in close to Gao Zi, his skin from forehead to neck slick with sweaty, blood-red flush, his voice trembling slightly, "I'm gonna hit up Wu Damin's clinic."

Gao Zi understood immediately—this bastard shot up buprenorphine every day, and his craving was kicking in, so he needed to rush off for a fix. Beside him, the boy's soft, sweet arm wound around him again, cooing, "Bro, hurry up, I need it now..."

Gao Zi couldn't care less about Zhou Qitao now, let out a low growl and started unbuckling his belt as he headed over.

Zhou Qitao was frantic too, his limbs shaking and uncoordinated, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He staggered out of the private room, but before he'd taken two steps, the door to room 402 opened silently, and a hand covered in red welts yanked him inside.

The door closed without a sound.

Before Zhou Qitao could react, an icy chill traced a fine line along the skin just below his Adam's apple. He could even hear his neck skin splitting, but it wasn't continuous—the razor-thin blade seemed to skip, piercing a tiny hole before slicing into another patch of skin.

In an instant, a fine line of blood beads erupted across his neck.

Zhou Qitao looked up in terror and pain, and in the dim light, all he could make out was a molded black mask and a pair of narrow, predatory wolf-like black eyes. Then a hand violently gripped his jaw, with enough force to easily shatter it.

Zhou Qitao wanted to beg for mercy, but when he opened his mouth, only drool dripped out in fear. At the same time, his legs spasmed, the fabric at his inner thighs turned warm and wet, and a pungent, foul stench filled the air—he had pissed himself.

"Please, I have money... spare me," Zhou Qitao sobbed in terror. "I'll give you whatever you want!"

Lu Ao leaned in close, the blade tip stopping at Zhou Qitao's throat. "You've got five minutes. Call the other three in the next room over."

The cold at his throat was more vivid and terrifying than anything else. Zhou Qitao didn't dare move an inch, stammering, "Okay, okay, I swear I'll bring them..."

Five minutes later, four men were thrown into the bathroom of room 402, each bearing hidden internal injuries, unable to move, staring in utter terror at the towering man looming over them.

"What's the guy's name?" Lu Ao took the showerhead off the wall, turned it on, and cold water sprayed over them, nearly freezing the faces of the four men sprawled on the floor.

Zhou Qitao was the worst off—the blood beads on his neck, barely clotted, were reopened by the cold water, and the pain had him screaming in agony. He cried out, "It's Sun Mai! He gave us two million and said all we had to do was lock that student in the cold storage. We didn't do anything else, I swear to God! Please spare me, I won't dare again..."

Lu Ao muttered low, "Sun. Mai."

He tossed aside the showerhead, letting the cold water flood the floor and wash over the backs of the four men. He stepped forward, lifted his foot, and stomped down on Gao Zi's crotch.

Gao Zi—the man who had ogled Xiao Lancui's beauty outside the cold storage. His crotch felt crushed to a pulp, and he let out a pained cry for mercy, but under Lu Ao's cold, low "Quiet," he bit his tongue and dared not make another sound.

Lu Ao said, "He'll come to you in the next few days. Don't make him hunt you down. He asks, you answer. Otherwise, next time, the law won't save you."

He stomped again, and Gao Zi blacked out from the pain on the spot. The other three were ready to swear on their lives immediately, "Got it, got it, got it!"

Lu Ao withdrew his foot, disgustedly wiping the sole clean under the running water. He was about to leave, then turned back.

The three men, who had just relaxed, felt their hearts clench in fear again, all looking up with tearful eyes, begging for Lu Ao to let them go.

Lu Ao said coldly, "If you breathe a single word about seeing me to him—"

He left it hanging, and Zhou Qitao and the other two chorused, "I never saw you!"

They didn't dare point out that with the mask on, they hadn't actually seen his face anyway...

Lu Ao walked to the sink, washed his hands repeatedly, dried them, and left the hotel.

Dawn broke, and Lu Ao tilted his head slightly, smiling at the sky, then looking toward the direction of the hotel.

"Morning, teacher."

Xiao Lancui woke up.

His body still felt off, so he called room service, and breakfast was delivered to his room. He had just finished eating when Xiao Mian arrived, carrying paper bags.

Xiao Mian's face was grim, and he slammed three paper bags down in front of Xiao Lancui, though he didn't dare toss the Chinese medicine packets and set them on the table instead. He said irritably, "I'm not your errand boy—there won't be a third time!"

Xiao Lancui's clothes and shoes spilled partway out of the paper bags, and for once, he didn't get angry.

After all, he who takes food from others must be polite.

On the tea table lay an itemized bill, and he picked up the slip and handed it to Xiao Mian. "Go settle this first. I'll be down soon."

Counting the room charges and various service fees, Xiao Mian laughed in exasperation. "Bro, not only do you have me bringing you clothes at the crack of dawn, but you also want me to pay? Am I signing up for some 'Model Student of the Year' contest?"

Xiao Lancui didn't explain, just said flatly, "That's not all. Day after tomorrow, clear your schedule and come with me somewhere."

Xiao Mian, "..." His mouth opened and closed twice, but curiosity won out. "Where?"

"A black clinic that illegally sells buprenorphine."

Xiao Mian's eyes flickered, and his face felt a little hot. Luckily, his skin was dark, so the flush didn't show. "What's buprenorphine?"

Xiao Lancui gave him a surprised look and said, "A banned drug."

Xiao Mian's eyes went wide, and suddenly he was furious, glaring at Xiao Lancui. "Xiao Lancui, you're insane! You actually—actually inject that stuff!"

The term "banned drug" was enough for Xiao Mian—he had friends in his circle who shot up for thrills and ended up like ghosts. Xiao Mian panicked. "Did that idiot Lu Siye teach you that?"

Xiao Lancui studied Xiao Mian's expression and suddenly smiled.

It was the first time Xiao Mian had seen Xiao Lancui smile like that.

Ever since Xiao Lancui had lost his memory after falling into the sea, he'd only ever mocked or sneered at Xiao Mian—never like this... so calm and at peace.

Xiao Mian froze, staring straight at Xiao Lancui. "Smiling won't help! You quit right now, and I won't tell Dad!"

Xiao Lancui smiled gently. "It's not me."

Xiao Mian's lips curved up, but when he realized he was smiling along with Xiao Lancui, he felt embarrassed and quickly pressed his lips together. "Then who?"

Xiao Lancui said unhurriedly, "The people who kidnapped me last night."