Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 363 – Change of Plans

Lin Fan looked down from above at Long Yanran, who was curled up on the ground.

This woman had once been the jewel in Long Yan’s palm. To curry favor with the Pureblood Dragon Clan, she had pushed Long Yan into the abyss without a moment’s hesitation.

Now, her once-gorgeous dress was stained with dust, dirt caked under her fingernails, her forehead pressed against the cold stone floor—she didn’t even dare to think of resisting.

A faint twitch tugged at the corner of Lin Fan’s mouth.

If Long Yan were standing here, seeing this scene, what expression would he have?

It didn’t matter anymore.

Long Yanran’s body trembled violently.

She had just taken a kick and instinctively raised her head, her gaze colliding with that pair of icy golden vertical pupils.

Her black-purple hair whipped wildly in the wind. The oppressive, sinister pressure belonging to Fifth Elder Long Xuan pressed down directly on Long Yanran’s spine.

The color drained from Long Yanran’s face in an instant, leaving it deathly pale.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, swallowing back the cry of pain that was about to escape, a choked gurgling sound rattling in her throat.

Long Ao was about to deliver a second kick when his peripheral vision caught that purple figure. His leg froze mid-air, his waist twisting as he forcibly pulled it back. The ferocity that had been plastered across his face instantly gave way to a fawning smile. He bent his spine, hands clasped together in front of his chest.

“Long Ao pays respects to the Fifth Elder!” His voice boomed with twelve parts reverence. “You’ve returned!”

Lin Fan didn’t even lift an eyelid. Her gaze passed over the top of Long Ao’s head, fixing on the majestic cluster of palaces in the distance.

Sweat beaded on Long Ao’s forehead.

Everyone in the Dragon Emperor Hall knew the Fifth Elder’s temper—one wrong word and she’d go berserk.

He had to find some topic to break this deadly silence.

“Fifth Elder, you’ve finally come back.” Long Ao lowered his voice, leaning half a step closer. “Things haven’t been peaceful in the hall lately.”

Lin Fan’s gaze finally landed on him.

“Oh?”

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The voice was hoarse with a hint of husky allure—distinctly Long Xuan’s.

Long Ao swallowed hard and hurriedly continued: “The Third Elder went out with you, but still hasn’t returned. The Grand Elder has urgent business with you both, but no one could reach either of you.”

He glanced left and right, lowering his voice even further. “Just this morning, the Grand Elder threw a massive fit in the Council Hall!”

Lin Fan’s pupils constricted for a fleeting moment.

Ten days.

Only ten days had passed since she crushed Long Jingtian’s throat.

The border city was ten thousand li from the Dragon Emperor Hall. By conventional channels, news of an elder’s death would never reach here within half a month.

Did the Dragon Clan have a special communication method? Or something akin to a life tablet?

Lin Fan quickly rifled through Long Xuan’s memory vault.

Nothing. There was no record of life tablets in Long Xuan’s memories at all. The Council of Elders must have some secret channel she didn’t know about.

“Understood.”

Lin Fan dropped three words, her tone utterly flat.

She took a step forward, her black leather boots striking the stone slabs with crisp, sharp sounds.

She walked past Long Ao, heading straight for the central district of the Dragon Emperor Hall.

There was no point in investigating the source of the information now.

The Grand Elder, Long Zhan—Long Xuan’s own elder brother—was in the Council Hall. She had to get there immediately.

What she needed to play next was a survivor who had just endured a great battle and escaped death by a hair’s breadth.

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance.

Long Ao straightened his back and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with one hand. He turned his head, looking at Long Yanran still sprawled on the ground.

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“What are you staring at! Get the hell over here!”

The shoe slammed viciously into Long Yanran’s ribs, a dull crack of bone echoing through the air.

A shrill, agonized scream tore from Long Yanran’s throat.

Lin Fan walked along the broad white jade causeway, the smell of sulfur growing heavier with each step. Dragon Clan guards and attendants passed by constantly, all pausing to bow their heads in deference. Countless gazes—curious, reverent, and probing—converged in the shadows.

Lin Fan could clearly perceive every one of those looks. The upper echelons of the Dragon Emperor Hall had evidently sensed something amiss; this tense atmosphere had already seeped down to the lowest ranks.

The doors to the Council Hall were sealed shut, their heavy bronze surfaces carved with intricate dragon motifs. Roaring voices leaked through the cracks between the doors.

Lin Fan halted, pressing her body against the icy bronze.

“Damn it, that mark lit up!”

A gruff voice bellowed—it was Grand Elder Long Zhan.

Then—

Bang!

A heavy object slammed onto a hardwood table, the sound of splintering wood unmistakable.

“Grand Elder, calm yourself.” Another voice spoke, slow in cadence, soft and sinister in tone—it was Second Elder Long Ye. “Are you saying that the Golden Dragon Mark you placed on that traitor fifteen years ago has reacted?”

Lin Fan narrowed her eyes.

Golden Dragon Mark. Traitor.

So back then, when Long Zhan had hunted down Long Yi, he’d left a contingency on him. As long as Long Yi reverted to his Golden Dragon True Form, the mark would trigger.

The battle in the Death Marsh not long ago—when Long Yi regained his memories and transformed into a Five-Clawed Golden Dragon—that must have been when he was exposed.

“Nonsense!” Long Zhan’s voice rose again. “That mark was cast with my heart’s blood—how could I sense it wrong? Just a few days ago, I definitely felt the mark pulse, even if only for an instant!”

Heavy footsteps paced back and forth across the hall, betraying Long Zhan’s extreme agitation.

“I knew that scourge wasn’t dead. And now, just when we need every hand we can get, that fool Long Jingtian has vanished with Xuan’er—said something about hunting a Demonic Dragon. It’s been half a month with no word at all. Long Teng hasn’t sent a single message, and the scouts we dispatched haven’t returned either.”

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Two coughs echoed through the hall, followed by the Fourth Elder’s voice.

“Grand Elder, Border Dragon City is far from here—it’s only natural we can’t reach them. The Third Elder is rank eight, and while the Fifth Elder’s combat strength is somewhat lacking, his Mental Strength is formidable. With the two of them working together, unless they run into some ancient monster, there’s nothing on this continent that could stop them.”

“Unless they run into an ancient monster?” Long Zhan’s cold laugh pierced through the bronze door. “If that traitor is still alive, his strength has probably long since recovered. If Long Jingtian truly runs into him…”

The voice trailed off, but the unfinished sentence plunged the entire hall into silence.

Outside the door, Lin Fan’s mind raced.

The Council of Elders knows Long Yi is alive. They’ve even sensed his location.

In that case… the original plan of lying low is no longer viable. The situation needs to be thrown into greater chaos.

Lin Fan channeled the energy within her body, forcing her Qi-Blood to flow in reverse. Her normally rosy cheeks instantly drained of color, turning as pale as paper.

She raised her hand, fingers roughly digging into her voluminous purple curls, tugging and twisting. Her hair became a disheveled mess, strands clinging to her pallid cheeks. Her fingers moved to her collar and yanked hard.

Riiip—

The leather tore, and a button flew off, striking the bronze door, revealing a large expanse of fair skin. She mercilessly pinched hard several times below her collarbone, and purple-red bruises quickly surfaced.

The pain came—if you’re going to put on an act, you have to commit to it fully.

She forced herself to change her breathing rhythm—short, erratic, her chest heaving violently.

In a matter of seconds, she suppressed Lin Fan’s rationality and became Long Xuan—a woman who would give up everything for Long Teng, who had just witnessed her beloved die a tragic death and was now on the verge of mental collapse.

Lin Fan raised her right leg, muscles tensing, power surging into her leather boot.

Bang!

With a thunderous crash, the heavy bronze door was kicked open by sheer force. The two door panels slammed violently against the walls on either side, sending dust raining down.

The arguing inside the hall instantly ceased. Three powerful auras locked onto the doorway at the same moment.

Long Zhan stood at the long table, his right hand still frozen in the position of having just slammed the table.

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Long Ye sat in his chair, teacup raised halfway to his lips, the tea rippling with tiny waves. The Fourth Elder stood in the shadows, his murky eyes snapping open, a sharp glint flashing through them.

Lin Fan stepped across the threshold, her steps unsteady, her body swaying as if about to collapse. She stumbled forward two paces, her knees giving way as she pitched forward.

“Xuan’er!”

Long Zhan recognized the newcomer’s face, and his stern expression vanished instantly, replaced by sheer panic. A purple figure crossed the dozen or so meters in an instant, appearing before Lin Fan. His thick, muscular arms caught her falling body steadily.

“What happened to you?!” Long Zhan’s voice trembled. His gaze swept over Lin Fan’s disheveled hair, her deathly pale cheeks, and the bruises at her collar. “Where’s Long Jingtian?! Weren’t you two together?!”

Lin Fan slowly raised her head. Her golden vertical pupils were unfocused, shot through with bloodshot veins.

Tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes, large droplets rolling down her face, smearing her eye makeup. Black eyeliner mixed with tears left two stark trails across her pallid cheeks.

“Dead…”

Her voice was terrifyingly hoarse, every word seeming to be squeezed from her throat.

“They’re all dead…”

The air in the hall froze completely. Long Ye set down his teacup. The Fourth Elder stepped out from the shadows.

Long Zhan’s arms stiffened abruptly, his fingers gripping Lin Fan’s shoulders tightening involuntarily until his knuckles turned white.

“Who’s dead?! Tell me clearly!” Long Zhan’s roar echoed through the hall.

“Brother Teng…”

Lin Fan’s body trembled violently as she let out a wail of anguish, going completely limp in Long Zhan’s arms.

Her hands clutched desperately at Long Zhan’s arms, her nails tearing through his sleeves and digging deep into his flesh. Blood seeped out.

“Brother Teng is dead… My Brother Teng… he’s gone.”

The piercing cries of grief echoed through the council hall. Long Zhan stood frozen in place. Long Ye shot to his feet. The Fourth Elder closed his eyes.

These tearful words left the elders of the Dragon Emperor Hall utterly stunned.