Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 536 – Finally Meeting

Lin Fan’s mind went completely blank.

This was the first time she had experienced this state since her rebirth.

The face before her was far too familiar.

So familiar that it made her fingers tremble.

It was an utterly ordinary face.

The kind you’d forget within three seconds in a crowd.

But Lin Fan could never forget it.

Because it was her face.

It was the face of that useless Lin Fan from her past life—the one who’d sat in a wheelchair and been pushed down the stairs by Liu Ruyan.

Exactly the same.

Even the faint scar on the left brow bone was in precisely the same spot.

“Finally, we meet.”

The man spoke.

His voice was calm, carrying a hint of amusement, his tone utterly casual.

“I waited three hundred years for this meeting.”

Three hundred years.

Those three words slammed into Lin Fan’s ears, and her pupils contracted sharply.

Long Yan stood in front of Lin Fan, his Runic Longblade braced across his chest, the edge aimed at the black-haired man.

“Who are you?!”

The man’s gaze swept across Long Yan’s face.

He looked at Long Yan for two seconds.

His expression was complex—appraising, surprised, and even carrying a hint of an unreadable smile.

“Put the blade down first,” the man said.

Long Yan’s arms tensed even harder.

“I’m asking you a question!”

“You can’t cut me.”

The man didn’t even look at the blade. His gaze remained fixed on Lin Fan.

“You saw what happened to Long Zhan just now. Do you think you’re stronger than him?”

Long Yan clenched his back teeth but didn’t move.

Lin Fan finally reacted.

She reached out, pressed Long Yan’s shoulder, and pushed him behind her.

“Step back.”

“Lei Jie—”

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“Step back.” Lin Fan repeated.

Long Yan gritted his teeth and retreated two paces.

Lin Fan stepped forward.

The distance between her and the man closed to less than ten meters.

Wind swept across the open ground between them, kicking up fine dust and gravel.

“Your face…”

Lin Fan spoke, her voice slightly tight.

She had never spoken in this tone before.

In front of anyone, she was always Lei Li—the one who could control the entire situation.

But now, her vocal cords felt like something was squeezing them.

“I know what you want to ask.”

The man kept his hands in his pants pockets, his posture completely relaxed—no hint of aggression, no trace of wariness.

“You want to ask if I’m Lin Fan.”

The entire scene fell silent.

Su Xiaoxiao’s fingers, gripping the hem of Lin Fan’s trench coat, suddenly tightened.

She looked up at Lin Fan’s profile.

She had never seen this expression on her sister’s face.

“Who are you?” Lin Fan asked.

“My name is Lin Fan,” the man answered without hesitation.

“ID number 3301XXXXXXX, from Hangzhou.”

“Before the Post-apocalypse, I lived in Unit 801, Xingfu Jiayuan Residential Complex.”

“Next door lived a woman named Liu Ruyan.”

Lin Fan’s breath stopped for a beat.

“In the second drawer of your bedside table, there’s a family photo.”

“On the back of the photo, your mother wrote a line in ballpoint pen.”

The man paused.

“‘Xiao Fan, eat well.'”

Lin Fan’s fists clenched suddenly.

That photo—she remembered it.

It was hers.

It was her own possession.

This was a memory that belonged exclusively to Lin Fan herself—a true, genuine memory.

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Yet this person before her had it too.

“What exactly are you?” Lin Fan’s voice dropped low.

The two stood less than ten meters apart.

Wind rolled through the rubble, stirring up a fine haze of dust.

The man’s smile never wavered, perpetually fixed on that utterly unremarkable face.

But what was in those eyes made Lin Fan deeply uncomfortable.

Too familiar.

That kind of gaze that saw through everything, cared about nothing, yet was obsessed with one single thing to the very bone.

She saw it every day in the mirror.

“What exactly are you?”

Lin Fan repeated, her voice low and restrained.

The man tilted his head.

“I told you, I’m Lin Fan.”

He paused.

“However, having spent three hundred years in this world, I have another name.”

He raised his right hand and opened his palm.

There was no Spirit Energy at his fingertips, no glow of elemental power.

But an extremely faint distortion of space was spreading from the center of his palm.

The frequency of that fluctuation was exactly the same as Zhou Ming’s Spatial Ability.

“You can also call me—”

“Long Hao.”

Two words.

They slipped lightly from his lips.

Yet they stirred the entire crowd.

Long Yi stepped back half a pace.

Long Teng’s sword hummed in its sheath.

Long Yan froze, his lips twitching twice without producing a single word.

Su Xiaoxiao shrank behind Long Yan, her small hands clutching his clothes tightly, all color drained from her face.

Long Hao.

He was the source of faith for the Pureblood Dragon Clan, and the one who had set the Blue Star Post-apocalypse in motion.

“…Bullshit!”

Long Yi was the first to speak, her voice tight.

“The Dragon Clan ancestor is of Ancestral bloodline. You don’t even have dragon horns—what kind of dragon are you supposed to be?”

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Long Hao’s gaze swept over Long Yi.

There was a strange gentleness in that look.

“Because I’m not Dragon Clan.”

He said it calmly.

“I never was.”

The entire scene fell into dead silence.

Long Hao withdrew his gaze and settled it back on Lin Fan.

He looked her up and down for two seconds.

“That face of yours…”

There was a hint of emotion in his tone, but more than anything, nostalgia.

“You gave up your own body and merged with Lei Li instead, didn’t you?”

Lin Fan didn’t answer.

But she didn’t deny it either.

Long Hao smiled and shook his head.

“I have to say… your luck is truly remarkable.”

Lin Fan’s brow furrowed.

Good luck?

She stared at the face before her, her mind racing.

She had directly merged with Long Xi, so she hadn’t received any of Long Xi’s memory fragments.

But at the bottom of the lake in the Forest of Elves, she had seen Long Hao’s image on the stone tablet murals.

He was a perfect Ancestral Dragon Clan member with dark-golden dragon horns and golden vertical pupils.

Completely different from the person before her.

This so-called Long Hao in front of her had clearly used some kind of ability to revert to the male face from her previous life.

And his true form should be the Ancestral Dragon Blood belonging to Long Hao.

“You merged with Long Hao’s body as your main form.”

Lin Fan spoke, her tone declarative.

“You devoured everything of the Ancestral Dragon Clan—his bloodline, his talents, his memories.”

“Clever.” Long Hao nodded.

“Only, I was more thorough than you.”

“I used that one and only chance at main-form fusion, completely abandoning the genes of a Blue Star human.”

Lin Fan stared into his eyes.

“Ancestral Dragon Blood as your main form… wouldn’t that be what you’d call good luck?”

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A chill crept into her voice.

“So why do you say the opposite—that I’m the lucky one?”

Long Hao didn’t answer right away.

He rolled his neck, and two crisp cracks sounded from his joints.

“You preserved the dominance of the human bloodline when you merged with Long Xi,” he said slowly.

“So, your Dragon God Physique should be unusable now, right?”

Lin Fan remained silent.

“You think that was the price.”

Long Hao raised a finger and tapped his own temple.

“But what you don’t know is that the human bloodline and Crystal Bone are miracles born from the collision of rules across dimensions.”

“Its ceiling is far higher than that of Ancestral Dragon Blood.”

He pointed at himself.

“Three hundred years ago, I chose Long Hao’s bloodline as my vessel and discarded the human genes that belonged to me.”

He paused, the smile on his face fading as well.

“And then, I got stuck at level nine.”

“For three hundred whole years, I didn’t move an inch.”

Lin Fan’s fingers twitched violently.

Three hundred years.

The same level.

Without the slightest movement.

“You kept that key, while I—I threw it away with my own hands,” Long Hao said.

“So, I say you’re lucky.”

His tone sounded casual.

But Lin Fan could hear it—beneath that casualness, three hundred years of torment were suppressed, along with the last shred of dignity of a madman.

“What do you want from me?” Lin Fan’s voice dropped low.

Long Hao looked at her.

Three seconds passed before he spoke.

“Wait until the very end,” he said.

“I’ll tell you everything.”

“All the questions, all the answers—I’ll give them all to you at once.”

He raised his index finger.

“On one condition… don’t die here.”