Brother,” Shen Xici stared at the face with half-closed eyes in the rearview mirror, finally unable to resist speaking. “Are you really going to use that kind of character… as a vibrator?”
The man in the back seat didn’t even lift his eyelids, letting out an exceptionally light murmur from his nose. “Mm.”
“Why him?” Shen Xici gritted his teeth. “Pick anyone with a clean background in Hong Kong at random, and they’d all be cleaner than that wild dog from the gutter.”
“Clean?” Shen Yanzhou opened his eyes, tilting his head to light a cigarette, looking at the Shen Xici ahead through the veil of smoke.
“Finding a clean young master is just looking for trouble for myself. Sleep together once, and you have to take responsibility, have to talk about feelings. Even if you give them money, you still have to show some consideration for their face.” Shen Yanzhou flicked the ash. “A wild dog is different.”
“Give him a bone and he’ll wag his tail. No need to coax him, no need to take responsibility. Use him well and keep him; use him up, or get tired of him, and you can throw him right back into the gutter along with his bedding. Zero lingering loose ends.”
“But, Brother, the way he looks at you…”
The words reached the tip of his tongue but choked there. How could Shen Xici bring himself to say it out loud?
The mere thought of that low-born creature touching his brother’s snow-white nape and licking his brother’s adam’s apple in the entryway that day left him sleepless all night long. That man was bound to willfully possess his brother in more hidden places, while he himself had to soothe an unvoiceable desire within the cage named “brotherly devotion.”
He was a house dog brought back from an orphanage by Yanzhou’s parents twelve years ago. A house dog had to keep the rules, while a wild dog could just snap its jaws the moment it caught a scent.
“Xici, your pheromones are slipping out. Pull them back.”
“Yes, Brother.”
“But why is the Old Man so eager to have us return to the ancestral home? Insisting on seeing me on a typhoon day like this.” He massaged his temples, exhaustion leaking from his voice. “Did that useless waste Shen Xiuming poke another hole in the company accounts? Or does Second Uncle want to shove someone into the board of directors again?”
Shen Xici’s hand holding the steering wheel tightened a fraction. “It isn’t because of Second Uncle, and it isn’t because of Shen Xiuming.”
“Then what is it for?” he asked.
“It’s Fu Sihan. He’s returning to the country ahead of schedule.”
Shen Yanzhou pinched out the cigarette he had only smoked halfway, tossing it into the ashtray.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the black Maybach pulled up before an English red-brick castle.
This ancestral home of the Shen family backed against Victoria Peak and faced Victoria Harbour. Word was that his great-great-grandfather had spent half his fortune back in the day just to secure this prime feng shui spot.
“Eldest Master, Third Master.” The old butler, Uncle Zhong, who had been waiting for a long time, hurriedly approached with two Filipino maids to hold umbrellas over them.
Shen Yanzhou habitually cast his gaze toward the western corner of the courtyard. That area was supposed to be a garden blooming with Titanic white roses. Back in the day, his father had specifically arranged for them to be air-freighted from Ecuador just to please his mother. Now, the white roses were entirely gone.
Replaced by rows of exaggeratedly shaped “Money Trees” and dahlia flowers blooming with vulgar brilliance.
“Who did this?”
Uncle Zhong didn’t dare meet Shen Yanzhou’s eyes, stammering an explanation: “It was the Second Mistress.”
“Second Aunt?” Shen Yanzhou’s voice was ice-cold.
“A few days ago, the Second Mistress invited a famous feng shui master from Wong Tai Sin to look at the estate.” Uncle Zhong wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “The master claimed… claimed this western side governs wealth. Although white roses look nice, the color is too plain; planting them at that position looks like wearing mourning attire for the family.”
“To make the company stock rebound, it had to be replaced with these wealthy, brilliant red-and-purple flowers, planted with Money Trees, and tied with red cords for turning luck. It’s called ‘fortune heading your way.'”
“Blocking the path of wealth?” Shen Yanzhou chewed on the words.
His father, for the sake of the Shen family’s shipping business, had spent his years rushing across the seas, ultimately failing to even have his bones fully recovered. His mother, to protect the Shen family’s industries, had even sacrificed her own glands, leaving her plagued by lifelong illnesses. The glory and wealth brought by these two lives nourished this pack of vampires, allowing them to live in luxury mansions, drive sports cars, and spend money like water.
Yet today, this pack actually loathed the flowers left behind by the deceased as unpropitious, claiming they blocked their path to making a fortune.
“Brother…” Shen Xici looked at his brother’s pale face, wanting to say something, but was left speechless by the gaudy vulgarity filling the garden. He found it nauseating too.
“Uproot them,” Shen Yanzhou spat out two syllables coldly.
Uncle Zhong froze. “W-what?”
“I said, uproot every single one of these flowers for me.” Shen Yanzhou turned his head. “Tomorrow morning, if I see even a single stalk of this trash left here, you can pack up and beat it out of the Shen family along with them.”
“But Eldest Master, this was specifically arranged by the Second Mistress…”
“Uncle Zhong, this house bears the surname Shen.”
Uncle Zhong didn’t dare talk back further, nodding repeatedly. “Yes! Yes! I’ll arrange for people to clean it up right away! Right now!”
“Xici, let’s go inside.”
Pushing open the doors, the living room was excessively rowdy. The long table, capable of seating twenty people, was already packed.
The moment Shen Yanzhou took off his coat and sat down, before he could even catch his breath, he was surrounded by this pack of relatives.
“Yanzhou, look at you, have you lost weight again lately?” The cousin-aunt sitting on the left lifted a bowl of soup with deep concern, spinning the lazy Susan directly before Shen Yanzhou without a shred of hesitation. “This is premium fish maw I specifically had someone purchase from Sheung Wan. It was stewed for a full eight hours, ultimate for nourishing qi and blood. Your Omega constitution is naturally weak to begin with; you must nourish it properly.”
“Thank you, Cousin-Aunt.”
“Aiya, what’s a family being polite for.” The cousin-aunt smiled so wide her powder nearly flaked off. Her tone shifted, continuing with total fluidity: “Yanzhou, isn’t your cousin graduating to secondary school this year? You know his grades; ordinary schools won’t catch his eye. I wanted him to go to St. Paul’s Co-educational College. I heard you’re a member of the board of directors over there.”
“See if you can write a recommendation letter? It’s just a matter of saying a word.”
Before a single spoonful of soup reached his mouth, a debt of human favor was already delivered to his lips.
Before Shen Yanzhou could speak, his fifth maternal uncle on the right cut in. “Aiya, studying is a minor matter! Yanzhou, your uncle has an urgent matter here.”
“Aren’t the horse races being held at Sha Tin next week? Your uncle wants to take a few friends from the business world to see the scene. I heard you have a few top VIP suite slots for the Jockey Club in your hands? Can you spare two for your uncle?”
“You don’t know—those bosses coming from the Mainland only recognize that! If I can take them into your suite, this business deal is guaranteed to pull through! When the time comes, your uncle will give you a massive red envelope!”
“Yanzhou…”
“Eldest Cousin…”
Someone wanted an invitation to the charity gala, someone wanted to shove their own useless daughter into the Shen family firm as a secretary, and someone wanted to use Shen Yanzhou’s name to book a slot at the Peninsula Hotel that required a one-year wait list.
Using words of concern, the way they looked at Shen Yanzhou was exactly like an extraction machine for personal connections, an unlimited black card to be overdrawn. Shen Yanzhou only felt that familiar spasm in his stomach rise again. Looking at the highly expensive fish maw soup in his bowl, it resembled a bowl of slops.
“Enough,” Shen Xici couldn’t resist slamming his chopsticks heavily onto the table. “Brother just returned, drenched in rain. Can you let him take a mouthful of hot food first?”
The clamor at the dining table quieted a fraction.
The Second Uncle, who had been sitting firmly nearby without speaking, set down his teacup. “Alright, everyone say a few words less.” Shen Hong’s flippant sentence stabilized the scene.
He turned his head to look at Shen Yanzhou, saying lovingly, “Yanzhou, ignore them, eat first. They’re all short-sighted, bothering you with trivial matters.” As he spoke, he pointed toward Shen Xiuming, who was buried in his phone at the far end of the table.
“Last time was your uncle’s fault. You fished this street-rat back from Sang Biao’s hands, yet your uncle splashed hot water at you. Does your foot still hurt?”
Shen Yanzhou shook his head with a smile. “It’s fine.”
“Xiuming was a bit wild before, but he truly knows his mistake this time. He reflected at home for several days, telling me every day that he wants to return to the company to help share your burden.”
“I was thinking for that plot of land just secured in the New Territories, the development project hasn’t finalized a person in charge yet. Why not let Xiuming give it a try? After all, he’s a brother of the house, more reliable than an outsider. Don’t you think?”
Shen Yanzhou looked at his “right-hand man” who was still playing on his phone without even lifting his head once. The New Territories plot was the Shen family firm’s most important strategic project for next year, with an investment exceeding two billion.
Recommendation letters, Jockey Club suites, charity galas… these were merely mosquitoes sucking blood. The good Second Uncle before him was the wolf truly wanting to swallow him down whole, skin and bones.
Shen Yanzhou didn’t refuse immediately, nor did he agree. His silver-gray eyes swept across the room, finally settling on Shen Hong’s hypocritical face. It seemed this old thing had pre-arranged these relatives beforehand.
“Since things are like this, if Xiuming wants to manage the earthworks and demolition, then let him manage it.”
Shen Yanzhou looked at the surprised Shen Xiuming, then swept a glance over the visibly delighted Second Aunt this was the very woman who had caused his mother’s white roses to be uprooted.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll have the legal department change the legal representative of the New Territories demolition subsidiary to Xiuming’s name. All signing authority and approval authority will be given to him.”
“Authority and responsibility correspond. As long as he signs his name on the Safety Responsibility Agreement and the Anti-Corruption Commitment, this fat piece of meat belongs to him.”
“This…” The smile on Second Uncle’s face froze, cold sweat breaking out across his temples instantly. “Yanzhou, Xiuming is still young. A matter as massive as the legal representative…”
Shen Xiuming was a waste, the Second Aunt was greedy, but the Second Uncle was a shrewd one. Though earthworks and demolition held massive profit margins, it was also the place closest to prison. Once something went wrong, the legal representative was the first scapegoat to go inside to take the fall.
“Enough.” Supported by a butler, the Old Master came downstairs from the second floor, sitting beside Shen Yanzhou. “The matter is settled as such. If Xiuming doesn’t have the guts to sign, don’t mention entering the company again in the future.” The Old Man waved his hand, terminating the topic. “Move your chopsticks.”
“I heard you went to the Peninsula Hotel two days ago to see Master Lai?”
“Yes, Grandpa.”
“The shipping route matter negotiated down?”
“Negotiated down. Lianyishe only takes a 20% cut and will no longer interfere with logistics.”
“Hmph.” The Old Man offered no praise, instead letting out an exceptionally cold laugh. “A 20% cut? That’s snatching meat from Master Lai’s mouth. Yanzhou, do you have any idea what people on the streets are saying about you now?”
Shen Yanzhou lifted his head. “What are they saying?”
“They say you, Eldest Master Shen, are ruthless enough, absolute enough.” The Old Man slammed his chopsticks heavily onto the table. “Using Interpol to pressure the local syndicate? And staging some joint blockade exercise? Even going so far as to smash the pot so nobody gets to eat?” The Old Man shook his head, his eyes entirely filled with disappointment at his lack of wisdom. “Yanzhou, you are still too young.”
“Doing business is about harmony generating wealth and slow streams flowing long. This approach of yours, wanting to ‘crash the ship’ at every turn, is something only a hothead does!”
“Grandpa,” Shen Yanzhou couldn’t resist countering. “Times have changed now. The Shen family firm wants to be a proper listed enterprise, so we can no longer associate with those mixing in the underworld. If we don’t strike them hard enough to hurt once and for all, they will act like leeches, forever sucking on the Shen family firm’s artery.”
“Naive!” the Old Man rebuked sharply. “Pure water holds no fish! Doing business in Hong Kong, do you truly believe you can run rampant relying on a few legal documents? Without Master Lai and his crew stabilizing the docks, your shipping containers could be burned to ashes tomorrow!”
“Leave a line in your actions for a future meeting. To do things so absolutely, are you not afraid of the day you lose power and end up dead on the streets?”
The dining table fell into a dead silence.
Shen Yanzhou looked at the old man before him who spouted “brotherhood and righteousness” but was in reality long pickled by the dregs of the old era, finding it both laughable and sorrowful. It turned out that in his grandfather’s eyes, his actions to preserve the company’s interests even going so far as to risk his life in a gamble were merely “young and arrogant” and “not knowing the rules.”
“Your grandson accepts the instruction.”
Seeing Shen Yanzhou soften, the Old Man’s complexion eased a fraction. “Since you also know you are young and can’t handle certain matters, find a backing early.”
“Sihan is arriving in Hong Kong on tomorrow morning’s flight.” The Old Man saw he offered no reaction, continuing: “For this weekend’s charity gala, push away all your work and accompany him. Furthermore, regarding your engagement, I have already leaked it to the media.”
The previously silent Shen Xici snapped his head up. “Grandpa, this is far too rushed!”
“Shut up! There is no place for you to speak here!” The Old Man glared at him, then turned back to look at Shen Yanzhou, saying cruelly: “Yanzhou, you are no longer small. Don’t throw tantrums with Sihan over those unclean scandals.”
“The Fu family promises that once the marriage is finalized, they will inject one billion in liquid capital into the Shen family firm. This is the massive matter concerning the survival of the family.”
“An Alpha—which one doesn’t stray? As long as he is willing to return to marry you and give you the status of the primary spouse, just close one eye to how he plays outside.”
“Endure it, bear it this is your duty as an Omega of a great family.”
Endure it, bear it? It turned out it was entirely for the sake of a one-billion-HKD capital injection.
He had originally wanted to return to ask his grandfather if he knew anything about Limping Ho, to check if his years of searching had uncovered any clues about the yacht accident back then. Looking at it now, it was entirely unnecessary.
“Grandpa, are you finished speaking?” Shen Yanzhou lifted his head. “If you’re finished, I’ll head back first. I still have several balance sheets to process.”
The Old Man’s brow furrowed tight, clearly deeply dissatisfied. But looking at Shen Yanzhou’s unrippling face, he couldn’t find any specific fault, only letting out a cold snort and waving his hand. “Go. Remember what I said.”
Shen Yanzhou didn’t nod, nor did he shake his head. He stood up, turning to leave.
“Brother!” Shen Xici grabbed Shen Yanzhou’s arm, the edges of his eyes slightly red with heartache. “Brother, the rain is so heavy, I’m not at ease. I’ll drive you back.”
“No need. Leaving the table on such an occasion breaks the rules. Stay behind, accompany Grandpa to finish the meal.”
“But…”
“Be obedient.” Shen Yanzhou patted his shoulder, exiting the noisy living room.
Passing by the western garden, Shen Yanzhou’s steps unbidden slowed down. The rain washed over the absolute mess across the ground. Uncle Zhong and several Filipino maids were bending their waists, working hard to uproot those vulgar Money Trees. Mud water splashed across the old butler’s body, but he didn’t dare stop, the cold wind leaving his hunched silhouette shivering.
Watching this display, for a split second, the scene before him overlapped with twenty years ago. Back then, this area was still a sea of white roses. It was also a rainy day like this; a young him had leaned against the window, watching his father rush frantically into the garden just to set up rain shelters over those newly transplanted, delicate roses. Uncle Zhong had been following behind at the time, wanting to hold an umbrella over his father.
Yet his father had pushed the umbrella away, saying to Uncle Zhong with a smile: “Uncle Zhong, the rain is heavy, your old cold legs can’t bear it. Hurry back into the house to rest. I can manage these few flowers myself. Ah Rou loves these stalks most; if they’re ruined by the downpour, his heart will ache.”
The tall, gentle father in his memory, for the sake of a single flower loved by his partner, was unwilling to let an old servant catch the rain. Yet today, this room full of relatives, for the sake of financial luck, could trample over all of this without a shred of concern.
Shen Yanzhou closed his eyes, forcibly pressing back the sour sting at the corners of his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he thought of that clumsy man back at Shallow Water Bay the way he carefully tended to the roses in his garden, covering himself in cuts from the thorns. He thought of how the man had crouched over the desk today, drawing stroke by stroke, writing in a crooked hand: 【Cannot make Master hurt, Master’s life is more important than anything.】
“Eldest… Eldest Master?” Uncle Zhong, who was still guarding in the rain, caught sight of Shen Yanzhou and hurriedly approached, his old face pale. “Eldest Master, rest assured! Even if I don’t sleep tonight, I will definitely clear these dahlias out completely! They absolutely won’t block your sight!”
Looking at this old man who had served the Shen family for an entire lifetime but was currently in such a miserable state, the layer of ice deep in Shen Yanzhou’s eyes finally cracked.
“Uncle Zhong.”
“Aiya! I’m here!”
“The wind is strong tonight, and the rain is heavy too,” Shen Yanzhou looked at the servants shivering in the torrential rain. “Stop working on all of this. Take a mouthful of hot food first, then go back to rest.”
“Huh?” Uncle Zhong froze. “But you mentioned just now…”
“Finishing it within this week is fine.”
Shen Yanzhou offered no further explanation. He retracted his focus, tightened his grip on his umbrella handle, straightened his spine, and walked toward the Maybach parked in the misty rain.
“I’m tired,” he murmured softly sounding as if he were speaking to Uncle Zhong, yet also sounding as if he were speaking to himself.
Right now, he simply wanted to return to Shallow Water Bay. To get a good night’s sleep.
Meanwhile, behind St. Mary’s Hospital, in a back alley.
Su Muran held a black umbrella, his brow tightly furrowed as he walked rapidly through this cramped, narrow alleyway. Tonight, the nape of his neck had been feeling inexplicably tight, his heart hammering wildly.
This sensation felt exactly like being locked onto at the throat through the rain screen by some top apex predator who was presently evaluating from the shadows where to strike for a single lethal bite. Reaching a dead corner deep within the alley, the chill of being scrutinized reached its absolute peak.
Beside the trash bin ahead, a drenched wild cat was crouching. Suddenly, as if catching sight of something intensely terrifying, the cat let out a sharp “meow” screech, its fur exploding as it bolted into the storm drain.
“Who?!” Su Muran turned around abruptly, rebuking sharply: “Get out!”
No answer. Only the muffled thuds of the torrential rain slamming against the rusted sheet-metal rain shelters, sounding like dense drumbeats.
However, the exact instant he turned, a terrifying surge of pheromones erupted without a single hint of warning. A black silhouette, so tall it left one suffocated, peeled itself out from behind an abandoned medical equipment crate. He wore a loose, old black raincoat, the hood pulled exceptionally low, masking most of his face. His entire being practically dissolved into the dense night, carrying a murderous aura that felt as if he wanted to swallow a person alive.
“You…” Su Muran felt his stomach churn violently from the impact of the pheromones, terror turning his voice pitchy. “Who are you? I am the young master of the Su family; do you know what the consequences will be if you touch me? Director Li of the West Kowloon Police Station is my—”
The black silhouette didn’t listen to a single word of his nonsense, slamming him brutally onto the rough, wet, moss-covered brick wall.
“Cough… ugh, ah!”
His internal organs vibrated violently; Su Muran felt as if his spine were about to snap. The black umbrella flew from his grip, spinning through the mud water. Before he could slide down, that large hand wearing a black glove had already shifted upward, locking onto his throat like an iron clamp, lifting his feet clear off the ground, pinning him dead against the wall.
Rain trickled down the brim of the black raincoat, slamming against Su Muran’s terror-stricken face. Using the flickering red neon sign at the alley entrance, he finally saw the eyes beneath the hood clearly.
Pitch-black, deep completely devoid of a single shred of the simple-mindedness and compliance displayed back at the Shen family villa. All that remained was a madness scorched red by jealousy, and the unmasked cruelty belonging to an S+ tier Alpha.
“Dr. Su.” The man tilted his head slightly, his other hand slapping Su Muran’s pale cheek with extreme roughness.
His voice was raspy and coarse, completely masking its original timbre, carrying a hair-raising intimacy: “It’s this late already haven’t you vented enough? The scent on your body can be smelled across two blocks.”
“You are… Thirty… Thirty Million?!” Su Muran squeezed the words out with immense difficulty from between his teeth. “Have you gone mad… if A-Yan finds out…”
“Shh.” The man raised a single finger against his lips, a flash of violence crossing his eyes. “Are you even worthy of uttering his name?”
He leaned forward slightly, his high nose bridge drawing close to Su Muran’s neck line, inhaling with distaste before letting out a cold sneer: “Sure enough.”
“Today at the Shen house, when you were staring at him… you got hard, didn’t you?”
His face went pale: “You… what nonsense are you spouting! I am a doctor! That was—”
“Still acting?” The man approached abruptly, their distance vanishing entirely. The highly aggressive pheromones tunneled into Su Muran’s pores, forcibly destroying his will.
“Today in the living room, when he bent over to pick up a book, his collar opened.” The man described the scene meticulously, his gaze growing increasingly brooding. “That silk bathrobe is very slick; it slid down his shoulder a fraction, exposing half a shoulder, along with the faint pink color inside…”
Su Muran’s heart hammered frantically.
“I was right beside him at the time,” the man stared deathly into his eyes, his tone laced with tangible killing intent. “I caught your gaze. That look was exactly like a slimy slug wanting to crawl into his clothes to lick his skin.”
“Furthermore…” The man snapped his hand out, locking onto Su Muran’s wrist.
“You were holding your phone at the time, the lens aimed at that gap.” The man’s voice turned sharply cold, carrying literal murderous intent. “You took a stealth shot of him, didn’t you?”
“Hand it over.”
“Don’t make me say it a second time, or I’ll gouge your eyeballs out and shove them into your mouth.”
Shivering under the ultimate terror, Su Muran tremblingly fished out his customized phone. The man snatched it away, grabbing Su Muran’s hair to force a facial scan to unlock it.
Opening the gallery, he found the album named 【Moon】.
Sure enough, the latest photo. The angle was exceptionally low, exceptionally calculated. In the photo, Shen Yanzhou was bending over defenselessly; beneath the loose collar, that expanse of snow-white, delicate chest skin was completely visible, even faintly revealing a color that left one’s blood boiling. Although it was only a blurry corner, that private, forbidden imagery looking as if one could smell a milky fragrance practically spilled from the screen.
“Heh…” a deep, low pant leaked from the man’s throat.
Looking at the photo, a near-pathological obsession surged deep in his eyes. He extended his rough thumb across the screen, grinding it forcefully over that patch of snow-white skin, looking exactly as if he were caressing the real him.
Flipping upward, one photo, two photos, ten photos… thousands, tens of thousands of photos.
All stealth shots. All of him. Him during different periods. There was him lowering his head to sip wine at a gala, the red wine wetting his pale lips; there was him reading a book inside the Shen family garden, his bare ankle resting against the green grass, his toes rounded and cute; and there were even a few photos taken from an exceptionally calculated angle, clearly snapped stealthily through a door gap—
The silhouette of Shen Yanzhou changing clothes inside a dressing room. The silk shirt had slid down to his elbows, exposing his entire smooth-as-jade spine. His shoulder blades looked ready to take flight, his lower back hollows deep a hidden sensuality sufficient to cause any Alpha’s blood vessels to burst.
“Heh…” An exceptionally light, cold laugh leaked from deep within the man’s throat.
The speed at which he browsed the photos grew slower and slower, the force of his finger pressing against the screen growing larger and larger, looking as if he wanted to pierce through the screen to directly crush the stealth photographer’s skull.
“Dr. Su.” The man knelt down, his focus leveling with the Su Muran slumped in the mud water. He pulled down his mask, revealing a face flawlessly handsome yet twisted with a terrifying smile.
“This is what you call… being good to him?”
“This is the ‘childhood friend’ you spout from your mouth?”
“Keeping this kind of photo, what do you want to do?”
“You’ve witnessed him before he turned eighteen? Witnessed the way he looked wearing a school uniform? Even… witnessed the way he cried when he presented?”
“What gives you the right?” The man’s voice dropped instantly, turning into a murmur like a venomous snake spitting its tongue: “What gives trash like you… the right to possess his past? It truly makes one… mad with jealousy.”
The man’s breathing turned thick and murky within moments. He fished out his own old phone, using Bluetooth to transfer the photos while staring at the Su Muran slumped across the ground, his gaze brooding:
“The mere thought of you hiding beneath a blanket during your rut, using these photos to fantasize about him, covering your disgusting hands in your fluids… makes me wish I could gouge these eyes of yours out.”
Bang! He slammed a fist into the wall right beside Su Muran’s ear. Debris flew, slicing across Su Muran’s face.
“No… don’t kill me… don’t kill me…”
The man took a deep breath, forcibly pressing down the impulse wanting to kill him. Killing him would bring trouble to Shen Yanzhou.
As the final photo completed its transfer, the man cautiously packed his old phone away, placing it securely into the innermost pocket at his chest, resting tight against the position where his heart hammered. Then, he raised Su Muran’s phone again, looking at the teenage Shen Yanzhou on the wallpaper—wearing the white uniform shirt of St. Paul’s School, resting across a afternoon desk, sleeping quietly.
A flash of reluctance crossed his eyes. Then, two fingers clamped down onto the chassis. With immense force, the phone tracking Su Muran’s hidden infatuation for over a decade packed to the brim with his filthy thoughts was snapped in two and tossed into the nearby stagnant ditch radiating a foul stench.
Standing up, he pulled his hood low, dissolving back into the darkness.
“This is merely a warning.”
“Stay far away from him.”
“If I catch that nauseating scent of covetousness on you again…”
“Next time, what shatters will be your bones.”