Back in the hospital office, Shen Shen closed the door and didn't turn on the lights.
Night seeped in through the windows. He sank into his chair, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and swallowed lightly, his Adam's apple bobbing once.
Only then did the surging tide in his chest begin to settle, just slightly.
The private hospital wasn't located in the noisy, bustling city center, but rather in the suburbs, covering a vast area—three to four times the size of the city's public hospital.
The environment was also excellent. Expanses of neatly trimmed lawn sloped gently, with a fountain sculpture at the center, its waters flowing ceaselessly day and night.
The outpatient building was European in style, with numerous floor-to-ceiling windows and a bright, airy lobby.
Moreover, the air didn't carry that sterile hospital smell; instead, it held the faintest trace of a botanical fragrance.
Every ward in the inpatient building was outfitted like a hotel room—private and quiet.
That was why the wealthy and powerful of South City all preferred Shen's Private Hospital for their medical needs.
But the pleasant environment wasn't the hospital's selling point.
They could treat intractable diseases. The nighttime specialist consultations were spoken of as nothing short of miraculous—patients who had been given death sentences elsewhere often found a turning point here.
Behind the hospital stood an independent medical biology research institute, where breakthrough progress had been made on many terminal illnesses that humanity had struggled to conquer.
Even if a cure wasn't yet possible, they had ways to dramatically extend a patient's lifeline, allowing them to live with dignity and grace.
And there was another impressive aspect of this hospital.
Because the consultation fees were exorbitant, poor patients who couldn't afford the ICU simply had to volunteer to donate blood.
The patient didn't have to donate personally—family members could do it on their behalf. Donations were made at regular intervals and in regulated amounts, with health monitoring to ensure no harm came to the donors.
This allowed many patients who couldn't afford treatment but were fortunate enough to have large families to receive excellent care.
However, Shen Shen's business extended far beyond this.
This hospital was merely a front.
He was the oldest surviving member of the Blood Clan, and to younger vampires, he was practically a godfather figure.
Because he protected the clan.
He didn't prohibit vampires from feeding on humans, but he imposed restrictions: they must never be discovered by humans, and they must never harm human health.
When clan members fed, they released large amounts of hypnotic enzymes. The humans being fed upon felt no pain—instead, they drifted into a tipsy, relaxed state, drowsy and content.
That was why they were called "mosquitoes" by the Hunters.
Silent, unseen, they fed their fill and departed, leaving no trace.
Shen Shen had lived through multiple wars, and he had watched human modern weaponry grow increasingly advanced. If it ever came to an all-out conflict, both sides would surely suffer mutual destruction.
That was precisely why he had to keep all restless clan members in check, conceal their tracks as much as possible, and blend into human society.
The hospital provided the Blood Clan with ample blood supplies—all they had to do was pay.
Past history had been erased. Modern humans knew nothing of the Blood Clan.
Except for certain Hunters, whose knowledge was passed down through generations.
Many newly turned young vampires, who hadn't yet learned how to hide in the human world, died at the hands of Hunters.
Though vampires possessed physiques superior to humans, nature had still cursed them with many fatal weaknesses.
Sunlight, peach wood, mugwort…
And Shen Shen had already found a direction in his search for a way to overcome these vulnerabilities.
…
His assistant, Yi Mochi, walked into the office.
He wore a professional white coat, his expression cool and composed, his features refined and handsome.
No one around Shen Shen was unattractive.
He carried a sterilized white tray bearing a blood sample tube, and presented it to Shen Shen. "Mr. Shen, the HC Value in this blood sample is extremely high. There's a strong probability this is the Hetero-blood we've been looking for. Please take a look."
Shen Shen unscrewed the cap and brought it to his nose, inhaling.
The scent was indeed sweet.
He tilted his head back slightly and drained the tube. Then he walked to the corner and switched on the supplemental light that simulated the spectrum of natural sunlight.
Rolling up his sleeve, he placed his pale arm beneath the intense light.
An ordinary vampire couldn't endure even a minute under such direct exposure—their body would blister and burn, turning into a charred husk.
But the higher a vampire's rank, the less damage sunlight inflicted, and the longer they could endure.
After a moment, scorched marks began to appear on Shen Shen's skin.
He withdrew his arm abruptly, examining the burn marks on his skin, a flicker of disappointment in his expression.
Yi Mochi had already prepared the burn ointment. He knelt down, cradling Shen Shen's wrist.
"Not it." Shen Shen's voice was low as he stared at the wound on his hand, a thin frost of disappointment passing through his eyes before vanishing in an instant.
Hetero-blood could render a vampire immune to the burning of sunlight for a period of time—anywhere from a few hours to several days, depending on the quantity.
This type of blood couldn't be identified by scent alone. Instruments could detect the HC Value within it—the higher the value, the greater the hope—but whether it truly was Hetero-blood could only be tested with the body itself.
Most clan members lacked the nerve to use themselves as test subjects and face the sun. But Shen Shen had to.
His research institute had already developed a Heart Cultivation Device.
As long as they could find a Hetero-blood, sacrifice their heart, and place it in the cultivation device to continuously produce blood, all Blood Clan members could, after millennia of darkness, live under the sunlight like normal humans.
Moreover, Hetero-bloods were exceedingly rare in the world. The last time Shen Shen had seen one was a century ago.
Yi Mochi stared at the empty test tube and sighed. They would have to continue searching through massive samples.
And this work—they had already been doing it for ten years.
Still no trace of a Hetero-blood.
…
During those final days at the Shen residence, Ren Siyi always felt like her energy wasn't quite enough.
When she crouched down to look for the remote under the coffee table, just for that brief moment, standing back up would bring a momentary dizziness.
Her body would sway, and she'd have to steady herself against the sofa back to stand firm.
Drowsiness, fatigue—she'd often sleep for an entire day at a stretch.
Before, she'd never been like this. She'd collapse from exhaustion around four or five in the morning and usually wake up by early afternoon.
Lately, she'd sleep straight through until dusk.
Looking at herself in the mirror, her face was gradually growing pale, and her lips had lost their color as well.
At the same time, she noticed some mosquito bites appearing on her body. Besides her neck, there were also some on her arms and legs, with tiny blood spots on them, but they didn't itch.
Moreover, the mosquito bites appeared in pairs—one area would always have two blood spots very close together.
It was midsummer, so mosquitoes in the villa were normal. Even though the butler burned mosquito coils every day to repel them, it couldn't fully keep them away, after all, this was a forest.
Ren Siyi touched her neck but didn't think much of it.
However, Shen Du had been treating her better and better lately. He would invite her to dine with him, whereas before she'd always eaten with Lu Sen in the basement.
Every meal they had was meticulously prepared by Lu Sen, leaning more toward Western cuisine.
They were all extremely expensive restaurant dishes—steak, arugula salad, truffle soup, baked shrimp, and the like.
Lu Sen was truly impressive—he could be called a jack-of-all-trades divine butler. The meals he made were in no way inferior to those of a three-Michelin-star chef.
Although Ren Siyi had never eaten food made by a Michelin chef, she'd seen them in videos, and at least the appearance and plating were no different from what Lu Sen made.
The meals Lu Sen made for Ren Siyi would differ somewhat from Shen Du's.
Besides beef and lamb, there would also be foods like pork liver, duck blood, and oysters.
She didn't actually care much for organ meats, but Lu Sen's skill was truly remarkable—the pork liver was tender and soft on the palate with not a trace of gamey smell, and she found herself eating it with great relish.
After the meal, as Lu Sen cleared the utensils in front of Shen Du, he said to Ren Siyi, who was about to get up and leave, "Help me take these dishes to the dishwasher in the basement kitchen."
Ren Siyi found it a bit odd. Before, Lu Sen never delegated these tasks to anyone else. Why was he suddenly asking her today?
She was good-natured, thinking that maybe he was too busy to manage, and it was only right for her to lend a hand.
"Sure," she replied, picking up the dishes she and Shen Du had used, and headed down the stairs to the basement.
In the domed dining room, Shen Du leisurely dabbed his lips with a napkin.
Only after Lu Sen watched Ren Siyi go downstairs did he retrieve a bag of frozen blood from the locked refrigerated blood bank and hand it to Shen Du. "Young Master, it's time for your proper meal."
Shen Du glanced at the dark red blood bag that held no appeal whatsoever—it couldn't compare at all to his almost-girlfriend's fragrant, delicious blood.
He really didn't know how his brother could resist drinking fresh blood and subsist on these frozen blood packs day in and day out.
He was so powerful—whose blood couldn't he get if he wanted it!
Shen Du was different from his brother. His brother practiced ascetic discipline, but he had always followed hedonism. He had no intention of suffering needlessly like that.
"No need," Shen Du said lazily. "I'm not very hungry lately."
Lu Sen looked at him expressionlessly.
Having eaten his fill upstairs, of course he wasn't hungry.
Lu Sen couldn't help but remind him: "Young Master, the Master has been busy lately and has no time to manage you. He instructed me to keep an eye on you. What you've been doing to Miss Ren—a small amount, a few times, might not be a big problem. But if you can't control yourself, I will tell the Master."
Lu Sen had noticed Ren Siyi's recent changes, which was why he made so many blood-nourishing meals for her.
Shen Du elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth with his folded napkin, then stood up, walked around the wheelchair, and slowly approached Lu Sen.
Lu Sen was shocked to see that his legs had completely recovered!
"You… you… you're already healed?"
Shen Du looked at the gauze and cast wrapped around his legs—those were deliberately applied as a disguise. His legs had already grown back, with well-proportioned muscles, perfectly intact—a pair of new legs.
But he didn't want Ren Siyi to discover this.
He let out a cold laugh and stepped closer to Lu Sen, one step at a time.
Lu Sen watched a hint of blood-red spreading deep in his pupils, sensed the danger, and instinctively stepped backward.
Until his back pressed against the wall, with nowhere left to retreat.
Shen Du had been stifled for months, managed by this nuisance for months, and he'd had enough of swallowing his anger.
He grabbed Lu Sen by the neck, lifting him entirely off the ground and pinning him against the wall.
Lu Sen's feet left the floor, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.
He was a second-generation Blood Clan member personally turned by the ancestor Shen Shen himself. Even with only a century of life, his strength ranked above average among the Blood Clan—not to be underestimated.
Moreover, Lu Sen was merely an ordinary human, utterly powerless to resist him.
In the throes of suffocation, he saw Shen Du's pupils contract, turning blood-red.
A wild, unrestrained smile spread across his face. "Lu Sen, you like tattling so much, don't you? Go ahead, report me! Go on, why don't you?"
"Oh? Your face is so pale." His smile carried an innocent cruelty as he tightened his fingers, savoring the man's pain and fear. "Are you about to die?"
Just then, a girl's crisp voice came from the basement, calling out in frustration, "Butler Lu Sen, I can't figure out how to use that dishwasher of yours!"
Lu Sen stared at the demonic youth before him, intense terror flooding his eyes as his body trembled.
"Butler Lu Sen, did you hear me?" Ren Siyi's footsteps echoed as she clattered up the stairs.
By the time she reached the domed dining hall, Shen Du was seated in his wheelchair, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Lu Sen stood with his back to her, bent over wiping down the already spotless long table. His face was pale, his hands trembling slightly.
"Butler Lu Sen, that dishwasher is so fancy, I don't know how to use it…"
"It's fine, I'll take care of it. You go attend to your business." Lu Sen finished speaking, turned, and strode quickly toward the basement.
Ren Siyi noticed something off about him and couldn't help asking, "Butler Lu Sen, are you sick? Your hands are shaking."
"I'm fine."
She watched his retreating figure, feeling that something was strange.
Beside her, the sinister, vicious aura Shen Du had exuded moments ago had vanished without a trace. He flashed her a docile smile. "Sisi darling, will you be my girlfriend? I really like you."
Ren Siyi sighed.
She heard those words every single day lately.
"What can I do?" Even though only a few days remained on the contract, she didn't slack off, feigning regret as she refused him. "The contract stipulates that I can't date during working hours."
…
Despite being severely threatened by Shen Du, Lu Sen still reported the matter to Shen Shen.
He was Shen Shen's Contract Servant. From the moment the contract was sealed, his life no longer belonged to himself.
No matter what happened—even if a blade were pressed to his throat—he had to remain loyal to his master, loyal to him alone.
The reason Shen Du called him a "tattletale" was precisely because he could not conceal anything from his contract master.
In truth, even if he didn't speak up, Shen Shen would have noticed the abnormal red marks on Ren Siyi's neck.
Her blood was irresistible even to Shen Shen himself, let alone to someone as unrestrained as Shen Du, who would inevitably indulge in it sooner or later.
Most of the girlfriends or romantic interests he'd brought back before had also been sampled by him.
However, Shen Du was someone who quickly grew bored with the old and craved the new. Once he'd tasted something once, he soon tired of it—a second taste, a third… there would almost never be a fourth.
The number of times was limited, so there was no need to worry about those girls' health, and Shen Du was cautious enough never to arouse their suspicions.
But Ren Siyi had become the exception. Her blood was truly extraordinary—even Shen Shen had nearly lost control.
He had no idea how much blood Shen Du had secretly drained from her.
He couldn't let her stay any longer. She had to be sent away today.