"I… I can't sit steady…"
Shen Du was an idiot—Shen Shen had always known this.
But he had always tolerated him, even spoiled him, protected him too well, which was why, amid the Blood Clan's twisted and painful history, he had managed to retain such innocence.
They were not biological brothers. There was no way he could have a brother this stupid.
He was the son of Shen Shen's comrade-in-arms.
A hundred years ago, his comrade-in-arms, who had fought alongside him through life and death, fell on the battlefield resisting foreign enemies.
Shen Shen had always regretted not being able to save him.
After the campaign ended in total victory, he went to the village where his fallen friend had lived, bringing gifts and enough money to last them a lifetime of comfort, to visit his wife and young children—only to learn that his wife had died during the war, and his youngest child had not survived either. Only a nineteen-year-old eldest son remained, gravely ill, with little time left.
That was the first time Shen Shen saw his comrade's eldest son. He lay on a bed covered in patches, wasted to skin and bone by disease.
Even with money, his illness could not be cured—and besides, life had been truly hard back then.
Shen Shen could tell that the poor boy's pitiful life had only about two days left.
He approached him, like the Grim Reaper himself.
If he was truly suffering, Shen Shen could end it all for him.
But the youth's hand, thin as withered bone, tightly clutched his sleeve.
He couldn't utter a single word, but in his eyes was nothing but a desperate will to live.
This made Shen Shen think of his comrade's face, covered in blood amid the thunder of gunfire, also clutching his sleeve tightly.
In his dying words, he had begged: if he could live to see the dawn, please look after his family.
Shen Shen's heart had softened too few times in his life. This was one of them.
He "saved" that child, making him his younger brother.
But later, he regretted it many times over.
That wasn't living—he had always known. It was merely existing as a walking corpse for eternity, until the end of time, until another meteor struck the earth and wiped out their cursed kind completely, like the dinosaurs.
Shen Shen had pondered the meaning of life many times, and the conclusion he reached was: there is none.
If so, then what exactly was the life he had created…
He had been tormented by this question for a long time.
But what was done was done. No matter how foolish Shen Du was, he would at least keep him—he had promised his friend he would look after his descendants.
Shen Shen was a man of his word.
He would spend his entire life honoring that promise.
…
Shen Du slid to the floor, clutching his chest and coughing violently, his face deathly pale, his lips trembling, yet not daring to utter a single word of defense.
Shen Shen stood before him, looking down at him from above.
Shen Du crawled to his feet, wrapped his arms around his leg, veins bulging at his temples, and wailed: "Brother, you can beat me to death if you want, but she's gone—can we find her first? I don't want her to die. Yes, I wanted to taste her, she's delicious, but I never wanted her to die…"
Shen Shen couldn't actually kick him to death, though sometimes he really was so infuriated by this fool that he wanted to kill him.
Like the time he got trapped in the Hunters' Formation and lost one of his legs.
Just then, the club owner came over with a computer, respectfully showing Shen Shen the surveillance footage: "Mr. Shen, the one who took her is a new face… not from our area, which is why he doesn't know the rules. I'll send people to look for her right now. Don't worry, I… I will definitely find her."
The girl had gone missing in his establishment, and the owner knew he couldn't escape responsibility. He was terrified now, panicking, worried that the big shot might take his anger out on him…
At that moment, a black crow flew through the backstage passage, into the dance hall, and landed on Shen Shen's shoulder, letting out a harsh "caw."
"No need." Shen Shen turned and strode out the door. "I know where she is."
Behind him, Shen Du was helped into a wheelchair and rolled after him: "Brother, I'm coming with you!"
"Get back." Shen Shen didn't even turn his head.
…
Ren Siyi was completely jolted awake by pain—a sharp, stabbing sensation on her arm, like something was biting into her flesh.
She opened her eyes. Above her was a gray concrete ceiling, a dim yellow lightbulb swaying.
Several men surrounded her. Someone was licking the wound on her arm.
She was bleeding. It hurt so much!
Another man pressed against her neck, giving it a light lick.
A wave of icy goosebumps rose. Ren Siyi opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her body didn't feel like her own—she couldn't move at all.
Ren Siyi's eyes went wide, tears quickly welling up, her stomach churning violently.
She was terrified. Were these men planning to gang-rape her?
She wanted to scream for help, but she couldn't make a sound. It was like sleep paralysis—her mind was awake, but her body wouldn't move.
God! What kind of hell was this?
A dream. It had to be a dream.
Wake up, wake up!
A thunderous crash—the door was kicked flying off its hinges.
Yes, the door flew out, slammed into the wall, and shattered into pieces.
A gust of cold wind howled through, the light bulb swayed violently, and the shadows of the men on the wall danced along with it.
The men froze instantly. Even without turning around, they could already feel the overwhelming pressure of a powerful presence bearing down on them.
They scrambled away from Ren Siyi in a panic, huddling together in the corner, squeezed into a tight cluster, not even daring to shiver.
Ren Siyi saw a figure standing at the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight.
Shen Shen, dressed in a black suit, walked in slowly.
The men lay sprawled on the ground like worshippers prostrating themselves in kowtow, their faces pressed flat against the floor, not daring to move or lift their heads.
They were just like ostriches burying their heads in the sand when they sense danger…
Shen Shen walked up to the tall, skinny man.
The man was so terrified he was about to piss his pants, trembling uncontrollably.
Shen Shen gripped his throat with one hand and slowly lifted him up like a chicken.
The man's feet left the ground, kicking feebly in the air twice.
Completely defenseless.
He was frantic with terror, his eyes seemingly about to split open from sheer fear—a fear that came from the depths of his soul.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting their two shadows on the white wall—one tall and motionless, the other writhing in a death struggle.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
The man wept, his voice cracking as he begged, "We didn't mean to do anything! We just wanted a taste of her, then we were going to let her go. We know the rules—we wouldn't dare take her life, we wouldn't dare… Please…"
Just then, the owner of Blood's bar came running in, panting and drenched in sweat, bowing hastily as he said, "Mr. Shen, this happened in my establishment. Let me handle it—no need to dirty your hands."
Shen Shen dropped the man like discarding a piece of trash, then pulled a black handkerchief from his trouser pocket and leisurely wiped his fingers.
He tossed the handkerchief aside casually, and it landed on the man's trembling back.
The bar owner didn't even need to lift a finger—the men scrambled to their feet and followed him out in a panic, crawling and stumbling, as if pardoned from a death sentence, terrified that if they lingered even a second longer, the big shot behind them might change his mind.
The room emptied out.
Shen Shen walked over to Ren Siyi.
The girl's clothes were torn, blood slowly trickling from her hand. A slender shoulder was exposed, her skirt had been ripped up to her thigh, her legs curled inward, and her long hair was in disarray.
Her eyes were still open, glistening with tears—fear, pleading.
That tantalizing sweetness permeated the air, emanating from her wounds.
Her blood… truly exquisite.
Shen Shen suppressed the surging tide in his chest and looked down at her. "Can you move?"
Ren Siyi couldn't speak. She reached out her hand toward Shen Shen—only her fingers could move.
Her mind was clear, but her body wouldn't respond, like she hadn't fully recovered from anesthesia.
Shen Shen understood. They had used hypnosis on her; it would likely take four or five hours to wear off.
He let out a very soft sigh, took off his suit jacket, shook it open, and draped it over her.
The jacket was far too large, enveloping her entire body in one go.
Ren Siyi caught the crisp, clean scent of him on the fabric.
Shen Shen bent down and scooped the girl up with one arm.
It was somewhat like a princess carry, but not quite—because he held her with only one arm, seating her in the crook of his elbow, while his other hand picked up the sandals she had left on the floor.
His arm was incredibly steady. She was too light for him—he could barely feel her weight.
Ren Siyi sat on his arm and instinctively reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning into his embrace.
Her savior—he really was her savior!
Ren Siyi's mind was completely blank now. The only thought she had was to hold on tight to this man, to cling to this lifeline that had arrived so impossibly in time.
She didn't dare think back to the terrifying scene just now.
Mr. Shen, sob sob sob—her lifesaver, Mr. Shen!
Her still-bleeding wound was very close to Shen Shen, and that sweet fragrance surged into his nostrils—right there, within arm's reach, overwhelming and intense.
Shen Shen's body reacted almost instantly. His muscles tensed, his breathing grew heavier, and even his Adam's apple bobbed violently.
He clenched his jaw.
"Let go." His voice was low.
But Ren Siyi truly had no strength left. Her hand didn't loosen—instead, she clung even tighter.
"I… I can't sit steady…" She finally spoke, her voice small and pitiful.
In the end, Shen Shen said nothing more. He tightened his arm, firmly securing her against his chest, and walked downstairs to place her in the black Maybach.
His movements were gentle, like setting down a breathing doll.
On the drive back, Ren Siyi cried and cried, terrified out of her mind—even having survived, the fear still lingered.
She was still wrapped in Shen Shen's suit jacket.
It was her greatest protection.
Shen Shen heard her sniffle and casually handed her the car's trash bin.
He had never been good at comforting women, and at this moment, he had no comforting words to offer either.
But she had gotten into trouble while out with his younger brother, so Shen Shen bore some responsibility toward her: "Go to the hospital. Get a full physical examination."
"No need." Ren Siyi rested her head against the car window and closed her eyes. "I'm fine."
She just wanted to go home, to get home quickly, to stop being outside! To stop being out in… the dark of night.
Shen Shen didn't push further, and had the driver head back to the villa.
"If you need anything, you can tell me."
"Do you have any chocolate?"
Shen Shen looked at her in surprise. The girl's eyes were pitiful as she made what she considered to be a rather important request: "I want to eat chocolate, Mr. Shen. The expensive kind."
…
It was late at night, and the snack shops that should have been closed were all closed.
But if Shen Shen needed to buy chocolate, then he would definitely be able to get it.
The snack shop owner rolled up the shutter door and bowed and scraped as he invited Shen Shen inside. Shen Shen browsed around for a few minutes, then walked out carrying a very large bag.
Inside were all kinds of chocolates—some were candies, some were whole bars, some foreign, some domestic.
Ren Siyi didn't doubt that he had bought out the entire chocolate stock of the shop.
The big bag was set down in front of her, and she rummaged through it, the aggrieved expression on her face finally vanishing completely: "Mr. Shen, there's so much. I won't be able to finish it all."
"Pick the ones you like."