The building in Pudong had twenty-four floors.
Apartment 1704 belonged to a retired accountant.
At least on paper.
The woman had died eleven years ago.
No new owner had ever been registered.
Leng Yao looked up at the tower from the pavement.
Ordinary residential block.
Convenience store on the ground floor.
Children’s bicycles chained near the entrance.
A delivery rider smoked beside the security gate.
No cultivation pressure.
No Carrion Palace symbols.
No armed men waiting on rooftops.
Duan stood beside him.
“Disappointing.”
“You expected explosions?”
“I expected effort.”
Ji looked at the windows.
“Seventeenth floor.”
“Yes.”
Feng remained near the vehicle.
His hand rested inside his coat.
“You want the building evacuated?”
“No.”
“If it is a trap—”
“We find out before it becomes one.”
Leng Yao entered.
The security gate was broken.
Not spiritually.
The lock simply did not close properly.
They took the lift.
Duan watched the floor numbers rise.
“This is strange.”
Ji looked at him.
“What?”
“No guards.”
“Maybe Zhentao wants to talk.”
“People who want to talk usually choose places with exits.”
Leng Yao said nothing.
The lift opened on seventeen.
No one waited outside.
Apartment 1704 stood at the end of the corridor.
Door closed.
A supermarket bag rested outside 1702.
Television noise came through 1706.
Ordinary life continued around whatever Leng Zhentao had prepared.
Leng Yao stopped in front of the door.
Feng moved closer.
“Trap?”
“I don’t feel one.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“No.”
Leng Yao knocked.
Three times.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
The door opened.
Not by itself.
A man stood behind it.
Leng Zhentao.
No mask.
No white-robed followers.
No demonic pressure.
Grey sweater.
Black trousers.
Bare feet.
He looked almost exactly like the recording.
The scar along his face was deeper in person.
His eyes settled on Leng Yao.
Then moved to Feng.
Something changed.
“Baoshu.”
Feng’s body stiffened.
“You know me.”
Zhentao smiled faintly.
“You tried to kill me.”
“So I have been told.”
“Four times.”
Feng frowned.
“Everyone remembers that detail.”
“It was memorable.”
Leng Yao stepped forward.
“Move.”
Zhentao looked at him.
“Still impatient.”
“Move.”
He did.
No argument.
That was worse.
Leng Yao entered.
The apartment was small.
One sofa.
Dining table.
Cheap curtains.
Two cups already prepared.
Ji came in behind him.
Duan followed.
Feng entered last.
Zhentao closed the door.
“No guards?” Leng Yao asked.
“No.”
“No formation?”
“One.”
Ji looked around.
“Where?”
“Kitchen.”
Duan leaned towards the doorway.
“What does it do?”
“Boils water.”
Silence.
Duan nodded.
“Fair.”
Zhentao sat.
Leng Yao remained standing.
“Yan Shuo was taken.”
Zhentao’s expression changed.
“When?”
“Today.”
“Where?”
“Transport route near Nanjing.”
“Carrion Palace?”
“Yes.”
Zhentao looked away.
For the first time, he seemed genuinely disturbed.
“He should have stayed buried.”
“That was not an option.”
“It was safer.”
“For whom?”
Zhentao looked back.
“You.”
Leng Yao pulled out the chair opposite him.
Finally sat.
“Start with the massacre.”
Zhentao leaned back.
“I told you what happened.”
“You recorded a version.”
“It was accurate.”
“Baoshu remembers you fighting my father.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Jian wanted me dead.”
“Reason?”
“Betrayal.”
“Specific.”
Zhentao nodded slowly.
Good.
“I introduced Carrion Palace to your father.”
Leng Yao said nothing.
“Your mother found them first.
When you were born, physicians gave you months.”
“How old was I when she contacted them?”
“Six weeks.”
“What did they offer?”
“A stabilisation ritual.”
“Cost?”
“Nothing at first.”
Ji stood near the window, silent.
Duan leaned against the wall.
Feng watched Zhentao.
Leng Yao asked, “And after it worked?”
“They wanted access.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Tests.
Blood.
Cultivation monitoring.”
“Father allowed it?”
“For three years.”
Leng Yao’s expression changed.
Zhentao saw it.
“You think he should have refused immediately.”
“Yes.”
“You were alive because of them.”
“That does not make me theirs.”
“No.”
Zhentao’s voice softened.
“That was the argument that destroyed everything.”
Leng Yao waited.
Zhentao continued.
“When you were three, Carrion Palace asked to take you for six months.”
“For what?”
“Second-stage treatment.”
“Father refused.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I supported the Palace.”
Feng’s eyes hardened.
Zhentao did not avoid it.
“I thought Jian was afraid.”
“He had reason.”
“Yes.”
“I did not know that yet.”
“What changed?”
“I visited one of their facilities.”
Helixion?
“No,” Zhentao said before Leng Yao asked.
“Older.”
“What did you see?”
“Children.”
His expression tightened.
“Most dead.”
No one spoke.
“They were trying to create more bodies like yours.”
“Vessels.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Hundreds over decades.”
“Survivors?”
“Very few.”
“Yan Shuo?”
“Different generation.”
“Mei Zhen?”
Zhentao looked at him.
“You opened the grave vault.”
“Yes.”
“She survived.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“That answer is becoming common.”
“It is also true.”
Leng Yao watched him.
No system.
No Judgement.
Only the man.
“Continue.”
Zhentao folded his hands.
“I went back to Jian.”
“Told him?”
“Yes.”
“He believed you?”
“Eventually.”
“Then why did the Palace attack years later?”
“Because we stole something.”
Leng Yao’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Research.”
“On me?”
“On all vessels.”
“Where is it?”
Zhentao looked at Feng.
The old butler’s face tightened.
“There were three chests,” Feng said.
“Yes.”
Zhentao nodded.
“Yan Shuo.”
“Mei Zhen.”
“And?”
Zhentao looked at Leng Yao.
“Records.”
Container Forty-Seven.
The chest stolen from Dock Seven had not contained a person when it was moved.
It had contained Carrion Palace research.
“What did they take from the dock?”
“Probably the archive.”
“Probably?”
“I had not seen it since the massacre.”
Feng frowned.
“You were there.”
“I was.”
“You knew where we moved the chest.”
“No.”
“Then how did Carrion Palace?”
Zhentao looked at him.
“That is what you should be worried about.”
Leng Yao stopped the conversation there.
“Who knew?”
“Your father.
Your mother.
Baoshu.
Me.”
“Mother died that night.”
“Yes.”
“Father too.”
“Yes.”
“Baoshu forgot.”
“Yes.”
“You claim not to know.”
“Yes.”
“Then someone else knew.”
“Or someone watched.”
That was possible.
Not useful enough.
“Why three chests beneath the cemetery?”
“Because Jian knew the estate might fall.”
“He expected an attack.”
“For years.”
Feng’s brow tightened.
Another fragment.
“You knew this?” Leng Yao asked.
“No.”
Zhentao looked at him.
“He did.”
Feng stared.
“Why?”
“You helped build the evacuation tunnels.”
A flash crossed Feng’s face.
Stone.
Torchlight.
Leng Jian arguing with workers.
Hidden passages beneath the old estate.
Feng put one hand against the table.
“I remember stairs.”
“Good.”
Zhentao continued.
“Jian prepared escape routes.
Safe houses.
Grave vaults.
Everything.”
“And still lost.”
“Yes.”
No attempt to romanticise it.
Leng Yao appreciated that.
“Who ordered the attack?”
“Luo Zhenhai.”
“Why then?”
“You turned sixteen.”
“And?”
“Your core began eating techniques.”
Leng Yao remained still.
“Carrion Palace believed the next stage had started.”
“The poison.”
“Yes.”
“You poisoned me.”
“No.”
“Who?”
Zhentao looked down.
“Your father.”
The room changed.
Feng drew his blade.
Ji’s hand moved towards her spear.
Leng Yao remained seated.
“Repeat that.”
Zhentao met his eyes.
“Jian poisoned you.”
Feng stepped forward.
“Liar.”
Zhentao looked at him.
“You were there.”
“I would remember.”
“You don’t.”
Feng’s blade moved closer.
Leng Yao raised one hand.
Feng stopped.
Barely.
Leng Yao asked, “Why?”
“Because the poison was a suppressant.”
“He lied.”
“Or you are.”
“Yes.”
Zhentao accepted it.
“So verify.”
“How?”
“Your blood.”
Leng Yao’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
“The poison is still in you.”
Doctor Ren had found abnormal residues in his meridians for years.
No one had identified them.
Zhentao stood.
Feng immediately moved.
“Sit.”
Zhentao did.
Then rolled up his sleeve.
Black lines ran beneath his skin.
Not Rot Scripture.
Something else.
“Jian used the same suppressant on me.”
Leng Yao looked at it.
“Why?”
“Because I had started the vessel process voluntarily.”
Duan straightened.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“What stage?”
“Two.”
“You are a vessel.”
“Failed one.”
Zhentao looked at Leng Yao.
“The suppressant destroyed my progression.”
“Then why use it on me?”
“To prevent yours.”
That fit.
Too neatly.
Leng Yao disliked neat stories.
“What happened after Father poisoned me?”
“You collapsed.”
“I know.”
“Carrion Palace attacked because they believed Jian had destroyed decades of work.”
“And you?”
“I arrived after the first breach.”
“On whose side?”
“My own.”
Feng laughed once.
No humour.
Zhentao looked at him.
“I tried to get Yao out.”
“You fought Jian.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He thought I brought them.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Feng’s hand tightened.
“What did he say?”
Zhentao became quiet.
“Brother.”
That word hit something.
Feng’s face changed.
Fire.
Leng Jian bleeding.
Zhentao standing in smoke.
The two men facing each other.
Feng remembered a sentence.
Not everything.
Just one.
He whispered it.
“Why are they following your route?”
Zhentao’s face went still.
Leng Yao looked at him.
“What route?”
Zhentao said nothing.
Feng stepped closer.
“That is what your father said.”
Memory sharpened.
Leng Jian shouting.
“Why are they following your route?”
Zhentao backing away.
“No.”
Feng’s voice hardened.
“You answered.”
Zhentao closed his eyes.
“What did I say?” Leng Yao asked.
Feng looked at Zhentao.
“You said…”
The memory resisted.
Pain crossed his face.
Leng Yao stood.
“Stop.”
Feng ignored him.
Zhentao spoke first.
“I said because I gave it to them.”
Silence.
There.
No excuse.
Leng Yao looked at his uncle.
“You did betray him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To draw Carrion Palace into the eastern courtyard.”
“For what?”
“To destroy them.”
Leng Yao stared.
“You gave them an entry route.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling Father.”
“Yes.”
“Into our home.”
“Yes.”
“During an attack.”
“Yes.”
Feng’s blade struck the table.
Wood split.
“You killed them.”
Zhentao did not move.
“I killed many.”
“You killed the Leng family.”
“No.”
“Your plan opened the gate.”
“Yes.”
“That is enough.”
Feng raised the blade.
Leng Yao caught his wrist.
Feng turned.
“Let go.”
“No.”
“He—”
“I heard him.”
Feng’s breathing came hard.
The faint bond between them trembled.
Leng Yao did not force it.
“He answers first.”
Feng stared at him.
Then lowered the blade.
Zhentao looked older than he had ten minutes earlier.
“My plan failed.”
“That is obvious,” Leng Yao said.
“Yes.”
“Why should I believe anything else you say?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Good answer.
Zhentao reached beneath the table.
Everyone moved.
He stopped.
Slowly pulled out a small metal case.
Placed it on the table.
No trap.
He opened it.
Inside lay three glass vials.
Black fluid.
Feng recognised the smell first.
His face changed.
“The poison.”
Zhentao nodded.
“One suppressant.
One catalyst.
One neutral sample.”
“Which was used on me?”
“Suppressant.”
Leng Yao did not touch them.
“Proof?”
“Doctor Ren can compare it to your blood.”
“And if it matches?”
“Then Gu Chen lied.”
“About that.”
“Yes.”
“Not everything.”
“No.”
Again.
No attempt to make himself innocent.
Leng Yao preferred guilty people who understood evidence.
A phone vibrated.
Not Leng Yao’s.
Zhentao’s.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“Problem?”
“Yes.”
“Speak.”
“Carrion Palace found the building.”
Duan pushed away from the wall.
“Finally.”
Ji looked through the window.
Nothing.
No spiritual pressure.
No white masks.
Then the fire alarm sounded.
Someone screamed in the corridor.
Zhentao stood.
“They will not attack directly.”
“What will they do?”
“Burn the floor.”
Smoke appeared beneath the apartment door.
Ordinary smoke.
No spiritual signature.
Leng Yao moved towards the kitchen.
“Fire escape?”
“Balcony.”
“Seventeenth floor.”
“Yes.”
Duan grinned.
“Manageable.”
Feng opened the front door.
Flames filled the corridor.
Not ordinary.
Grey at the centre.
Rot fire.
The walls began blackening.
A neighbour stumbled from 1706 carrying a child.
Feng moved immediately.
He grabbed both.
Dragged them inside.
“Civilians,” Ji said.
Leng Yao looked at Zhentao.
“You chose an occupied building.”
“It was safer.”
“For you?”
“For them.
Until now.”
The neighbour coughed violently.
Her child’s face had gone pale.
No time.
Leng Yao opened the balcony door.
Wind entered.
“Duan.”
“Yes?”
“Get them down.”
Duan looked over the edge.
Seventeen floors.
“Alive?”
“Preferably.”
He picked up the woman.
Ji took the child.
They jumped.
No argument.
Both disappeared over the balcony.
Feng looked at Leng Yao.
“That is disturbing.”
“They will survive.”
“I meant how quickly they agreed.”
The ceiling cracked.
Rot fire entered the apartment.
Zhentao took one vial from the case.
Neutral sample.
He threw it across the flames.
The liquid burst.
White mist spread.
The Rot fire weakened.
“Useful,” Leng Yao said.
“Very expensive.”
“Less useful.”
They moved into the corridor.
Doors opened.
Residents panicked.
Smoke everywhere.
Carrion Palace had not come for a duel.
They had turned an apartment building into a weapon.
Leng Yao looked at Zhentao.
“Where are they?”
“Probably below.”
“Why?”
“To force us down.”
“And if we go up?”
“Roof trap.”
“You know that?”
“I trained them.”
Feng looked at him.
“That information continues to become worse.”
Leng Yao pointed towards the stairwell.
“Evacuate everyone upward.”
Zhentao frowned.
“I said—”
“I heard you.”
“Roof is trapped.”
“We are not going to the roof.”
Feng understood.
“Floor nineteen?”
“Sprinkler tank and maintenance bridge to the neighbouring tower.”
Zhentao looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“I can read building plans.”
No mystery required.
Feng started knocking on doors.
“Everyone out!
Stairs up!”
Ji and Duan returned through the balcony minutes later.
Duan’s coat was torn.
“Woman complained.”
“About?”
“My landing.”
“Was she alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then ignore her.”
“She called me old.”
“Accurate.”
Duan looked offended.
They moved residents upwards.
Rot fire climbed from below.
Leng Yao stayed at the rear.
Zhentao beside him.
“You could leave,” Zhentao said.
“So could you.”
“They came for me.”
“They killed my people yesterday.”
“They came for you then too.”
Leng Yao looked at him.
“What does Luo want?”
“You.”
“That answer is insufficient.”
“To complete the Gate vessel.”
“What happens if he succeeds?”
“I don’t know.”
Leng Yao stopped.
Zhentao looked at him.
“I genuinely don’t.”
“Then why stop him?”
“Because every person who did know became terrified.”
Good enough for now.
The stairwell door below burst open.
Three white-masked cultivators entered.
No speeches.
They attacked.
Feng met the first.
Ji took the second.
The third ran past them.
Straight for Zhentao.
Leng Yao intercepted.
Grey palm.
He dodged.
The attacker changed direction instantly.
Knife towards the ribs.
Leng Yao caught the wrist.
Rot surged.
He released before it reached bone.
The masked man followed with a headbutt.
Leng Yao took it.
Pain flashed.
He answered with an elbow.
Mask cracked.
The man stumbled.
Zhentao moved.
Fast.
Far faster than someone with a suppressed cultivation should have been.
Two fingers struck the attacker’s neck.
The masked man froze.
Then dropped.
Leng Yao looked at Zhentao.
“What was that?”
“Suppression technique.”
“Vessel?”
“Yes.”
“Can you teach it?”
“Yes.”
Straight answer.
The other two attackers realised their target had fallen.
One retreated.
Ji drove the butt of her spear into his knee.
Feng cut the other’s forearm.
Duan appeared behind them.
“Alive?”
“One,” Leng Yao said.
Duan hit the nearest man in the stomach.
Too hard.
The cultivator folded around the staff and passed out.
“Alive.”
“Technically.”
Good enough.
Another explosion shook the building.
Floor fifteen.
The fire intensified.
Zhentao looked down.
“They are collapsing the lower supports.”
“How long?”
“Minutes.”
Leng Yao looked upward.
Residents continued climbing.
Too slow.
He did not open the system.
Did not use Mandate.
He used Houshan communications.
“External team.”
Static.
Then response.
“Sir.”
“Neighbouring tower.
Maintenance bridge floor nineteen.
Secure landing area.”
“We’re moving.”
“Fire crews?”
“Blocked by spiritual contamination.”
“Get them respirators and neutralising agent from Helixion.”
Zhentao looked at him.
“You remembered.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Feng glanced towards Leng Yao.
“Helixion is legally closed.”
Leng Yao looked at him.
“Do you care?”
“No.”
“Then why mention it?”
“I am rebuilding context.”
Fair.
They reached nineteen.
Maintenance access locked.
Leng Yao kicked it.
Metal bent.
Duan kicked next.
Door flew inward.
Residents rushed onto the bridge.
Thirty metres to the neighbouring tower.
Wind tore through the open maintenance passage.
Children cried.
No one cared who owned which building.
No one cared about Mandate.
They just moved.
The floor beneath them shook.
Zhentao looked down.
“Now.”
The apartment tower groaned.
Leng Yao remained near the rear until the last resident crossed.
Ji waited beside him.
“Go.”
“You first.”
“No.”
“That is childish.”
“You are linked to Shen.”
“Not relevant.”
“That link may protect you.”
“I do not trust it.”
“Neither do I.”
Duan crossed while carrying the unconscious attacker.
Feng followed.
Zhentao remained.
Leng Yao looked at him.
“What are you doing?”
“The trap.”
“What trap?”
“Roof was not the only one.”
The tower tilted.
Zhentao pulled a small device from his pocket.
Pressed it.
A section of Floor Seventeen exploded outward.
Rot fire disappeared with it.
The tower stabilised slightly.
Leng Yao stared.
“You planted explosives.”
“Years ago.”
“In a residential building?”
“Structural emergency charges.”
“That does not improve it.”
“It did just save us.”
Fair.
They crossed.
Seconds later, the lower floors of the first tower collapsed inward.
Not the entire building.
Enough.
Smoke swallowed the street.
Fire crews moved closer.
Residents gathered in the neighbouring lobby.
No deaths.
Several injuries.
That mattered.
Leng Yao looked back at the ruined tower.
The Mirror Opposition link remained quiet.
No Fortune compensation.
No antagonist event.
This had nothing to do with Shen Mingzhi.
Good.
The captured Carrion cultivator woke as Houshan secured him.
He saw Zhentao.
His eyes filled with hatred.
“Traitor.”
Zhentao crouched.
“Who sent you?”
The man spat at him.
Missed.
Zhentao wiped his shoe.
“Luo?”
No answer.
“Who?”
The cultivator smiled.
“Your son.”
Zhentao stopped.
Leng Yao looked at him.
Feng looked between them.
Duan said, “That seems important.”
Zhentao’s face had gone completely still.
“You have a son?” Leng Yao asked.
No answer.
Leng Yao’s expression hardened.
“Direct answer.”
Zhentao looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Name.”
“Leng Shun.”
The family name hit harder than expected.
Feng stared.
“That name is not in the registry.”
“No.”
“Age?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Older than Leng Yao.
“Carrion Palace?”
Zhentao nodded.
“By choice?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
The prisoner laughed.
“He is Saint Child now.”
Duan looked at Zhentao.
“Former vessel father.
Saint Child son.”
“Not helping.”
Leng Yao faced the prisoner.
“Where is Leng Shun?”
The man smiled.
“Coming here.”
Leng Yao looked around at the ruined building.
“He already came.”
“No.”
The prisoner’s smile widened.
“This was the invitation.”
A phone rang inside Zhentao’s pocket.
Unknown number.
He answered.
No speaker.
Leng Yao held out his hand.
Zhentao gave him the phone.
A young man’s voice spoke.
“Cousin.”
Leng Yao said nothing.
The voice continued.
“My father talks too much.”
Zhentao’s jaw tightened.
Leng Shun laughed softly.
“I want to meet you.”
Leng Yao looked at the burning tower.
“Then meet me.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Now.”
A pause.
“You really are impatient.”
“Location.”
Another pause.
Then an address.
Not secret.
A public cultivation arena in Shanghai.
Midday.
Leng Yao asked, “Why there?”
“So you know I am not setting another fire.”
Better.
“Fine.”
Zhentao shook his head.
Leng Yao ignored him.
Leng Shun continued.
“Come alone.”
“No.”
A quiet laugh.
“At least pretend to negotiate.”
“No.”
“Bring whoever you want.”
“Better.”
“Tomorrow.
Noon.”
The call ended.
Zhentao grabbed the phone.
“You are not going.”
Leng Yao looked at him.
“Why?”
“Shun is stronger than Gu Chen.”
“How much?”
“Spirit Sea.”
Ji’s expression changed.
Duan stopped smiling.
Leng Yao remained still.
“Early?”
“No.”
“Middle?”
Zhentao looked at him.
“Peak.”
That was a problem.
A real one.
Leng Yao’s current cultivation could not match a peak Spirit Sea cultivator.
Even with his strange core.
Especially while suppressing Mirror advancement.
“What does he want?” Leng Yao asked.
“You.”
“Specific.”
“To prove he should have been the Gate vessel.”
There it was.
Not Heaven.
Not Qin.
Not Shen Mingzhi.
Family.
Carrion Palace.
Jealousy.
A man who believed Leng Yao possessed the future that should have been his.
Zhentao looked at him.
“Do not underestimate him.”
“I won’t.”
“Then don’t go.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Feng stepped beside Leng Yao.
“You cannot beat him.”
“Probably not.”
Ji looked at him.
“You are going anyway.”
“Yes.”
Duan sighed.
“I suppose I need another staff.”
Leng Yao looked at him.
“You are not fighting.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to see what Shun wants before you hit him.”
“That sounds restrictive.”
“It is.”
Zhentao grabbed Leng Yao’s arm.
“Listen to me.”
Leng Yao looked down at the hand.
Zhentao released him.
“Shun does not fight like Carrion Palace.”
“How?”
“He developed his own scripture.”
“Which does?”
“Consumes cultivation.”
Leng Yao’s expression changed.
“Like me.”
“No.”
Zhentao shook his head.
“You absorb foreign structures and process them.”
“Shun takes cultivation directly.”
“Permanent?”
“Yes.”
“And the victim?”
“Usually survives.”
“That almost sounds merciful.”
“They survive weak.”
Less so.
Ji looked towards Leng Yao.
“If he touches you?”
Zhentao answered.
“Your suppressed advancement becomes fuel.”
The Mirror compensation.
The Mandate energy stored around Leng Yao’s core.
Shun could potentially take it.
That created an interesting option.
Leng Yao thought.
Zhentao saw it.
“No.”
Leng Yao looked at him.
“You don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were considering letting him drain the Mirror pressure.”
“Yes.”
“That is insane.”
“Would it work?”
Zhentao said nothing.
Leng Yao waited.
“Would it?”
“Possibly.”
There.
Ji stepped closer.
“And what else would he take?”
“Cultivation.”
“How much?”
Zhentao looked at Leng Yao.
“That depends on how long Shun holds him.”
Dangerous.
But not useless.
Leng Yao looked at the ruined building again.
Tomorrow at noon.
Peak Spirit Sea.
Carrion Palace Saint Child.
His cousin.
And, apparently, another product of the same family disaster.
He had less than a day to prepare.
For once, there was no system timer.
He preferred this one.
Leng Yao handed the phone back.
“Return to the estate.”
Zhentao frowned.
“You agreed too quickly.”
“I have eleven hours.”
“For what?”
Leng Yao looked at him.
“To learn your suppression technique.”
Zhentao stared.
Then laughed once.
“You really are Jian’s son.”
Leng Yao started walking.
“Unfortunately for everyone.”