Chapter Three: Fang Yuheng's Hospitality

Two days had passed since the incident that should have claimed Yuheng's life.

Within the modest walls of the Fang residence, a humble home where the past clung like old wallpaper, the Fang family—composed only of two souls, mother and son—sat at the dining table. As was their ritual, they paused to offer a short prayer, heads bowed in reverent silence, before beginning their morning meal.

Steam rose gently from the breakfast buffet, the scent of seasoned dumplings and noodles wafting softly through the air. Yet, despite the warmth of the food and the serenity of the moment, Jun sat in silence—his heart quietly disturbed, and his mind far from calm.

Yuheng noticed the look on her son's face, and she didn't seem quite proud of—his eyes were squinted, "What seems to be the problem, my dear?," she asked directly.

Jun faced his mother, "Why?," he asked.

Yuheng's eyebrows arched like ancestral bows drawn to full tension, her gaze narrowing as confusion danced within her irises. "What do you mean by, why?" she replied, her tone still casual, though she already sensed the storm that brewed beneath his calm surface.

Jun raised an eyebrow, his arms folded judginly—being aware that his mother knew of what he was implying. Two day ago, after the incident that occured when the Fang Dynasty Bookstore was broken into by Zhao Meilin and her group of mercenaries, right after a heated battle that didn't have the tendency of reaching at least an hour, Fang Yuheng had saved the young woman who threatened to take her life.

Yuheng read her son's expression and body language and she already knew what the problem was. She sighed, groaning at the same time. "Calm yourself, Jun. I assure you the brat will come around," she muttered, continuing with her meal.

"No mom-" Jun protested as he attempted to speak against his mother.

Yuheng, on the other hand, was enraged by her son's disagreement, "I've already explained, to you already, child. Do not go against my words!," she scorned, shouting loudly.

Jun became quiet, sitting still as if he wasn't affected by his mother's scream but he knew that her words had to be obeyed. The dining room was quiet, and the mother and son sat in awkward silence—Yuheng eating her meal as she turned to face her son who had a strong expression on his face, not moving an inch or planning to eat anything from the table.

Yuheng sighed, being unable to bear the upset look on her son's face, "I'm sorry, Jun," she apologized, her tone sympathetic and caring, "I'm aware that I am wrong for letting a criminal stay at our home, but I want you to be considerate. The brat is human as well"

Jun exhaled deeply, his shoulders easing slightly. In that fleeting moment, Yuheng's words struck him—not because of what she said, but because of how it was said. For the first time in the last two years after her husband's death, he heard her speak not as a warrior, nor as a mother guarding her pride—but as a woman carrying regret.

Grabbing the bowl of noodles, he stuffed his mouth. Yuheng smiled proudly as she watched her son.

Inside one of the rooms, shrouded in grey with the windows being sealed by old curtains—a bandaged up Zhao Meilin laid, squirming and rolling on the bed. In the subconsciousness of her mind, voices began to whisper profanities at her as fingers were pointed at her.

Meilin found a younger part of herself being struck by her father across the face, her mother stood behind, binded with ropes and unresponsive. Her father joined in whispering with a hoarse voice, his voice set aside from the light voices that whispered:

"Kill the tigress. Kill the tigress. Kill the tigress"

'No,' she whispered in her mind, stretching her hand towards the ghostly figures in form of her family members—and with a powerful force, they faded away, 'I refuse to kill'

The young woman's eyes opened as she lurched upwards, feeling better as if nothing had happened—looking down at her body, she found herself clothed in male garments, 'What is this, now?' she whispered in her thoughts, raising her head to look around the dry and cold room, 'Where am I?'

Annoyed, she tore off the extra layers of bandages wrapped around her head and torso as those parts of her body had received stronger hits—pressing her head, she noticed that she felt no single pain at all, remembering the hit she took from Fang Yuheng.

Fang Yuheng, she just remembered—she engaged in a fight with Fang Yuheng earlier, "What is the time?," she questioned, rising on her feet only to fall down on her face.

Turning around to see what had restricted her from walking, she found a big layer of bandages holding her entire legs together. Meilin was annoyed by this, gritting her teeth in anger, "Damn it," she cursed, clawing at the bandages—and with much effort, she successfully got all the bandages from her leg.

Meilin breathed a sigh of relief, huffing as her chest rose and fell continuously, 'Finally,' she whispered to herself inwardly, placing her palm against her sternum. She now continued, looking through the dark room—her hand finally feeling the old and neat fabric of a curtain.

With a swing, Meilin opened the curtains revealing a burst of golden sunlight, illuminating the entire room with its golden glow. Meilin shielded her eyes like a bat looking for coverage and with a few adjustments of her pupils, she could now see how the bedroom looked.

Meilin stared in shock at the simple, modern, yet luxurious wooden walls of the home she stood in—the ornaments being hanged on the walls, the dragon designs on the translucent but blurry wooden doors. At the side of the bed she stood from was a cup of hot purple liquid, smoke escaping from the rim like a ghostly appendage with a boiling kettle that had been left beside it, plugged to a boiling ring.

Meilin made her way to the door, sliding it open with all her strength and before her was a sight, before her was the courtyard of a traditional 'Siheyuan' home, the green grasses leveled to a neat height.

"Hey, brat. You finally came around," a voice said from behind her before she tried to walk away.

The voice sounded quite familiar in Zhao Meilin's ears and she was sure she had heard that voice somewhere before. Turning around, she spotted Yuheng and Jun who had been taking a walk around their home—her eyes met with Jun who scowled at her before turning to Yuheng who smiled brightly with a chuckle.

As she met their gaze, Zhao Meilin's fists were tightened, biting her lip ferociously. Yuheng and Jun watched with a look of concern etched on their faces.

Suddenly.

A drop of liquid escaped Meilin's eyes as she sniffled, moaning as tears streamed down her eyes. Seeing that she stood in what looked like Fang Yuheng's home, she was sure that she had been saved and catered for by the old woman and her son despite trying to kill her, and this sudden act of kindness was enough for her to burst out in tears.

The mother and son watched in awe as the Meilin dropped to her knees despite parts of her arms and legs still covered in bandages, slamming her head hard across the stone floor, she shouted at the top of her lungs, "I'm sorry. Please forgive me!!," she whimpered, shaking violently but she still continued,

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you, Mrs Fang Yuheng!"

Yuheng and Jun shared a short awkward glance at each other before darting their attention back to the crying lady. Yuheng walked up to Meilin—her footsteps prompting Zhao Meilin to raise her head, tears streaming from her eyes.

Yuheng stared down at the woman with a menacing glare, striking fear into Meilin—but then, her demeanor shifted as she stroked her palm against Meilin's head, "When we crossed paths, I had thought that you were nothing but a criminal, a scum who shouldn't be forgiven for their crimes," she said, the fear that she had struck Meilin now ceasing, "But a wise man once told me that despite our differences in this world. No matter which part of this world we come from, we all deserve a second chance at least"

Zhao Meilin stared into Fang Yuheng's eyes, the look of shock evident in her expression and with a joyful expression on her face she spoke, "Th... thank you,' she stuttered.

"So what'd you say, brat?" Yuheng asked, lending a helping hand to the weeping woman, "Would you like to join us?"

Zhao Meilin hesitated, slowly raising her hand and with a final gesture she held the old woman's hand. Fang Jun who stared from far with his arms folded and a stern expression finally let his guard down, his hands weakening as they dropped—he sighed.

——

After their bonding, the trio stood together in the living room. Zhao Meilin was on her knees cleaning off the last few drops of tears flowing from her eyes.

Yuheng stood before her, arms crossed, her tone suddenly cool again.

"Now that you're under our roof and not in a cell, I suggest you start talking," she said with calm authority. "Tell us everything you know."

Meilin nodded, eyes wide like a child awaiting judgment.

"Yes... ask me anything. I'll answer truthfully."

Yuheng stepped back and gestured to Jun.

Jun stepped forward, his violet eyes burning with intensity.

"First," he began, "tell us your name. Then tell us—everything. Why you chose to attack my mother. And know this—don't you dare lie. I have the ability to see through lies."

The air stilled. Meilin's eyes widened.

He can see through lies?

Nobody told her that. She had gathered every rumor, every tale—only one detail stood out: "Old Woman."

They said Yuheng was frail. Weak.

They lied.

And now—this. Her son had such supernatural ability?

No one had told her...

This family was not ordinary..