Hei Yin

"Except for pretending to be a tyrant, your acting as Wu Qiong was quite terrible."

Emerging from Yuan's shadow, Hei Yin remarked sweetly, her voice as honeyed as it was unsettling.

Both Yuan's and Huo Yan's attention shifted to the woman sitting across from him. Her eyes, sharp and unblinking, scrutinized Yuan with an intensity that left no room to breathe.

Though she wore a veil, it was thin—currently transparent—and only covered the upper half of her face. The lower part remained exposed, allowing the curve of her lips and the smile hidden in her eyes to shine through.

To Yuan, the mirth in her gaze was as clear as day.

'She's beautiful too,' he thought, almost in admiration.

Somehow, even amid the rising panic in his chest, he had a moment to appreciate her beauty…

…right before his thoughts were thrown into chaos.

Yuan's heart pounded violently. A tide of panic surged within him.

Since awakening, many quiet fear had been gnawing at the corner of his mind, one of them being—Hei Yin.

What if she could tell?

What if she discovered the truth—that he had awakened, that he was no longer the Wu Qiong she once knew?

He had hoped this moment would never come. But it was inevitable.

After all, Hei Yin knew Wu Qiong better than Wu Qiong knew himself.

Locking eyes with Hei Yin's bottomless black gaze, Yuan forced himself to remain calm. He mustered a proud, arrogant smile.

"Sister Yin, after months apart, have you..."

But the words froze in his throat.

Hei Yin's smile deepened, eyes gleaming with amusement. There was mischief in her look, and a dangerous sort of delight in her smile.

She wasn't just entertained—she was expecting to be entertained.

Yuan realized with sinking dread: trying to reason with Hei Yin was like trying to teach a stone to dance.

Hopeless.

He gave up the thought of convincing her he was still Wu Qiong. Instead, he began strategizing—how to persuade her not to kill him.

And somewhere within the discarded thought, an idea took shape.

"Well... I wasn't exactly trying to act like Wu Qiong, you see," Yuan said, his voice firm, though laced with unavoidable helplessness.

Hei Yin tilted her head playfully, the childlike gesture at odds with the ominous glint in her eyes.

"Not even pretending? That's quite brave of you."

Then, with a tone as sweet as sugar—and just as sharp—she asked, "Now, tell me~ Why shouldn't I kill you?"

As the words left her lips, Huo Yan's shadow twitched. In less than a second, it slithered across the floor and wrapped around Yuan's neck.

"Argh—!"

Yuan groaned as the shadow constricted, cutting off his breath. His face turned pale, the air in his lungs rapidly thinning.

'How can I answer if you won't let me speak?', he screamed inwardly.

"Stop!"

Huo Yan's voice rang out, and she lunged at Hei Yin, arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to stop her.

She had heard the question—understood enough to act—and knew that they hadn't yet listened to Yuan's side of the story.

And according to Hei Yin's own words, she figured out that it was Yuan—the possessor—who had saved her.

That was reason enough.

Unlike the monsters at that filthy auction, this man, supposedly a possessor had shown her compassion.

He had reminded everyone she was a person, not an object to be sold. That she had a name. That she mattered.

That act of kindness, offered at her lowest point, had planted something within her. And now she was willing to take risk to defend him.

Even against someone who could manipulate her own shadow.

But just as she moved, she felt it—resistance.

Her own body betrayed her. She couldn't move. Not even an inch. She was paralyzed, forced to watch helplessly as Yuan's life slipped away.

'Stop. Please stop.' Her mind screamed, but her lips could form no words.

At that moment, Yuan managed to gasp, "R-r-ein-car-nation…"

Everything halted.

Hei Yin's expression shifted slightly.

"Hmm…"

She hummed thoughtfully, as if tasting the word on her tongue.

"So… you reincarnated as Wu Qiong," she murmured, "and awakened during the auction…"

Her voice dropped to a whisper, contemplative.

"And after awakening, your past life's memories resurfaced, becoming the present—while Wu Qiong's memories faded into the background."

She pondered for a moment longer.

"Which means... right now, you're more like your past life than Wu Qiong."

Hei Yin leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

Yuan's eyes widened. He instinctively tried to retrear—but his body remained frozen.

That lingering smile stayed on Hei Yin's face. Her beauty was unnatural, ethereal, and her hollow gaze left him momentarily dazed.

But the spell broke when she asked:

"What was your name in your past life?"

Yuan hesitated. He considered lying. Then gave up.

"Call me Yuan."

A flicker of something passed through Hei Yin's dark eyes. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she nodded.

"Yuan~" she echoed, like she was remembering a name long forgotten.

Leaning back into her seat, she asked calmly, "So, what now, Yuan? Will you be Wu Qiong~, or will you be yourself~?"

"If you act like Wu Qiong, you'll end up doing things you'll despise. But if you act like yourself... people will notice the change."

She paused, then added with a faint edge:

"And not everyone is as understanding as me."

Yuan clenched his fists.

She was right. He had been asking himself the same question.

Could he continue pretending to be Wu Qiong?

No.

After inheriting Wu Qiong's memories—raw and unfiltered—he knew the truth. Wu Qiong was trash. A filth of society.

He would rather risk being exposed than become that man again.

But being exposed... was dangerous.

Possession of a body was the domain of Demons and Demonic Cultivators—names loathed and feared.

To hunt them was noble.

Those who captured or killed such beings were lavished with praise, rewarded with riches, titles, social status.

For anyone with ambition—resources, connections, recognition—hunting demons was a golden opportunity.

And Hei Yin was right again: others wouldn't accept his lie so easily.

Actually, Yuan wasn't sure how she had.

Or maybe… he hadn't lied at all.

Maybe he had reincarnated.

Or transmigrated.

Or maybe… he was Wu Qiong with Yuan's soul and memories.

As his thoughts spiraled, his recent action connected himself with an answer.

And his gaze drifted to Huo Yan.

Beautiful, innocent Huo Yan.

'She's my answer', he realized, and an excess amount of joy erupted, calming the panic in his heart.

Hei Yin noticed the glance. She was far too sharp not to.

She knew instantly what he was thinking.

Yuan had already shown signs of affection toward Huo Yan in front of others.

And as a man once said: "Pretty girls make fools out of wise men."

Then who was Wu Qiong… could he not become a fool in love?

Could he not change because of love?

If Yuan and Huo Yan pretended to be in love—if they played the part well—then perhaps, over time, the people of Taichian City would believe that Wu Qiong had changed.

Reformed, even.

But Hei Yin didn't like that plan.

Not at all.

She had seen it.

A glimmer of real affection in Yuan's eyes.

And if she saw it, then surely Huo Yan had, too.

There was a faint blush on the girl's cheeks, and she was suddenly, awkwardly, trying to hide her face.

Hei Yin narrowed her eyes.

She did not like this.

Not one bit.

With an innocent smile, she coolly said, "So, you're going to rely on a Demoness."

"Risk move~"