CHAPTER 5: The Bastard Thief Lucky Ping

Lui Ming waited until nightfall to make his move.

Under the cover of darkness, he slipped out of his room and tiptoed across the overgrown courtyard like a thief in his own home. His destination: the mysterious storage room tucked in the corner of the estate.

But instead of going in, he veered to the side, crouching beside the wall where thick bushes had long blocked the view. Carefully, he reached out and pushed the branches aside.

There it was.

A hole.

Not too big. Not too small. And Suspiciously not rat-sized.

He'd first noticed it last night while tracking one of his poison test subjects. The rat had darted into these bushes—and hadn't come back out. That alone would've been enough to set off anyone's internal alarm bells, but Lui Ming had chalked it up to exhaustion and pushed it aside. Now, with the deadline closing in, he didn't have the luxury of ignoring odd holes in the wall.

He crouched in front of it, inspecting the opening with narrowed eyes.

It was dirty.

No—*offensively* dirty.

Crusted with mud, spiderwebs, clumps of fur, and what he was 92% sure was mold. There were uneven stains. Stray feathers. A twig in the shape of something *unclean*.

He felt his OCD twitch like a warning bell.

Just looking at it made his skin crawl. His fingers itched to grab a broom, a rag, and three kinds of disinfectant. Instead, he grabbed nothing and stood frozen like a glitching puppet.

This was the only path out. He couldn't risk using the front gate—the maids' room directly faced it, and for whatever reason, they never *closed their door*. Even the slightest creak from the gate latch might wake them.

This hole was the only option.

But.

He stared again. The longer he looked, the harder it got to breathe. Every imperfection was screaming at him in high definition.

"I can't… I can't do this." He was pale now, genuinely shaken. "Is this what having OCD feels like?."

He got to his knees. Slowly. Hesitantly. Held his breath.

Then promptly scrambled back with a gasp, wiping his hands frantically on his robes.

He wasn't *afraid*. This wasn't fear. This was *principle*.

How was he supposed to crawl through that like some desperate fugitive rat?

Wait. No. That's *exactly* what he was.

He took a deep breath, trying to rationalize it. He'd survived worse. Med school. Public speaking. That one hospital volunteer shift where someone threw up on his shoes.

But now that thinking of those things...he felt like vomiting on the spot, he felt extremely disadvantageous right now.

He stood there, frozen between survival instinct and a deeply pathological need for cleanliness, muttering to himself like a man being emotionally blackmailed by a hole.

"If i give up on my plan i'll either die under the wrath of the male lead or die in the hands of my family members and some narrow minded maids. Who know if i'll even get a third chance."

He slowly dropped down. Hands on the ground.

Then knees.

He inhaled one last breath of semi-clean air.

"Let's just pray i don't get into heaven," he whispered, and crawled in—shuddering all the way.

Lui Ming emerged on the other side of the wall gasping like a man who had just survived a siege, filth clinging to his sleeves, hair, and quite possibly his soul.

He stumbled to his feet and immediately began brushing invisible germs off his robes with the desperation of someone who had just made peace with crawling through the digestive tract of the earth. His hands shook. His eye twitched. He muttered a few curses, then paused, sniffed his sleeve, and nearly gagged.

"Disgusting," he whispered. "I have lost a piece of myself tonight."

He adjusted the four cloth bundles hidden inside his sleeves—each filled with packets of his *Heaven's Wrath Rat Powder*—and set off into the night like a traveling salesman with trauma.

The streets beyond the estate walls were far more alive than he'd expected. Torches flickered against aged walls, casting warm light over cobbled alleys. Stalls were still open, hawking noodles, trinkets, and dubious elixirs. He passed a man selling roasted sweet potatoes and another shouting about fortune readings based on toenail shape. The night market was… chaotic. But it pulsed with energy.

Lui Ming wandered cautiously, keeping an eye out for a stall owner desperate enough to take a chance on a strange product with death in the name. He didn't need a miracle—just someone poor, shameless, or flexible enough in morals to help him turn a profit.

But then—he heard it.

Thudding footsteps.

Angry shouting.

And the unmistakable slap-slap-slap of someone sprinting in soft shoes.

He turned just in time to see a rotund, red-faced man charging down the street, sputtering curses and waving a wooden ladle like a war banner.

"STOP RIGHT THERE YOU THIEVING BASTARD!"

Behind him—was the 'thieving bastard' in question.

A boy.

Or rather, a *boy-shaped* individual, running with the ease of someone who clearly made a habit of this. He had delicate features, big eyes filled with mock panic, and a half-eaten candied hawthorn skewer still dangling from his mouth.

Adorable. Innocent. Suspiciously light on his feet.

And headed straight for Lui Ming.

Before he could react, the boy collided into him like a bouncy ball into a brick wall. His small hand immediately latched onto Lui Ming's wrist with terrifying familiarity.

"Oh no!" the boy cried. "Kind older brother! Save me! I'm just a weak little youth being wrongfully accused!"

Lui Ming blinked. "Wait, what—?"

The next thing he knew, they were *running*. Or rather—the boy was dragging him down the alley like a human meat shield, weaving expertly through crates, crates, and confused onlookers.

"What's happening?!" Lui Ming wheezed.

"We're bonding!" the boy chirped cheerfully. "Isn't it nice?"

"Nice!? Who the fuck are you?"

" oh? this big brother curses? "

Behind them, the fat man's voice grew fainter as they took a sharp turn and ducked through a side alley so narrow even the shadows looked skinny. After a few minutes, the boy finally stopped, tugging Lui Ming into the cover of an abandoned temple entrance and peeking out like a squirrel checking for hawks.

They stood there panting—one confused, the other entirely too smug.

"I think we lost him," the boy grinned, hands on his hips. "That's the third time this week. I'm getting better."

"You dragged me into a chase for a stolen skewer!" Lui Ming hissed, brushing dirt off his sleeve. "Your reason is?"

"You looked clean and confused. People trust clean, confused people." The boy smiled

Lui Ming shouted out whatever came to mind—random complaints, scattered curses, all noise and no substance. Honestly, he wasn't even mad. He was just copying what should be the proper reaction if someone got dragged into street chaos by a thief. Anyone else in his position would probably be furious. So he mimicked it. Loudly. Then paused, realized none of it felt natural, and promptly felt like an idiot.d offered what remained of the candy stick like a peace offering.

"I'm Ping An, by the way. But everyone calls me 'Lucky Ping'."

Lui Ming stared at him. 

Something about the boy made his instincts twitch. His face was too youthful, his eyes too bright, and his voice carried the kind of casual mischief that came from years of being suspiciously untouchable.

He looked seventeen.

He acted twelve.

And somehow, he radiated the energy of a thousand stock market crashes and recoveries all at once.

Lui Ming didn't trust him.

Which, of course, meant he was probably going to be useful.

"...Su Feiyu," he muttered, cautiously. "...Do you know where i can sell some..stuff."

Ping An's ears perked.

"Oh?" He leaned in like a rabbit sniffing out gold. "Are you about to offer me something sketchy?"

"You see it as you see it so just tell me."

Ping An's grin widened.

"Well, Older Brother you're in luck! i happen to be a business man, let's hear it."

Lui Ming looked at him . His expression impassive " A theif can also be a business man? You remind me of a scammer"

Ping An's face almost cracked " Older Brother dont listen to what that fat man said. he stole something from me so its only fair to steal from him back is it not ?"

" i see"

" So Does Older Brother trust me ?"

" no.."