CHAPTER 12: .........

Mu Lingfeng turned to Ping An, his gaze unreadable.

Then, without warning, his expression softened. Just a little.

"I just came to check if you're alright," he said evenly. "I clearly remember telling you to leave this city. But you're still here. So I had to remind you… again."

His voice held no obvious threat, yet the weight behind each word felt like a blade slowly unsheathing.

Ping An's lips parted in silent protest, but nothing came out.

Lui Ming's brow furrowed. He looked between the two of them, the tension palpable, thick in the narrow alley like a storm pressing down on their shoulders.

"…What are you talking about?" he asked, gaze flicking from Ping An to Mu Lingfeng.

Mu Lingfeng didn't answer right away. His back was still turned to them, his robe outlined in soft shadow. Then, almost lazily, he turned his head slightly to the side and smiled.

"Oh. It's just a bet between me and Ping An," he said, voice casual.

A small laugh followed—quiet, almost playful.

But Lui Ming didn't smile.

He stared at that curved mouth, at the way it sat too perfectly on Mu Lingfeng's face. That smile… it didn't reach his eyes.

It was hollow.

Beautifully crafted, but entirely empty.

Something inside Lui Ming stirred.

He's smiling, but he doesn't mean it.

Lui Ming wasn't good with emotions. His past life clinical, cold, driven by routine left little room for warmth or sentiment. He didn't feel things the way others did.

But he could see them.

He could see the cracks in people. The tremble behind a voice, the tension in a hand, the slight pause before a lie. He had relied on that instinct like a sixth sense.

And right now, that same sense whispered clearly to him:

Mu Lingfeng wasn't fine.

That smile? It wasn't amusement. It was a mask. One carved by survival, pain, and distance. The kind of expression that only people who had no one to trust wore on their face.

Lui Ming's eyes narrowed slightly. His thoughts raced, sharper than before.

This didn't happen in the book.

Or at least… not in the parts he remembered. The novel had been chaotic in parts, its pacing skewed, minor characters glossed over but this? This alley, this confrontation, this Mu Lingfeng… none of it matched.

He didn't even know which characters body he had possessed.

Did I fall into the body of a side character? A background filler? Or… someone who was never meant to meet Mu Lingfeng at all?

The realization sent a small, bitter chill down his spine.

And worse he now realized something else.

If he tried to force his way into Mu Lingfeng's path…

If he pushed too hard, said the wrong thing, reached too far…

Mu Lingfeng would kill him.

Without hesitation. Without remorse.

That kind of smile it didn't belong to someone who offered second chances.

Lui Ming's fingers curled at his side.

So I can't follow him. Not yet. Not without a reason too good to refuse. A bait too useful to throw away.

He sighed silently in his heart.

And I absolutely can't go back to the Su residence tonight.

After feeling that brief pulse of murderous intent cold and bone-deep Lui Ming knew.

He wouldn't survive the next morning.

His only choice now was to move forward.

Quietly. 

Mu Lingfeng turned back fully toward them now, the false smile gone from his lips. His expression was neutral, but the air around him still shimmered faintly with the weight of his presence.

"I've said what I came to say," he murmured. "Do with it what you like."

Then, as suddenly as he arrived, he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the alley.

Lui Ming watched him go, the silhouette of a man who'd returned from hell itself and might very well send others there.

Ping An, still stiff with tension, finally let out a breath like he'd been holding it for minutes.

"…That lunatic," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's always like this. Says one thing, means another, throws daggers with his eyes and calls it a 'reminder.' What a pain."

Lui Ming didn't respond.

He was still staring in the direction Mu Lingfeng had disappeared.

Ping An who was now known as Lang Yu stood silent 

Lang Yu stared silently at Lui Ming. It took more effort than expected to get the words out.

"Brother Feiyu…"

Lui Ming turned toward him, his face unreadable yet tinged with a complicated expression.

Lang Yu panicked inwardly. "U-um, Brother Feiyu, I—"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Lui Ming cut in, his voice firm.

Lang Yu froze, mouth still half-open. He stood there, unwilling to speak but unable to move.

Lui Ming met his eyes. Calm. Steady.

Lang Yu held his breath.

His heart was pounding so hard he was sure Lui Ming could hear it. Faster than it should've been. It felt embarrassing. 

"You had your reasons," Lui Ming said. Then added after a pause, "Besides, we're not that close."

Lang Yu's cheeks flushed faintly. "Back when Mu Lingfeng asked us what our relationship was, you said—"

"Business partners. Yes."

Lang Yu bit his lower lip. He looked down, gathering whatever courage he had left.

"But… I don't want that relationship."

"Huh? You don't want to work together?"

"It's not that!" Lang Yu's voice cracked slightly. He clutched at the front of his robes, trying to calm the restless heat inside him.

He didn't know when it had started. Somewhere between their quiet talks and subtle looks, he'd realized something hollow inside him had been filled. He was almost 900 years old, had lived through storms and betrayals. Never had he once fell in love, but this strange mortal with unreadable eyes had undone him.

Lang Yu stepped closer.

"Brother Feiyu," he said softly, "I see you as more than a business partner… you've become special to me."

Then, gently, he cupped Lui Ming's cheek.

It was warm. Softer than he expected. His thumb moved instinctively, tracing the curve of his skin with a feather-light caress. He blushed again harder this time and leaned in, eyes fluttering shut.

The world slowed.

His lips were just a breath away from touching Lui Ming's.

And then—

Lui Ming pulled back.

Lang Yu's eyes opened feeling the retreat.

The first thing he saw was Lui Ming's face turned slightly away, pink lips pressed together, lashes trembling lightly under the soft glow of the alley's lantern. His cheeks were faintly colored, and his eyes avoided Lang Yu's entirely.

To Lang Yu, the sight was devastatingly beautiful.

He looked… shy.

Startled. Almost bashful.

Lang Yu's heart skipped wildly. His ears turned red.

He turned his face to the side quickly, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion and heat crawling up his neck.

But Lui Ming… hadn't moved back because he was flustered.

He had simply felt uncomfortable.

He hoped Lang Yu would take the hint and stop.

Lui Ming glanced at him from the corner of his eye, silent and unsure, and thought to himself:

'I have a feeling a misunderstanding has just begun.'