Ouyang Qingdan jotted down the delivery address and handed it to the young bartender, saving both cab fare and the lecture that would’ve come with it.

Taking the slip, she heard the youth sigh quietly—a sigh heavy with resignation, as if shaking his head in sorrow over futile persuasion.

That sigh had become the most frequent sound greeting Ouyang since her return.

One kind mourned the helplessness of a changing world; the other sighed at her refusal to follow their wishes.

She understood their desire to protect her. Stepping off the elevator onto the ground floor, Ouyang stood before a flower shop nestled in the white office building. The subtle floral scent eased her restless heart.

Peering upward through dark blue sunglasses at the ashen sky, she only wished to preserve the status quo—yet others always shattered it.

Her enhanced vision and hearing now far surpassed ordinary humans. The sunglasses conveniently diverted attention from her face.

Through the lenses, she spotted a youth in a blue shirt loitering near the bakery across the street. Posing as an office worker, he checked his watch nonchalantly while stealing glances toward the flower shop whenever he thought no one noticed.

Ouyang pretended not to see him. She strolled leisurely toward the twin skyscrapers, overhearing the office worker mutter into his earpiece from the opposite sidewalk:

"Target is moving."

Unable to walk openly under sunlight, Ouyang ducked into shadowy, deserted alleys, circling repeatedly. Footsteps dogged her relentlessly. Then—a sharp *shink* of metal scraping stone echoed behind her.

She halted. Raised by Brother Long since childhood, Ouyang felt no fear. Even in this petite female form, with wrists far weaker than before, she knew how to subdue an attacker.

Footsteps quickened. A blade sliced the air, sending a chilling gust toward her neck. Murderous intent pressed down like a physical weight.

Ouyang rose onto the ball of her right foot, fists clenched, ready to spin and strike—

Then she leapt. Her body twisted mid-air as if defying gravity, hovering effortlessly. Below, the blue-shirted man gaped up at her, his expression mirroring her own shock—as if witnessing an impossible circus act.

Biting her lip, Ouyang fought for balance and landed silently behind him.

Her landing was smoother than a pro athlete’s. Before he could process what he’d seen, she snatched the tiny black earpiece hidden in his right ear and crushed it, severing his connection.

Realizing brute force was useless, the man dropped his knife and bolted. A shout stopped him cold:

"Brother Long sent you to spy on me, didn’t he?!"

"How did you—? Damn it, I shouldn’t have admitted that..."

*He’s just a kid. He’ll never reach Brother Long anyway.* Glancing back, he saw the youth rooted to the spot—no pursuit. *Lucky break.* He turned to flee faster—

***BAM!***

A frying pan materialized at the alley’s mouth. His face met the cold metal, and he crumpled, unconscious.

"Leave him to me. I’ll make him vanish without a trace. No pain, no clues."

A familiar voice came from the corner. The blond bartender stepped out, frying pan in hand.

"You... How did you find me? Were you tracking me too?!"

Ouyang’s blood ran cold. Someone had tailed *both* of them.

They stared at the unconscious spy. Ouyang frowned. "What about Brother Long? If his man disappears, he’ll tear your café apart."

"Won’t happen." The youth smoothed his wind-tousled blond hair, having rushed here so fast he’d brought his kitchenware. "After Long left yesterday, he planted watchers. He planned to eliminate you the moment you reappeared. This disappearance? Expected. No worries."

The moment Ouyang left the café, the manager had hacked local surveillance, blacking out cameras in the district. He’d sent the blond youth to follow, anticipating Ouyang’s reluctance to harm the spy.

The bartender’s gaze turned icy as he stared at the unconscious man. "No one in the Xiaomo Family is good. Not even your brother, Xinglong Xiang."

"Listen here," Ouyang snapped, hostility sharpening her voice. "I might’ve had a shred of goodwill toward you before, but if you insult Brother Long once more—"

Having dug into Ouyang Qingdan’s past, the manager and bartender were certain: Long would send assassins the next time she entered their café.

The blond youth nudged the spy’s limp form with his boot. "That world you cling to? Ruthless. No mercy. You’d be happier back in Zero District, breeding happily with the Bloodkin Prince. Better for everyone."

He thrust a red-ribboned gift box into Ouyang’s hands. "A present from the Bloodkin Prince. Call him if you like it."

"A gift?"

She tore open the box. Nestled inside lay a sleek, adjustable black leather collar. A white tag bore custom-engraved English lettering. At the clasp, a tiny bat-wing emblem was carved into the leather.

"It’ll look adorable on you," the youth grinned wickedly.

Ouyang brandished the collar like a weapon. "Adorable?! This is for pets! Take it back to his damn cat!"

"Refuse," he tapped his own throat meaningfully, "and your disguise won’t hold up for long~"

*Damn that Bloodkin Prince. Leading me by the nose.*

Teeth grinding, Ouyang glared at him. With furious reluctance, she fastened the collar around her neck. It fit perfectly.

"Good girl~"

"Get lost!"

The blond youth waved without turning back. "Stay safe out there. Change your mind? My café’s always open."