Night fell like still water.

Peony fled desperately through the narrow alleys between buildings, carefully dodging trash cans, cardboard boxes, and soda cans to avoid making a sound.

His once burly frame had shrunk to average human size, his body covered in horrifying burns that looked seared by fire.

“Lightning technique… what tier of lightning technique was that?!”

Damn it!

Peony spat out a mouthful of filthy blood. Today was truly cursed.

He hadn’t even run into anyone from ‘Evilbane’—instead, he’d stumbled straight into something far worse!

But in that moment, Peony felt a chill.

He saw it—his own shadow, stretched long by moonlight, flickering erratically.

He saw it—the darkness crawling up the walls, pulsing in and out of visibility.

A light source. Something was closing in fast from behind!

Whirling around in terror, Peony faced that nightmare figure once more.

The silver-haired girl leaned forward, her slender eyebrows tightly furrowed, crimson arcs of electricity dancing in her eyes. Fists clenched, body glowing, she surged forward like a thunder dragon weaving through the alley’s depths.

As her dress swayed, killing intent arrived without a sound.

Chen Yanyu’s delicate, lovely face was frozen in unprecedented coldness.

“Die!”

From between her jade-white teeth came a voice sharp as shattering ice.

Her pearl-like nails dug deep into her palms until her fingers flushed red. Chen Yanyu’s small fist shot forward.

The man roared in shock and fury. His flesh grotesquely swelled, forming a blooming-flower barrier.

But—

*Thud.*

Peony’s shadow on the wall twisted, as if a piece had vanished. Then…

Crimson blood droplets erupted like torrential rain, mingling with shattered bone and flesh, splattering the entire wall.

Even the pitch-black shadow seemed stained an eerie blood-red.

Half of Peony’s body was obliterated by Chen Yanyu’s punch, exposing a spine grotesque as a centipede.

He flew backward, slamming into the wall, staring at the girl in disbelief.

Such terrifying power!

Dragon power!

In Peony’s trembling eyes reflected a pair of sacred dragon horns atop the girl’s head.

A dragon?! Why did I cross a dragon?! Do dragons truly exist?!

Gritting his teeth, Peony channeled the “Blood Demon Refining Spirit Art,” his flesh writhing like worms, crawling to mend the ruin.

“Don’t you dare run!”

Chen Yanyu’s pale, slender fingers seized his ankle mid-air and slammed him down—shattering the alley’s low, crumbling wall completely.

She had changed.

Or perhaps this was always her true self:

The little girl who, shattered by pain, destroyed everything around her… then sat alone in the wreckage, weeping silently.

Chen Yanyu had made peace with it all.

Until she saw Luo Qingchuan, drenched in blood.

Her jade-like fingers rose. A storm raged endlessly within her golden pupils.

A blazing pillar of lightning erupted toward the rubble where Peony lay.

*Missed.*

Peony rolled away—his will to live burning fiercely.

This girl… too terrifying! She’s not human. Absolutely not!

I must escape… Devoured half my life by those lofty bastards, too broke at my lowest to buy clothes—don’t I deserve to take back what’s mine?!

Even knowing death was near.

Even knowing there was no way out.

Half his body gone, Peony still staggered toward the alley’s end, limping desperately.

*Thud.*

A thin lightning bolt pierced his leg. He collapsed.

Peony turned back, stunned, watching the snow-haired girl approach step by step.

Why… had the lightning shrunk?

Right… right… Such earth-shaking power couldn’t be sustained.

So it weakened… or perhaps…

She thinks lightning’s too *clean* for me?!

For the first time, Peony trembled on the ground, paralyzed by fear.

Chen Yanyu’s face held no expression. Dazed, she raised her fist.

“Miss Chen!”

Luo Qingchuan arrived breathless to this scene.

He, too, froze—the girl’s flowing hair, her figure cold as ice.

Chen Yanyu seemed not to hear.

Regret flooded Luo Qingchuan.

Deep, crushing regret.

He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind—

So hastily his left hand accidentally brushed the soft curve of her chest.

He felt only her chilling cold.

He gripped her slender wrist tightly, leaving faint red marks on her snow-pale skin.

“It’s okay… it’s enough,” Luo Qingchuan murmured, voice gentle yet thick with guilt.

*I shouldn’t have done this… Chen Yanyu—a girl who gets tipsy after two sips of juice, who gets flustered when I pin her to the wall… Why did I…*

*Make her kill?*

This was only her first day in the human world.

“Miss Chen… it’s over. I’m here. Stay calm. He isn’t worth your hands. Let me handle him.”

But Chen Yanyu whispered in a voice brittle as ice, laced with helpless sorrow:

“I have to kill him. Then… then watch a movie with Luo Qingchuan.”

She spoke to herself.

Ah… she always had.

No one had ever spoken to her.

Luo Qingchuan’s eyes reddened. Jaw clenched, he shouted:

“Chen Yanyu! *Chen Yanyu!* I’m here! I’ll watch the movie with you! Stop!”

His voice rang out like a piano chord struck with desperate force.

Chen Yanyu jolted. She turned, disbelief in her eyes, her wrist going limp.

“Luo Qingchuan?”

“It’s me,” Luo Qingchuan exhaled, smiling softly. “It’s me.”

“Waaah—!”

She collapsed into his arms, pulling him down. Her face buried in his chest, sobbing until she gasped for air.

“I thought… I thought you were going to die!”

Her clothes soaked in his blood—she didn’t care.

Her damp silver forehead, smeared with sweat and his blood, felt warm.

“How could I?” Luo Qingchuan held her gently. “This isn’t a drama. No screenwriter’s handing me a tragic end. Even if one tried, I’d defy fate itself to hunt them down.”

Chen Yanyu wept harder, her shoulders shaking. After a long while, she hiccuped:

“I wish… you weren’t so kind.”

Luo Qingchuan smiled, patting her back. “Don’t cry. We need to go.”

Police sirens wailed in the distance.

He helped her up and glanced at Peony—half a body, still twitching, flesh crawling to heal.

The man grinned through bloodied teeth, eyes locked on them.

“Boy… boy… boy… I finally see you,” he rasped, venom dripping from his words.

“You cultivate demonic arts but lack ruthlessness. You’ll die ugly.”

Luo Qingchuan paused.

Then, from the shadows beneath his feet, pitch-black calamity flames erupted—consuming Peony in an instant.

In that final breath, Luo Qingchuan murmured, eyes dark as ink:

“Honestly… your death wasn’t handsome either.”