Maple Fruit Avenue office building. The sky hung low and dark, night swallowing the warm glow spilling from the windows.

A delicate figure sat alone in a private office, penning documents.

Name: Luo Qingchuan

Gender: Male

Identity: Student

Demonic Cultivator Status: Uncertain

Threat Level:

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Lu Chuning set down her fountain pen and wrote "Low" after "Threat Level."

Knock, knock.

"Come in." Her voice was crisp.

Captain Zhang Cheng of the Evilbane Squad entered with a woman in a tailored business suit.

"Master Lu," Zhang Cheng asked with a wry smile, "any leads from your investigation?"

"A slight one." Lu Chuning set the pen aside and crossed her legs.

"Really that student?"

"I can't confirm yet."

She recalled Truthseer’s assessment. "Keep tracking the demonic cultivator’s trail. Captain Zhang—anything on your end?"

"All cameras along the route were destroyed. Witness interviews yielded nothing. The scene was pure chaos—panicked shouts everywhere. The only solid clue..."

The suited woman glanced at her file. "The one who fought Peony was a shadowy figure wielding a demonic blade."

"A shadow..." Lu Chuning smiled faintly. "This is my report on Luo Qingchuan. Remove him from surveillance. He’s my student now—I’ll oversee him personally."

"Understood. Master Lu should rest early too."

Zhang Cheng took the file and left with his partner.

"Shadow, demonic blade, lightning, dragon clan... a date."

Lu Chuning sighed, lips curving slightly.

"Luo Qingchuan."

Her figure vanished from the office, reappearing at the rooftop’s edge.

City lights glittered below; car beams flowed like schools of fish through luminous streets. Beneath the vast night sky, the breeze tousled her raven hair.

Alone against the darkness, Lu Chuning stretched lazily toward the dazzling skyline, a charming smile gracing her lips—two dimples flickering softly.

"Now I hold two of your secrets, little rascal."

... ... ...

Ding-dong.

The phone chimed.

Luo Qingchuan had just settled Su Yingsnow onto the bed when he glanced at it. Screen faced down.

She lay beneath him, smiling. "Won’t you check?"

"No need."

He gently began parting her slender, curled legs—only for her to catch his wrists.

"Please," she whispered. "At least reply you’re busy. Don’t keep friends waiting. I... truly hate waiting."

"Well..."

As he hesitated, Su Yingsnow sat up, pinned him beneath her with a gentle laugh. "Why don’t I move instead?"

His heart hammered. He gazed up at her—flawless features, hazy eyes, elegance like a noble lady of old. Below her fair neck, bath-flushed skin glowed pink, bare and vulnerable before him.

She shifted her hips with a soft moan, cheeks blooming crimson. Still moving, she plucked the dimmed phone and pressed it into his hand.

What choice did he have?

Holding his breath, Luo Qingchuan unlocked it. New messages lit the screen.

Chen Yanyu: [Photo]

Chen Yanyu: Luo Qingchuan! Had dessert tonight—so pretty I almost couldn’t eat it! But it was too sweet… now it’s all in my tummy, hehe~

Chen Yanyu: [Photo]

Chen Yanyu: Also—look! The city at night, all glowing. Isn’t it gorgeous?

Chen Yanyu: [Photo]

Chen Yanyu: Hehe, tried a mirror selfie too… but I was shy, so sunglasses on!

Chen Yanyu: Luo Qingchuan?

Chen Yanyu: I saw bloggers post like this and chat with fans… Can I try too? Are my photos okay?

Luo Qingchuan paused, typed:

Luo Qingchuan: Very nice. You’ll definitely gain followers.

Suddenly—

Su Yingsnow snatched the phone.

A jolt shot through him. Panic flickered across his face. "W-what’s wrong?"

She ignored the screen, fixing him with a reproachful gaze. Setting the phone aside, she leaned close, breath warm against his ear:

"You were... so focused. Is she important?"

"I just replied normally—"

She smirked. "Liar."

"Eh?"

"You’re even getting soft."

Her lips pressed a warm kiss to his neck.

He pulled her close, body burning.

After leaving a fresh hickey, Su Yingsnow lifted her head, hair loose, breath unsteady. Eyes crinkling softly, she murmured:

"My cat ran away."

"Eh?"

"That day, Mom smashed things. Dad sat silent, fuming. My cat got scared... the door was open. It ran. I hate—*hate*—people who don’t close doors."

Her motions slowed. Voice tender:

"I searched everywhere. Cried alone for hours. Mom said it’d return when hungry. So I slept on the living room sofa, watching the door... afraid I’d miss its meow."

She went limp against him, sliding to his side. "No strength left. Your turn."

Flustered, Luo Qingchuan obeyed.

She cradled his head, a soft moan escaping. "Those days... I was so scared it wouldn’t come back."

Breathing lightly, she continued:

"Ten days passed. I wondered if it died—but refused to believe it. Worried it was hungry... cold... no one to hold it, smooth its fur..."

"By day twenty, I feared it was captured, hurt, sick. Every night, trembling. Parents called me crazy—'It’s just a cat!'"

He moved quietly, offering gentle comfort.

"Thirty days. A full month. I knew... it wouldn’t return."

Her voice drifted like wind, barely there:

"I waited too long. That night, I thought—if my poor cat *did* come back, cold and starving, like a dream... I’d stroke its neck, give a warm bath, prepare food and water..."

Her whisper curled softly in the dark:

"...and then strangle it."