Su Yue lifted her head from Chen Yan’s embrace, casting him a plaintive glance—as if to say, *I might not leave today… Please be kind to my family after you go…* Wait. She didn’t even have a family.
Chen Yan watched her dramatic “last wishes” act with a gentle smile. He ruffled her hair with one hand while pulling several document sheets from his briefcase with the other.
“Actually, I brought the purchase agreement.”
The police captain shot Chen Yan a surprised look, reached out with mild skepticism, and gestured for the papers.
Just as Chen Yan was about to hand them over, Su Yue shoved his chest and leaped out of his arms.
“What?!” Her face froze in shock. “The agreement?! Since when?! Ugh—so all that humiliation was for nothing?! You did this on purpose?!”
“How could I?” Chen Yan protested, genuinely innocent. “The second I went to pull it out, you latched onto me! No time to explain.” He never imagined someone like Su Yue would drink blood publicly to prove herself.
“Ugh… *sniff*…”
“Enough, both of you,” the captain cut in, waving a hand. “Hand it over.” He took the papers, flipped them open, and scanned the anti-counterfeit marks with practiced ease.
“Hmm. Hunter Guild seal. Fresh purchase. Wow—60 million? Fancy spender.” He smirked.
Chen Yan offered a polite smile.
“Sixty million? *Me*?” Su Yue stood stunned.
“Let me see!” She waved between them.
The captain passed it over. “Huh. Didn’t expect someone so airheaded to be worth this much. Guess all your IQ went into your looks.”
Su Yue took the paper, eyes locked on the number: 60,000,000.
“I’m… actually worth this much?” She tilted her head up, dazed, staring at Chen Yan.
Chen Yan ignored her gaze. “In that case, we’ll—”
“In that case,” the captain interrupted sternly, “go register at the Paranormal Bureau *now*. Then return this afternoon for household registration. You bought her days ago, left her undocumented, wandering streets alone? Lucky it was us. The Bureau’s team would’ve shot her on sight.”
Chen Yan hesitated, glancing at Su Yue—she’d always resisted calling him “master.” Was this too much?
Sensing his worry, Su Yue gave a hesitant nod.
Chen Yan blinked in surprise. She nodded again, firm.
“Alright,” he told the captain. “We’ll go register now and return by afternoon.”
“The Household Registration Section opens at 2 PM,” the captain added with a wave, used to silent couple dramas.
Amid amused onlookers and knowing smiles, Su Yue grabbed Chen Yan’s hand and fled the Enforcement Squad hall.
“Get in,” Chen Yan said, opening the door of a black sedan parked roadside.
Still flustered, Su Yue obeyed. He closed her door and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Thank you,” the Little Vampire murmured shyly, hands folded neatly on her knees in the back.
“It’s a master’s duty,” Chen Yan smiled over his shoulder. “I just didn’t expect you’d agree.”
“I’m not *that* unreasonable!” Su Yue huffed. “Refusing the officer meant we couldn’t leave. And without registration? Too easy to get caught again.” Today, she finally grasped this world’s cruelty—she’d stayed within one plaza, yet still got nabbed.
“Besides… that ‘forged’ agreement took effort. Wasting it’d be a shame.”
“Yeah. Cost 60 million,” Chen Yan said lightly, starting the car like it was pocket change.
“*Sixty million?!*” Su Yue’s mouth dropped wide enough for a triple-decker burger. “Where’d you get that money?!”
“Didn’t you call me a rich second-gen? Maybe I am.” He shrugged.
“Rich brat…”
…
Outside the Non-Human Management Building of the Paranormal Bureau, the black sedan circled the decorative fountain for the twentieth time. The receptionist’s forehead practically steamed.
“Twenty laps already. Ready yet?” Chen Yan checked the rearview. Su Yue clenched tiny fists, whispering, “Almost… Su Yue, you’ve got this!”
“You said that three minutes ago. I’m driving in.” Noon closing loomed.
“Wait—*wait!*” Su Yue panicked, gripping the seatback.
The car rolled in. The receptionist waved a red sign: “Park here.”
Chen Yan parked near the hall, opened the back door, and sighed at the curled-up Little Vampire. “Come on. Forty minutes till closing.”
“If I step out… they won’t jump me, right?” Her voice trembled.
“This *is* where undocumented non-humans get legal status. What’s there to fear?” Chen Yan pinched his brow.
“But… but…”
*(She’d been beaten by Bureau agents on her very first day.)*
“It’s okay. I’m here.” He crouched, gently stroking her head.
Freshly fed—and under the “Affection Buff toward Chen Yan”—Su Yue stilled. She met his eyes with a watery glance, then nodded. With his support, she stepped out.
“Sir, here to register this Vampire Princess?” The receptionist, unfazed by shy non-humans or hostile ones, gestured calmly.
Chen Yan nodded.
“This way.”
Chen Yan took Su Yue’s hand. Feeling no resistance, he led her inside.
The hall was quiet—few households could afford non-humans.
“Window 6. No queue. Good luck,” the receptionist said routinely.
Chen Yan nodded politely and guided Su Yue to the counter. Only one seat. He sat, then lifted her by the waist.
“Eep!”
He settled her on his lap.
“Don’t squirm,” he whispered near her ear. “You don’t want them noticing anything off. Play the devoted master and his pet.”
Su Yue froze mid-struggle, imagined the consequences… and went still. Obedient. Nestled quietly in his arms.
