Ten minutes passed.

The heat had gone out of both of them.

Lu Yile had spent so long indulging Zhou Heng’s fantasies that his mouth was dry. He glanced at Room 305, where Zhang Xuan had disappeared, and said with a strange look on his face,

“This isn’t right. According to the plan, Zhang Xuan should’ve been out in a minute. It’s been ten minutes already, and there’s still no sign of him.”

Zhou Heng also felt that this was taking far too long. His worry drowned out the excitement from earlier, and he spoke up.

“Did something go wrong? No—something definitely went wrong.”

Lu Yile paced back and forth beside Zhou Heng.

“I doubt it’s an accident. What I’m afraid of is…”

Zhou Heng finished the thought for him.

“You’re afraid Zhang Xuan’s identity was found out?”

Lu Yile quickly shook his head and said, sounding rather envious,

“What I’m afraid of is that the fat pig keeping our top student is the kind who’ll sleep with anyone. One person isn’t enough for him, so now he’s got Zhang Xuan in there for a little action too.”

Zhou Heng froze, then snapped angrily,

“He wouldn’t dare touch Zhang Xuan!”

After yelling that, Zhou Heng suddenly smiled.

“Ah, we shouldn’t assume the worst. Maybe it’s good news.”

Lu Yile couldn’t make heads or tails of it, so he asked,

“You mean Zhang Xuan’s phone broke, and he got kept there again, so he can’t get in touch with us?”

Zhou Heng grinned lewdly.

“No. I mean that fat pig doesn’t care who he sleeps with. He saw how pretty our Zhang Xuan is—hardly any different from an ordinary cute girl—and now he’s having a threesome with our top student.”

Lu Yile burst out laughing. He gave Zhou Heng a thumbs-up and praised him.

“You’ve clearly watched plenty of cross-dressing anime. You know your stuff.”

Another ten minutes passed.

Now Zhou Heng and Lu Yile both looked uneasy. Ten minutes without Zhang Xuan coming out might’ve been one thing, but twenty? There was definitely a serious problem inside.

Zhou Heng couldn’t help pulling out his phone. Lu Yile reached out to stop him from dialing 110. After making up his mind, he said,

“Don’t call yet. I’ll go into 305 and take a look too. If everything’s fine, I’ll text you. If I haven’t texted you in ten minutes, then call the police.”

Zhou Heng put his phone away.

Lu Yile walked up to the door of Room 305, rang the bell, and said politely,

“Hello, I’m here to tell you about some special offers from the hotel…”

Before he could finish, the door to Room 305 opened again.

“Come in.”

Zhou Heng watched Lu Yile enter Room 305 with a frown. The door shut, and not a peep came from inside.

Time crept by.

Zhou Heng suddenly felt afraid. His fantasies about cute girls vanished, replaced by fear of the unknown.

By the time another ten minutes had passed, that fear had easily filled Zhou Heng’s every thought. In his eyes, Room 305 was no longer a golden hideaway for secret lovers. It had become a monster with a gaping maw, swallowing its prey whole without even spitting out the bones.

The young man shakily pulled out his phone, opened his contacts, and tapped 110 under Emergency Calls.

Something cold and sharp suddenly pressed beneath Zhou Heng’s lowered chin.

A moment ago, he’d only feared the unknown. Now he was gripped by bone-deep terror of something with a very real shape.

“Hang up.”

The voice was clear and delicate, beautiful enough to raise goosebumps.

But when the owner of that voice held a dagger to his throat, could anyone—no matter how badly lust had gone to their head—still have any improper thoughts?

Zhou Heng blankly hung up.

“Throw the phone away.”

With a flick of his wrist, Zhou Heng tossed the phone. It landed neatly by the wall.

“I, uh…”

The blade at Zhou Heng’s throat touched his skin lightly, and its edge opened a tiny cut.

The faint sting made Zhou Heng’s scalp prickle.

“I don’t like people who ramble.”

Zhou Heng covered his mouth, breathing hard.

“Hmph. At least you know what’s good for you.”

The sharp blade moved away from his throat.

Footsteps pattered from one side to Zhou Heng’s. He slowly stood, keeping his body between the other person and his clenched fist.

His opponent shouldn’t have moved the weapon away from his neck. That had given Zhou Heng a chance to fight back.

Fighting an armed opponent was a completely different matter from fighting an unarmed one. In a bare-knuckle fight, a Master could take on ten people—or even dozens—and possibly walk away unharmed, or even win. But with a weapon involved, even ten children might injure or kill a Master far stronger than they were.

So when facing an armed enemy, you had to strike fast, strike true, and make the blow absolutely lethal.

Zhou Heng turned with the motion, using his body to hide his fist. By the time he’d turned halfway around, it looked like an ordinary pivot—but he’d already sent the fiery current in his lower abdomen surging into his arm.

His fist shot out, straight for the slender waist at his side.

Zhou Heng had learned this surprise attack through countless fights. It was especially useful when he was being ganged up on. Almost nobody could dodge the punch hidden in what seemed like a calm turn.

In less than a breath, Zhou Heng’s fist struck the other person’s lower back. A hit there wouldn’t be fatal, but it would leave the waist numb and aching, making it hard to turn or draw strength from the lower body for a short time.

In game terms, it was a control skill.

After landing the control skill, Zhou Heng held his breath and swung his other fist toward the chin.

This punch was nothing like the one to the lower back, which had sacrificed some power for speed and accuracy. The force rising from the triangular area below his dantian brought his whole body’s strength together. With plenty of distance to build up speed, the punch unleashed nearly one hundred and twenty percent of Zhou Heng’s strength.

Against someone with more fragile bones, that punch might’ve broken their jaw.

His fist, packed with explosive force, struck where it should have. But the feedback through his knuckles wasn’t solid like the hit to the lower back had been. It felt strangely insubstantial.

Zhou Heng couldn’t help looking up. His furious eyes met a pair of impossibly clear, beautiful eyes. His gaze swept over them, taking in a petite nose, rosy lips, and fair skin—a delicate, lovely face.

Even with that face full of disdain, it was still cute enough to make your heart itch.

And yet, that gorgeous face—the kind that made people turn for a second look—sent a bone-chilling cold through Zhou Heng.

Because that face belonged to Su Mo, the very person whose presence had just let Zhou Heng and Lu Yile indulge their adolescent fantasies without restraint.

The same Su Mo who was supposed to be in Room 305, having sex with some obese rich guy.