Arriving at the doorstep of the humble home—
Hei Long raised a hand and gave the wooden door three gentle knocks.
After a pause, the door creaked open.
An old man, thin and hunched, peeked out.
His eyes were cloudy with age, but sharpness still lingered in them—until recognition struck.
His pupils widened.
"What can I do for you—?"
He didn't get the sentence out.
As the old man began to shut the door in a panic—
Hei Long casually placed his foot between the frame and the door, halting its motion with ease.
His tone remained polite, but the underlying weight in his words pressed down like a hand on the throat:
"Nice to meet you, sir. My name is Hei Long, Young Master of the Hei Family. May I trouble you for a moment of your time?"
The old man swallowed hard.
Beads of sweat had already begun to form on his forehead.
"I'm… guessing you're here for the boy."
Hei Long smiled faintly, tilting his head as he rested a thoughtful finger against his cheek.
"Ah, so we can cut to the chase. That's refreshing. Indeed, I am. Now tell me—will you continue to hide him, or may I have him?"
The old man hesitated, glancing past Hei Long at the woman standing behind him—
Li Mei's expression was unreadable, but her eyes glinted with silent amusement.
Swallowing once more, the old man slowly stepped aside and motioned toward the interior.
"Please come in, Young Master Long. I… I wouldn't dream of getting in your way."
"Smart man," Hei Long said, stepping inside.
The interior was simple.
Old wooden floors. Modest furniture.
Hei Long took it all in with one slow glance as the old man returned to a wooden chair, lowering himself down with a creak of effort.
"…"
Hei Long remained standing.
"Where is he?" he asked, eyes narrowing just slightly.
The old man sighed deeply, resting his elbows on his knees.
He didn't respond with words—just lifted one trembling hand and pointed toward a small food pantry in the corner of the room.
Hei Long's expression didn't change.
"I see…" he muttered.
That spot.
Of course it was.
The same hiding place from the early chapters of the harem novel—where the protagonist hid.
Hei Long walked across the room with quiet steps, stopping in front of the pantry.
For a moment, he stood still, almost solemn.
Then, in one swift motion, he opened it.
Nothing.
Just food.
Cured meats.
Bags of rice.
Dried herbs and stale bread.
No trapdoor, no secret compartment.
No protagonist curled up behind sacks of potatoes.
Hei Long stared at the contents in silence.
Behind him, the old man exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment passing through his shoulders.
"…Interesting," Hei Long murmured.
He knelt down, checked the back wall of the pantry.
Knocked on it.
Solid. Real.
Nothing concealed.
Not even a fresh disturbance in the dust.
Li Mei stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
"What a shame," she said with a sigh, tapping her chin with a finger:
"Seems like your little game just got more interesting."
Hei Long didn't reply immediately.
He stood up, calmly dusting his hands off.
"He was here," he said, not even a question—just fact:
"But he's not now. That's fine."
Hei Long turned and looked at the old man again:
"When did he leave?"
The old man didn't respond.
He looked down, lips tight.
Hei Long's eyes narrowed. "You're quiet again."
Still no answer.
Hei Long smiled, slow and cold:
"You've already earned your life once by stepping aside. Don't press your luck."
Li Mei strolled forward and leaned down beside the old man, tilting her head:
"He left through the back, didn't he? There's a trail leading into the woods behind the house, I assume?"
The old man clenched his fists in his lap.
But finally, he nodded.
"That's all we needed," Hei Long said.
He turned, already heading toward the rear exit:
"Let's go, Mother."
Li Mei began following her son.
Once they were far enough from the small village—
Hei Long came to a stop atop a worn dirt path.
He didn't look back at first.
Then, casually, he turned to his mother.
"Have our men kill them all."
Li Mei blinked. "Huh? Kill who, exactly?"
"The entire village," Hei Long said, his voice calm, but chilling in its certainty:
"Every single one of them. I can't have anyone talking about what they saw. That ugly little moment? That version of me doesn't fit the narrative I'm building. I have a reputation to uphold."
Li Mei's brows arched—but only briefly.
Then she smiled.
"Aha~ I see. Reputation over witnesses. That's my boy."
Li Mei's voice was warm, motherly, as if he'd asked her to pick up groceries, not sentence dozens to death:
"I'll make sure it's done personally."
There was no protest.
No hesitation.
Anything her son ordered was final.
Hei Long turned his gaze back toward the small village.
His Qi swirled faintly around his entire body as he rose gently into the air, floating above the ground, preparing to depart.
'I would say sorry… but I'm not that kind of man,' Hei Long mused, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips:
'Looks like you'll all be paying the price for my little moment of amusement.'
He motioned with a hand. "Let's go, Mother."
Li Mei lifted off beside him, her movement as elegant as silk drifting on the wind.
As they rose higher, she drifted closer and wrapped herself around his arm, pressing it into her abundant chest without a hint of shame.
"Aren't you going to chase after that little rat?" Li Mei asked, stifling a yawn.
Hei Long shook his head. "No need. The Qing clan will deal with that next part," he replied aloud.
However in his mind:
'I know exactly where Lin Fan's going—some elder will find him, feel 'fate' radiating off his body, and invite him into their sect.'
Li Mei giggled, playing with a strand of her hair. "Sounds good to me. All this hunting is getting tedious, anyway."
She leaned in, her voice playful and sultry:
"When we get home, you owe me a good time."
"Yeah, yeah, I got you," Hei Long muttered, not even looking at her.
His mind was already drifting forward.
Lin Fan's life inside the sect.
Training montages.
Unexpected breakthroughs.
More annoying plot armor.
But Hei Long didn't mind.