Chapter 13: Where Is My Blade?

Mu Yu opened the car door with an air of nonchalance, feeling as though every pore on his body was radiating handsomeness—no, radiating pure, irresistible charm. Don’t ask why he was so brash, don’t ask why he was so confident; just look at the car he stepped out of—a police car!

Getting escorted home in a police car! Tell me, wouldn’t you swagger down the street if it were you?

Fortunately, Liu Hui knew the area was still under martial law for the next ten kilometers and thoughtfully arranged a police car to bring Mu Yu home. Otherwise, he’d have had to rely on his own two legs to jog all the way back.

Watching Mu Yu grinning foolishly as he stroked the police car one moment, then striking a pose in the window the next, the officer in the driver’s seat was on edge the entire ride.

All the officers involved in this operation had undergone special training and signed a slew of confidentiality agreements. Don’t be fooled by the fact that he was just playing chauffeur—Ni Wenxing was actually a rising star at the local police station.

Ni Wenxing knew that those who faced the incident head-on were under immense mental strain; it wasn’t uncommon for some to buckle and end up in a sanatorium. So whenever he could offer them help, he did so with the utmost respect.

But—wasn’t this gentleman lingering a bit too long?

Ni Wenxing shifted uneasily before finally opening the door, stepping out, snapping off a salute, and asking with his usual composure, “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

Mu Yu was taken aback. It was the first time someone addressed him with such respect, leaving him a bit at a loss. He quickly returned a salute, though it was far from standard.

“No, nothing at all.”

“Then I’ll take my leave now.”

Mu Yu was still berating himself for stumbling over his words, but the officer—who looked every inch the elite—seemed even more eager to escape. With a precise about-face, he slipped back into the driver’s seat and sped off.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. As expected of our people’s police—truly efficient.” Mu Yu clicked his tongue in admiration and walked toward Xincun Residential Complex.

It was an old neighborhood. Mu Yu’s parents had only bought the place to make it easier for him to attend high school. Fortunately, it counted as a school district property, so the price had held steady—not a bad investment. The security gate, though, was little more than a formality.

Old Chen poked his head out of the security booth, curiosity all over his face, and gestured at Mu Yu with his lips. “Hey kid, you been locked up? Why’d the police bring you back?”

Mu Yu’s air of aloof importance vanished in an instant. He waved his hands frantically. “Come on, sir, you can’t just say things like that. I only got a ride in a police car; doesn’t mean I was locked up. Want to guess again?”

“Hmm... got caught at a little motel, did you? Detained for ‘tea-tasting’? You rascal, reminds me of myself back in the day.”

Old Chen’s expression turned from shock to slyness as he raised his eyebrows knowingly—men understand these things.

“What? What are you talking about?” Mu Yu was mortified. Not even fighting monsters had rattled him this much. Knowing Old Chen’s love of gossip, if this rumor stuck, half the neighborhood would be whispering about his ‘tea-tasting’ arrest by morning.

“Sir, please don’t spread nonsense. I—I—I was being a good Samaritan!”

Well, saving tens of thousands of people does count, right?

Old Chen leaned back, face full of disbelief. “You? A good Samaritan?”

Mu Yu’s face turned red as he rolled up his sleeves, itching for a showdown with the incorrigible old man.

Seeing Mu Yu’s reaction, Old Chen decided he’d had enough fun. He opened the gate with a kindly smile, looking for all the world like a sweet, gentle elder.

If not for all those afternoons Mu Yu spent joking and chatting with him in the security booth during high school, Old Chen might just have believed his own story.

“Hmph, not going to stoop to your level.” In the end, Mu Yu couldn’t stay angry with the old trickster. Mumbling under his breath, he hurried away under Old Chen’s mocking gaze.

As for what wild tales the neighborhood elders might spin by tomorrow, that was up to fate.

Though it was only seven o’clock—hardly late—the complex was nearly deserted, save for a few weary cicadas chirping half-heartedly from the grass. He wondered why the regular crowd of dancing uncles and aunties had gone to bed so early, but he didn’t slow down. He was eager to get home.

After all, according to Mo Yan, he’d been out all night and through the entire day. Who knew how his cousin Mu Qing was getting on at home?

He sighed. She must be worried sick about her dear cousin, probably unable to eat or sleep for missing him. Well, he did spoil her at home.

Decision made: he would cook a feast for Mu Qing to make up for it!

Mu Yu bounded up the stairs, grinning like an idiot. Thank goodness the stairwell was empty; otherwise, anyone who saw him would have called him a lunatic and dialed the police—giving him another ride in the soft, cushy backseat of a patrol car.

“Huh? Why’s the door open?”

Mu Yu’s heart skipped a beat. He took family safety very seriously, since it was just the two of them, and he had to work while Mu Qing often came and went alone. Even in a law-abiding society with cameras everywhere, you couldn’t be too careful. Mu Qing always followed his lengthy lectures on safety—even if she looked bored to tears.

Something must have happened!

Mu Yu took a deep breath and reminded himself to stay calm—this was not the time to panic.

He ran up two more flights, making his footsteps heavy to sound like a neighbor so as not to alert any intruder. Then, crouching at the fifth-floor landing, he craned his neck and peered down. The sliver of light from the third-floor apartment’s door hadn’t changed.

So far, so good.

He mapped out his plan in his mind, then crept down step by step, making not a sound. The motion-sensitive lights in the stairwell, having received no noise for a while, began to flicker off one by one, plunging the building back into darkness.

Mu Yu didn’t seem to notice. His vision was as sharp as ever, undiminished by the lack of light.

If anyone met his gaze now, they would only shudder and lower their head. His usually gentle black eyes had, in a blink, shifted to a chilling yellow.

Mo Yan’s piercing gaze was legendary in the investigation team; everyone who met his eyes instinctively looked away, as if staring at a blade a few centimeters from their face.

But Mu Yu’s eyes were even sharper now—his vertical, burning yellow pupils radiated such fury that anyone would collapse before them.

This wasn’t fear—it was the oppression of a superior life form.

How could mortals withstand the wrath of a god?

Mu Yu was like a dragon whose reverse scale had been touched, a storm of violence rising within, desperate to tear something apart.

Yet beneath that anger, his mind grew colder still.

His body moved like a reptile, each step falling in a blind spot, so that even an observer at the door wouldn’t see a trace of his clothes.

He was oblivious to the changes in his body, eyes locked on the apartment door, every limb coiled with explosive power.

In that moment, Mu Yu had absolute confidence: if there was an intruder, he could snap their neck the instant he saw them.

He had no right to threaten his family. He deserved to die.

The usual Mu Yu—quick with a joke and never serious—was nowhere to be found, replaced by a killing intent that ran bone-deep.

In the pitch-black corridor, Mu Yu’s shadow seemed to deepen, twisting and writhing with his rising anger.

He was close now.

Pressed against the wall, Mu Yu could hear the blare of the television from inside.

This had to be a cover—the TV was more a decorative prop than anything else; neither he nor Mu Qing ever watched it.

His eyes grew frostier as he pressed his ear to the wall.

A strange sensation.

In that instant, Mu Yu’s mind conjured the entire scene inside: the blaring TV, the messy table, and, in the bedroom, two figures locked in a tangle.

Mu Yu moved so fast he was barely a blur. As the door crashed against the wall with a deafening bang, he was already slamming into the bedroom door.

The solid wood creaked and split under the impact—a massive crack appeared.

But the lock on the threshold gave way first, splinters flying as the entire door toppled to the floor.

Mu Yu hadn’t expected his own strength; he lost his balance and fell, but sprang up like a coil, lunging ferociously at—

A teenage boy and girl?

Mu Yu crashed to the floor, dumbfounded.

Mu Qing, hearing the thud, blinked uncertainly. “Brother?”

Mu Yu clutched his stomach, struggling to his feet, his face twisted with rage. “Who’s this kid? Where’s my knife? How dare you lay a finger on my precious girl—I’ll chop you to pieces!”

Mu Qing, seeing her brother barking like a mad dog, rolled her eyes. She pulled the still-stunned short-haired boy behind her.

“Relax, bro, he’s just here to keep me company. Don’t scare him.”

“You—you—you’re siding with him?” Mu Yu collapsed, devastated, pounding the floor with his fists. “Why? Why?”

The short-haired boy seemed to recover, opening his mouth to speak, but Mu Qing stopped him with a look, so he could only shrink further behind her.

“No way! I don’t approve of this relationship!” Mu Yu, regaining his senses, was relieved things weren’t as he’d imagined—but he still gnashed his teeth in frustration.

His precious, lovely cabbage—how could she fall for someone else’s pig?