The café owner had never been a fan of celebrities and couldn’t understand why young girls would get so excited they nearly fainted when seeing their favorite star. But at this moment, she truly felt short of breath, her mind blank, and a vague sensation that she was about to faint.
“……” Chu He looked at her, thinking maybe he hadn’t made himself clear, so he smiled and repeated gently, “Sorry, may I have five minutes of your time?”
—The Phoenix King had completely forgotten that the last time he smiled in front of the lotus throne, he had knocked out eighteen golden-bodied arhats on the spot, and even the Third Generation King had accidentally smashed his own leg with his war spear.
The café owner’s eyes fixed unblinkingly on him, as if wanting to say something but unable to utter a sound. After a while, she swayed a few times and then collapsed to the ground motionless.
Phoenix King: “……”
In this completely frozen scene, Zhou Hui stood up from his seat, walked through the dead-silent café, approached, took Chu He’s hand, and pressed him back into the seat. Then, casually, he borrowed a hat from a young lady at a nearby table and placed it on Chu He’s head.
“You lost,” he smiled.
Chu He didn’t say a word, expressionless, refusing any contact with the outside world.
Zhou Hui understood the wisdom of not pursuing a cornered enemy, so he didn’t pressure him further now. Instead, he smiled and snapped his fingers. With a snap, the entire café seemed to be switched back on—all the people suddenly woke from a daze, blinking and looking around, unsure what had just happened.
Zhou Hui adjusted the brim of Chu He’s hat, then turned and walked toward the bar counter—his gait like a wild leopard roaming the jungle: relaxed, agile, and powerful. Although he drew quite a few glances, it was nothing like the dramatic appearance of the Phoenix King’s divine form descending.
When he reached the bar, the café owner was just getting up from the floor, confused about how she had fallen moments ago.
Zhou Hui reached out to help her up, his smile like the brightest sunshine of summer, his strong masculine aura making people blush and hearts race; even his voice was magnetic as he spoke softly: “Hello—”
The café owner flushed deeply, tidying her hair, and for a moment regained the feeling of her eighteen-year-old youth:
“Hello, how can I help you?”
“Yes, I want to ask you about someone.” Zhou Hui took out a photo and showed it to her politely: “These are two of my friends. Shall we talk in the kitchen in the back?”
As he turned, Zhou Hui made a victory sign behind his back; Chu He looked away, pretending not to see.
·
At the same time, on the top floor of the office building above the café, Liao Liang sat motionless in his luxurious office with floor-to-ceiling windows and a viewing balcony, staring at a photo frame.
The photo was old and worn, torn and creased, showing how carefully it had been torn so as not to damage even a corner of the person’s clothing. He gently touched the cold glass of the frame. The hot tears once shed over this photo had long since dried, but he could still remember that night, when he drove his car to the mountaintop and sat alone all night, the cold wind biting to his bones, the pain and despair overwhelming.
Some pain never fades with time; it stays with you, rooted deep in your soul, growing endlessly as time passes.
“You should go now,” a cold female voice suddenly echoed in the empty office.
Liao Liang looked up blankly. By the desk stood a small mirror, reflecting a woman’s face.
She was very beautiful, with long silver hair, elegant eyebrows and eyes, her aura intoxicating even when her face was icy. But Liao Liang’s gaze was unchanging as he croaked, “Must I go?”
“You’ve gathered too little soul energy these past days. If you delay further, Lu Xiaocheng’s corpse will decay—the mortal world’s corpse preservation still has many limits.”
Liao Liang hesitated slightly: “But I heard Captain Feng Si was once a Heavenly King of the Dao, very powerful…”
“Exactly because of that, his soul energy is just the amount you need.” The woman paused, then changed to a seductive tone: “Don’t worry, not all Heavenly Kings are the same. The Phoenix, though a primeval divine bird, was raised by the Buddha and given the title of Heavenly King. He isn’t as overwhelmingly strong as the five major wrathful kings of Esoteric Buddhism; plus, his divine bird form is destroyed, and now he’s in his weakest period in thousands of years—not as hard to deal with as you think.”
“But if he gets angry—”
“You only need a sliver of his soul from his mortal body, not kill him. What’s difficult about that? Besides, I’ll help you if anything happens. If you hesitate, time will run out.”
Liao Liang’s face twisted in struggle: “But last time, that bar’s MB turned into a hopping corpse and even alarmed that legendary Captain Zhou—”
When Zhou Hui’s name was mentioned, the woman suddenly went silent, her eyes flashing complexity.
After a moment, she coldly said:
“Accidents always happen when drawing souls. I’m helping you out of shared misery, but if you always hesitate, then do nothing at all.”
Liao Liang clenched his teeth, his mind in fierce turmoil. After a long time, his gaze settled on the photo frame; his adam’s apple moved sharply as pain and longing forced him to decide.
“I’ll go.” He stood straight: “It’s started, it can’t end… I’ll go.”
·
In the café’s back kitchen, the owner, radiant, sat opposite Zhou Hui, her voice at least three times softer than usual:
“These two? I remember. You know there’s a Liao Risk Assessment Company in this building, right? The boss is said to have a strong background—a Red Aristocrat or military third generation? Every time he comes to buy coffee, the girls here rush to serve him. One day, the boss came here with these two in the photo, and they actually fought…”
Zhou Hui was surprised: “How did they fight?”
“I don’t know. The three sat in the back discussing something; their faces didn’t look good—seemed like they were about to argue, so we didn’t dare eavesdrop. Then the two young people stood up to leave, but the boss grabbed this one—” the owner pointed to Lu Xiaocheng in the photo, “After grabbing him, the other turned back and punched the boss in the face, then the fight started.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was listening and leaned in gossiping: “From what I saw, these two young people were a couple. They were holding hands when they arrived. The Liao guy seemed to like one of them a lot, but couldn’t pull him away and instead got punched by the other—oh gosh, they overturned tables and chairs that day, the police came…”
“Did the police take them away?” Zhou Hui asked.
“No way, the Liao boss is a Red Aristocrat,” she pointed at Bo Chao in the photo, “They only took the one who started the fight first. The police were very polite to the Liao guy.”
Zhou Hui hummed, pointing at Lu Xiaocheng: “And this guy, did he leave with the Liao guy?”
“No, after the police left, he punched the Liao guy once, then rushed out.”
The owner seemed to really enjoy the gossip about this same-sex love triangle, not minding the broken furniture at all, and kept asking Zhou Hui:
“—Are these really your friends? What happened later? Did the Liao guy break them up?”
Zhou Hui silently looked at the photo. The two young people in it smiled at each other, carefree—they should have had bright futures and happy lives.
“No, they’re both dead.” He sighed softly and murmured, “Some lovers can’t be torn apart.”
He snapped his fingers in front of the café owner. She froze, then her gaze grew vacant, her consciousness dimmed, and she slowly collapsed onto the table, breathing steadily.
Zhou Hui stood and started to walk away, when suddenly his phone rang in his pocket. Seeing the number, he answered, “Hou San?”
“Deputy Yu and the others found the warehouse Feng Si calculated, just as expected, not far from the Liao residence. I was just wandering inside,” Situ Yingzhi clicked his tongue on the other end, saying, “Damn, you really should come take a look—there’s blood all over the floor and walls. How could two people bleed that much?”
“—Two people?”
“Yeah, not only Lu Xiaocheng, who you were investigating, died here, but we also just found Bo Chao’s body inside the concrete wall. It’s nearly decomposed—he’s probably been dead for two months. Really pitiful… I don’t understand this stuff, but the police Deputy Yu called said this warehouse is the primary crime scene where Bo Chao was murdered. As for Lu Xiaocheng, it’s uncertain.”
Zhou Hui frowned. “What do you mean uncertain?”
“No corpse. Only Bo Chao was found inside the concrete wall, not Lu Xiaocheng—really a tragic fate for the doomed couple…”
Zhou Hui pondered. He remembered Bo Chao had been killed two months ago, Lu Xiaocheng died one month ago, but the location of death was the same. It seemed to make some sense now.
“Lu Xiaocheng’s body must have been taken away by that Liao family to do some necromancy.” He paused, then said gravely, “Send two sharp guys from Group One to track Liao Liang’s movements over the past month. I suspect besides that hopping corpse, he’s killed even more people.”
·
In the café’s booth, Chu He lifted his head and squinted slightly: “—Young Master Liao?”
Liao Liang wore a meticulously tailored, sharp suit, looking much more composed than when they last met at the Liao residence, confirming the saying: clothes make the man. But no outfit could hide his haggard complexion—whether from sleepless nights or stress, there were dark shadows under his eyes.
“Captain Feng Si,” he smiled awkwardly, “What a surprise to see you here. My office is just upstairs. I came down for a coffee—what a coincidence.”
Chu He put down his phone, leaned gently against the chair back, and scrutinized the man before him. After a moment, he asked, “How did you recognize me?”
—The Phoenix King’s true appearance was shockingly striking, but with beauty came a cold, oppressive aura.
Liao Liang’s pinky twitched reflexively, then he casually pressed his hand on the table and said with a smile, “A few years ago, before you left the Special Division, we once caught a glimpse of you from afar at the Military Commission. I was fortunate enough to see your true appearance. But back then, I was still a student. You’ve changed a lot since, so it’s normal you don’t remember.”
He grabbed the tea menu clipped to the edge of the table. “What would you like to order? It’s on me.”
“No need,” Chu He replied.
Liao Liang ordered a mocha himself, handed the menu back to the waiter, then continued, “Actually, I’ve always wanted to invite you to dinner to express my thanks. If it weren’t for you that day, I’d have been turned into a hopping corpse… and you got hurt because of it. How’s your hand now?”
“It’s fine.” Chu He answered casually. “You spent two million already, no need to treat me again.”
“No, no, it’s different. You can’t just let yourself get hurt because money was spent…”
Liao Liang suddenly stumbled over his words.
Normally, he wouldn’t use honorifics here. Whether trying to get closer or intentionally flirt, once he said “you” (the polite form), the whole atmosphere would feel awkward.
But Liao Liang was too rich and powerful; with just a finger snap, beautiful men and women flocked to him. So he actually lacked skill in flirting. Moreover, no matter how bad Chu He looked, his imposing aura was still above Liao’s. He couldn’t casually address him on equal terms.
After a slight hesitation, the cold mirror in his pocket moved as if urging him on.
“I… invested in a French restaurant on Wangfujing. Their wine and seafood are pretty good,” Liao Liang steeled himself and forced a smile. “How about this weekend? Are you free?”
Chu He stared at him, adjusted his seat to a more comfortable posture, as if finally finding this somewhat interesting.
“I don’t have time.” He spoke slowly, then cut off Liao before he could reply, “—Young Master Liao, if I may be frank, in your current state…”
He paused, then said with interest, “Are you trying to seduce me?”
The waiter brought the mocha, placing the cup in front of Liao Liang, who was stunned and just stared blankly at Chu He.
Chu He, by all appearances, was not someone sensitive to romance.
Whether as a person or in his true form, his naturally cold expression came straight from his heart. He was probably a very closed-off type, indifferent to the world around him. Even if admirers knelt at his feet worshipping him, he wouldn’t pay them any attention.
“How do you—” Liao Liang stammered awkwardly.
“You probably misunderstand me.” Chu He looked at him with a hint of amusement. “I’ve met plenty like you—most of them more powerful and influential, and you’re at best a clumsy imitator. No need to blush. I’ll forget in a few days, it’s no big deal.”
Liao Liang felt lost, instinctively covering his pocket.
The icy coldness of the mirror gave him a sudden chill, helping him regain some composure. Then he remembered the yellowed old photo upstairs.
—Indeed, he had never been photographed alone with that person. The only group photo was made by cutting out Bo Chao from the middle and piecing the rest together.
This sad fact gave him a sudden desperate courage rising from the abyss.
“…Actually, I want to ask you out alone, and there’s something else…” Liao Liang spoke slowly, swallowing hard.
“A person who helped me wants me to bring you a message.”
He grabbed the mirror from his pocket and handed it to Chu He.
This simple gesture was strangely awkward—his hand trembled slightly and his nails turned white from the grip.
Chu He looked down at the mirror’s surface.
At that moment, Liao Liang was almost ready for the legendary Phoenix King to erupt in anger and, like a martial arts master, crush him with one palm in broad daylight—he knew the mysterious goddess in the mirror was powerful, but whether she could handle the Phoenix King was something even heaven didn’t know.
Liao Liang’s face stiffened, looking very strange. But then Chu He raised his head, expression unchanged:
“—I’ve seen Zhou Hui naked, the female lead is also an acquaintance, but those kinds of bed photos should be used to blackmail Zhou Hui, right?”
He pointed at the entangled couple in the mirror and asked, “Why show me this?”
Liao Liang didn’t fully understand the mirror’s secret and lowered his head in surprise. Suddenly the mirror’s surface changed—it became a beautiful silver-haired goddess.
Her impression was always cold, not like Chu He’s indifferent kind of aloofness, but truly icy and fierce, as if wrapped constantly in snow and wind.
But now, her gaze toward Chu He had something different—strong disgust and hatred seemed to overflow from her coldness, making the light flickering at the corners of her eyes even more chilling:
“This mirror can show a person their deepest, most hidden fears.” She curled a strange smile. “Long time no see, Phoenix King. So what did you just see?”
Chu He met her gaze. For several seconds, neither moved. Then suddenly he struck, stabbing fiercely at the goddess’s throat inside the mirror!
But the Snow Mountain Goddess was faster. The mirror shattered into countless pieces in an instant. Amid the shards, a pale hand flashed like lightning, brushing Chu He’s fingertips.
—It was only a very, very slight touch, almost imperceptible.
But in the next second, a faint red halo, like blood, was drawn from Chu He’s fingertip and vanished into the shattered mirror.
“Shakti—!” Chu He stood up in fury. Everyone in the café turned around in shock; the next second Zhou Hui pressed down on his shoulder from behind, and with one palm, pulverized all the mirror shards suspended in midair!
—Boom!
A roaring gale burst forth, shaking the entire building violently. Everyone shouted and fell; a blizzard swept up, engulfing a stunned Liao Liang, who crashed through a wall just in time and vanished onto the street!
Chu He chased a few steps then stopped at the collapsed wall.
Outside, car alarms blared and passersby stopped in terror. Countless vehicles honked piercingly at once. Everyone inside the café crouched under tables, trembling, too scared to move.
“Liao Liang wanted to resurrect his suicidal lover, so the Snow Mountain Goddess Shakti offered to help him, using him to get close to you and steal a trace of your true fire from your soul.” Zhou Hui came from behind Chu He, brushing off dust, coldly said, “They definitely went to the Liao residence. Damn, that unlucky corpse of first love must be hidden there.”
Chu He panted slightly and asked, “Did you see that mirror?”
“Yes.” Zhou Hui replied calmly. “It wasn’t… what you imagined. How about you?”
Chu He didn’t answer immediately.
After a moment’s silence, he said, “…It wasn’t what I thought.”
