Pretend to be crazy

Click.

The sound of a gun’s safety being released.

The person behind him wasn’t comforted by his words at all.

A maniac.

The Lotus Boss had seen it all before and simply chuckled, unbothered. “Still don’t believe me? I’ve got the clone usage records and surveillance footage from that day. If that’s not enough, I can ask my buddies at the police station to bring you Shen Yan’s corpse.”

“Of course, the latter will take a bit of time. As you know, he’s been hacked to pieces. To stitch him back into something remotely presentable, it’ll take at least a full day.”

“Relax, brother. I know you mean no harm.”

He was sincere. Hearing no movement from behind, he cautiously shifted and slowly turned around.

“How about we be friends? Anyone who can bypass the tight security at my place and get me out isn’t ordinary. Just so happens, I’m short a—”

The Lotus Boss froze.

There was nothing behind him. The one who had held a gun to his back seemed to have never existed at all.

Cold sweat broke out belatedly, soaking through his shirt.

Chilled to the bone, He let out a long breath.

Shit. That was eerie.

Did he actually encounter a ghost?

Shen Yan wasn’t dead.

Even with every clue pointing to his death, Ruan Zhixian didn’t believe it.

After leaving the cloning facility, he went to find Fang Luo and Li Wento.

The former was tight-lipped, and Ruan Zhixian had thought he’d have to work hard to get him to speak. But unexpectedly, Fang Luo was rather excited upon seeing him.

“Shen Yan said this church only had two people he trusted—me and you. He’s not dead, right? He left with you, didn’t he?”

“Looks like he still doesn’t trust me completely… That last step wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Can I see him?”

“No? …Alright. Then, please pass on a message for me. Wish him peace on his journey. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

—Fang Luo ruled out.

Ruan Zhixian visited Li Wento in the middle of the night.

He had moved from an ordinary residential area to a villa district.

Ruan Zhixian knew Li Wento’s background inside and out.

A university lecturer with lofty ambitions, duped into gambling and racking up tens of millions in debt. Unable to repay, he used his eloquence to convince his creditors he could pay it off in a year—just barely keeping his limbs and organs intact.

Now, not only had he cleared his debts, but thanks to the live broadcast of him executing Shen Yan, his status had leapt from “Shen Yan’s flattering lackey” to “hero who endured humiliation and took revenge.”

Capitalizing on this wave of public praise, he had even received invitations from several directors.

Cult, villainy, suffering innocent civilians, and a hero rising in defiance to save the world—with the help of the masses.

All the right elements.

The entire cult incident was basically a textbook hero’s journey. While the public was still swept up in it, many wanted to cash in.

Adlai, now the District Governor, wasn’t suitable for entertainment gigs anymore. So Li Wento, a secondary figure, became the perfect pick for the spotlight.

He had hired five well-trained bodyguards and upgraded his villa’s security to the best available for someone of his status.

But to the intruder, all of this was meaningless. The guards were silently knocked out moments after contact.

Li Wento was bound hand and foot, face pressed to the cold floor. The intruder had sprayed something in his eyes—stinging and blinding him completely.

Two stab wounds in his leg had left him nearly numb with pain from the blood loss, but he didn’t dare make a sound, afraid of angering the invader.

He forced a twisted smile and was just about to say something when the blade pressed down on his injured leg again.

Li Wento grunted in pain.

The assailant’s voice, distorted by a voice changer, was neither male nor female: “No talking. Nod or shake your head.”

Li Wento: “Shi—”

Another shallow cut was drawn across the muscle-heavy part of his leg—not fatal, but excruciating.

Li Wento groaned and nodded.

“Did you kill Shen Yan yourself?”

Li Wento nodded.

Schlck.

The blade slowly sank into his flesh and was just as slowly pulled out. The delayed pain made him scream, only to immediately bite it back after the intruder clicked their tongue impatiently.

“You, personally, killed Shen Yan?”

Li Wento nodded again, face contorted with pain and sweat dripping off his chin.

Another stab.

This time the blade wasn’t pulled out immediately. The attacker twisted it in place.

“AAAAHHHHHH—”

Li Wento screamed like a fish yanked from water, flailing uncontrollably.

But the boot on his back held him down like a nail—he couldn’t even curl up.

Sweating and on the verge of collapse, he shouted, “Shen Yan is dead, dead is dead! The official announcement said his body was cremated! The whole thing was live-streamed! So what if I didn’t kill him—he’s already dead!!!”

The assailant laughed—creepy and garbled through the voice changer.

“Last time I’ll ask. Did you kill Shen Yan with your own hands?”

The words with your own hands were enunciated clearly and forcefully.

Only then did Li Wento realize—this person wasn’t here to interrogate him, wasn’t here to expose a fake identity or anything like that. They just wanted to know who had actually killed Shen Yan.

Through clenched teeth, he shook his head.

“You went into the cathedral on your own?”

Shake.

“When you got in, Shen Yan’s body was already there?”

Nod.

“The axe was yours?”

Shake.

The intruder chuckled again and finally removed the foot from his back, departing.

In the final moment before passing out from blood loss, Li Wento vaguely heard the sound of an ambulance siren downstairs.

Shen Yan didn’t die. He ran.

A very unwise choice.

Sitting in the airport lounge, Ruan Zhixian multitasked. On one hand, he messaged Blaze and the others, reporting Shen Yan’s disappearance and packaging all of Shen Yan’s activities in District 13 to send to them.

On the other hand, he was brainstorming where Shen Yan might flee to.

Finding him wouldn’t be hard. As long as he was still alive in this world, he’d find him.

Quickly, too—within a week, ideally.

Shen Yan had always shown interest in cybernetic modifications, but Ruan Zhixian didn’t want him turned into some twisted mutant by substandard augmentations.

Ruan Zhixian put away his device, ignored the barrage of angry messages from Falson—demanding to know where he had hidden his mother—and for once, let himself space out, gazing at the clear sky beyond the airport’s glass wall.

Shen Yan’s visit to the church gave everyone around him what they wanted.

The few Holy Sons who entered with him were needless to mention. Not only did they escape the fate of death, but Shen Yan also helped them achieve their desires.

Adlai, the righteous and kind-hearted man, became the district governor. Though he couldn’t escape the struggles with capital control, he was still better than the previous governor, who was obsessed with greed and wealth accumulation.

Following Adlai as a bodyguard, gluttony lived in comfort without worrying about food and clothing. Li Wento appeared on the big screen, receiving widespread praise. The misunderstandings between Chen Yumu and her sisters were cleared up, and they reconciled.

After this incident, anyone trying to start a cult from District 13 would definitely face resistance from the traumatized public, especially those affected by Shen Yan’s PTSD.

During Shen Yan’s time as a Holy Son, he used his arrogance to eliminate many criminal groups and organizations, some of which involved powerful upper-tier capital. These organizations were temporarily restrained from causing chaos.

Ruan Zhixian lowered his gaze, staring at the knuckles of his right hand.

Only he had gained nothing.

As this thought crossed his mind, he quickly negated it in his heart.

No, Shen Yan did give him something.

Disappointment.

He didn’t like fools, nor did he like being treated as one. Even more, he hated it when people ignored his clear warnings and went their own way.

After all that, was it just to run away?

Why run? Was he afraid of him?

Why am I afraid of him?

There were so many reasons.

In the end, he realized that Shen Yan, whom he had thought was remarkably similar to him in some aspects, even akin to a kindred spirit, wasn’t as great as he had imagined.

He didn’t like his actions, had no interest in him as a person, let alone understanding him deeply.

It was all a façade, fake.

Sent by District One? To interfere with his actions? To watch him fail?

Annoying.

How could there be more people who couldn’t stay quiet?

He ran his fingers over the spot where Shen Yan had bitten him, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

Before he found someone more suitable, someone who matched his perfect family vision, Shen Yan would have to stay by his side a little longer.

At least his disguise was convincing enough. And Falson and the others hadn’t yet seen through the layers of his facade—they were still captivated by him.

The crowds in the airport moved to and fro, the cold of the northern District 13 chilling enough to freeze ears. Thick long winter coats had become the weapon of choice for most people, with faces tucked into high-necked jackets, saving the cost of scarves.

A tall young man in a black windbreaker, wearing a mask and black sunglasses, sat next to Ruan Zhixian.

Ruan Zhixian had already set his terminal to silent and vibration-free mode for Falson and the others when his pocket vibrated.

His face was emotionless as he took out the terminal.

An unlisted number flashed on the screen with a message.

【What’s with that expression?】

his heart skipped a beat.

【Did you think I ran away? Not happy?】

Ruan Zhixian tightened his grip on the terminal, just about to type when another message popped up.

【Turn around.】

he instantly felt a flash of intuition and quickly looked toward the young man who had just entered the airport, exuding a chill.

In that split second, Shen Yan had his terminal camera pointed directly at him, snapping several photos to capture the subtle and complicated emotions on his face.

Then he pushed his sunglasses up to his head and pulled down his mask with his fingers, revealing a face flushed from the cold.

With a mischievous smile, he winked at Ruan Zhixian.

“Surprised?”

Ruan Zhixian stared at him, and when Shen Yan felt a little awkward under the intense gaze, Ruan Zhixian suddenly reached out, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him fiercely.

A quick kiss. Shen Yan didn’t even have time to react before Ruan Zhixian had pulled away.

“Brother.”

Ruan Zhixian grasped the strands of Shen Yan’s hair at the back of his neck, gripping tightly, his knuckles bent, his body fighting to control his strength. The veins on the back of his hand stood out, his pupils trembling slightly from extreme excitement, his voice low and hoarse but every word crystal clear.

“Let’s get a room.”

“I want to fuck you.”