Chapter Twenty-Seven: Lingering Flaws

Over a week later, Xia Yan was summoned to Gong Kui’s office. This time, it was Nangong Yong who wished to apologize to him. During their previous communication, Xia Yan had expressed a hope that Nangong Yong would leave the team, but upon learning that Captain Feng Qiang had resigned of his own accord, he changed his stance. He said that since the team was already fractured beyond repair, it would be best to dissolve it entirely.

Gong Kui did not respond to him directly; she was still deliberating on the matter. She intended to discuss the team’s dissolution with Xia Yan—whether he should join another team, or simply stay at home to train in solitude, especially since in just over two months, he would be heading to the Demon Clan.

“Xia Yan.” Gong Kui opened the door herself, greeting him with a smile.

But as she looked into his eyes, her expression shifted. She saw something incomprehensible: fear in Xia Yan’s gaze—no, not just fear, but despair.

“Xia Yan, what’s wrong?” Gong Kui steadied him, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Xia Yan replied, shaking his head. His eyes soon returned to their usual calm.

Nangong Yong, who had been waiting nearby, walked over. She wore a red and black dress, and, more noticeably, had changed her hairstyle. Her natural beauty made even this unusual combination seem stunning, impossible to ignore.

“Xia Yan, I’m sorry.” Nangong Yong bowed to him. “The last incident was my fault. I apologize to you here and now.”

She then raised her head and looked at Xia Yan. He found himself unable to meet her gaze, his eyes darting away.

Step by step, Nangong Yong moved closer to him. Xia Yan retreated, unable to look her in the eye. It was as if he were reliving his encounter with the pure-blooded Emilia; once again, he was cornered. But at least with Emilia, he could still meet her gaze, despite her terrifying presence. This time, he couldn’t even manage that.

The distance between them shrank until he could feel her breath, and the subtle scent unique to women teased his senses, a potent stimulant.

Where he had managed to stop with Emilia, Nangong Yong did not pause. She pressed even closer, their bodies touching. Her breath, like a serpent, slipped into his ear, her tongue tracing his earlobe.

“Xia Yan, as long as you’re willing, I’ll be your woman. I’m not like her—I will never betray you.”

That “her” struck Xia Yan’s soul like a heavy hammer. His pupils contracted to the extreme; terror flooded his mind and heart, a madness he could barely contain.

With all his strength, he shoved Nangong Yong away and hurried out of the room, his pace quickening until he reached a deserted corner.

He crouched down, gasping desperately for air, clutching his chest as if his heart would burst free. He had once believed that nothing could frighten him anymore, that he was past fear. But that conviction was shattered—completely, irreparably shattered.

Even Emilia hadn’t broken him, yet now, so easily, he was undone. He saw, in Nangong Yong, a second Su Zhu; even her demeanor was identical. If he lost himself, he would surely die.

This time, he could not find any hope to keep living. He would die, without question. If he lost himself, that would be the end.

“Why? Why has it come to this?” Xia Yan’s eyes shifted wildly; the suffocating pressure in his chest nearly tore his heart apart. He was powerless to resist this woman—it was just like Su Zhu.

Just as Su Zhu had pushed him to the ground during the Sinmian Tournament, his resistance crumbled, and he submitted to his own desires.

How could things turn out so disastrously?

Inside Gong Kui’s office, she stood blushing for a long moment before her anger flared at Nangong Yong. “What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?”

Gong Kui didn’t fully understand Xia Yan’s violent reaction, but based on what she knew of him—so calm and collected—there must be something deeper at play.

“Gong Kui, I’m perfectly sane,” Nangong Yong replied, unfazed. “You know why I left my family to come here. I came for Xia Yan.”

“You are not sane,” Gong Kui retorted furiously.

“When I saw Xia Yan at the Tribunal, I thought he would stand with me forever, never betraying me,” Nangong Yong said through clenched teeth. “I even thought I’d fallen in love with him.”

“But he betrayed me without a second thought. For a foreigner, no less! He didn’t even want me in his team,” she seethed. “He’s been deceived, but I’ll bring him back—the Xia Yan who presided over the Tribunal.”

“He will return to me. I’ll be his woman, the one who never betrays him,” she vowed. “As long as he listens to me, no more shielding foreigners or trash.”

Gong Kui looked at her in horror; she could not believe that the heiress of the Nangong family could be so blindly obsessed, so utterly mad.

“Gong Kui, don’t you see? Xia Yan can’t resist me. That’s his only weakness,” Nangong Yong smiled. “He’ll submit and kneel at my feet. But I am merciful; I’ll give my all, love him as a woman should.”

“We’ll always stand on the same side, never betraying each other. Our enemies will always be those foreigners.”

“Nangong Yong, you are insane!” Gong Kui’s face was ashen.

“I’m not insane, I’m perfectly normal,” Nangong Yong laughed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand, you naive little princess—you don’t know what love is.”

Gong Kui clenched her fists, but she could not refute that point.

“Xia Yan has only two months before he goes to the Demon Clan. He’s likely to…” Gong Kui’s voice faltered, pain in her eyes.

Just two months left—how could you be so cruel to him?

He’s going to die soon!

Gong Kui longed to speak these words, but couldn’t bring herself to say them. To do so would be to announce Xia Yan’s death sentence.

“I understand perfectly,” Nangong Yong sneered. “Which is why I say you’re the one who doesn’t get it. If he chooses me, if he dies, I’ll die with him.”

“You lunatic—you’re completely mad!” Gong Kui’s eyes filled with fear.

She realized that the root of all of this must lie in Xia Yan’s unknown past—perhaps during his time as a sinner.

She had never seen such fear in his eyes before; he was never afraid of the future, yet now, for the first time, she saw pain and despair.

In a world of silence, Xia Yan could see nothing. He remembered hiding out of fear, his head throbbing until he finally lost consciousness.

It had been a long time since he’d fainted. Now, he found himself lying on a soft bed, unable to judge how much of his brain’s potential he had unlocked, because all he could see was that woman—the one who looked exactly like Su Zhu: Nangong Yong.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead; his hands clutched the sheets so tightly they were soaked through.

In his mind, the images of Su Zhu and Nangong Yong overlapped—outfits, hairstyles, figures, even those beguiling eyes, all identical.

Nangong Yong drew closer, her dress half-fallen.

“Xia Yan, I’m not like that other woman. I will never betray you,” she whispered. “There’s no need to be afraid—I truly love you. As long as you don’t betray me, as long as you accept my ideals, that’s enough.”

She took hold of Xia Yan’s trembling hands, her body pressing closer. Her nimble tongue brushed his lips.

Xia Yan felt his mind slipping into a haze, reason drowned by instinct, unable to think at all.

This woman was Su Zhu! She looked exactly like her.

He fought desperately against his body’s urges, but his resistance didn’t last even three seconds—he couldn’t hold out.

His last shred of rationality was spent, and his final thought was that he was utterly finished.

From now on, he would be nothing but a puppet to his own desires.

Was such an existence even himself anymore?

At that moment, the door burst open.

Nangong Yong let out a startled cry, but upon seeing who entered, she relaxed, hurriedly straightened her clothes, and glared at the woman in the doorway.

“Gong Kui, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nangong Yong, you shameless woman,” Gong Kui spat in fury. “What are you doing to Xia Yan?”

“Didn’t you see that look in his eyes? He wanted me—you couldn’t tell?” Nangong Yong sneered. “You have no idea, Gong Kui. Xia Yan cannot escape the palm of my hand.”

With a cold laugh, she composed herself and strode out of the suite.

Gong Kui fell silent, her angry gaze softening into pity.

Xia Yan lay on the bed, gasping for breath, clutching his chest as if to draw in more air, his face on the verge of madness. He was so afraid and lost he couldn’t even look at Gong Kui.

“How did it come to this…” Gong Kui sighed. “Xia Yan, I never realized you had such a weakness. I’ve been too careless.”

She hurried to his side, looking into his eyes. “Xia Yan, look at me, snap out of it!”

After a while, Xia Yan finally emerged from his daze, his face slick with cold sweat. “It’s you, Miss Gong Kui.”

“What’s wrong with you? Are you still trapped by the shadow of your past?” Gong Kui asked, worried. “I’m afraid if you fall into Nangong Yong’s trap, the consequences could be dire!”

“I can’t get out,” Xia Yan whispered, shaking his head. “I can’t forget Su Zhu’s figure.”

“Xia Yan, you have to move on, or your end will be terrible,” Gong Kui said firmly. “You must overcome this.”

“No…” Xia Yan’s eyes avoided hers.

Some things cannot change with a single sentence.

“She’s not that woman—she’s not Su Zhu,” Gong Kui gripped his shoulders. “She’s different, do you understand?”

“They’re too alike, there’s not a single difference,” Xia Yan replied, shaking his head. “I can’t resist that gaze, not at all.”

He was certain that if there were a next time, he would still be captured. If anything happened with this woman, he would be utterly destroyed.

At that moment, Gong Kui received an urgent message. After only three sentences, her expression changed dramatically.

The Shadow Panther’s plan had finally begun.

“Damn it, how could this happen…” Gong Kui muttered anxiously. “Xia Yan, we’re in big trouble. Swarms of mutants have appeared in the wilds of our district. The order is for every operative, administrator, instructor, director, and guardian to mobilize—everyone.”

“What?” Xia Yan’s eyes were still lost.

“There’s no time for confusion, Xia Yan. Come with me,” Gong Kui said, gritting her teeth as she pulled him along.

But even as she dragged him, Xia Yan was limp as mud.

Could he really fight mutants like this?

Or would he be torn to shreds the moment he set foot on the battlefield?

Was that youth, stronger than even a veteran guardian, truly still alive?

He was dead—dead at Nangong Yong’s hands.

“Xia Yan, you have to pull yourself together, you must,” Gong Kui said, biting back despair. “If you want to survive two months from now, there’s still one more condition you must fulfill.”

“The last one: unlock your second ability,” she said coldly. “And it must be your strongest power, not just some support skill.”

“You need the strength to crush Ai You, the former director—not just perish with her.”

Unlocking the second ability required the brain’s potential to surpass thirty percent—normally, it was around thirty-five percent. For Xia Yan, this was a harsh demand.

Reaching thirty percent didn’t guarantee a second ability, and no one could predict its strength before it appeared.

Xia Yan did not answer.

“Xia Yan…” There was regret in Gong Kui’s eyes.

So this is as far as you can go, she thought. She had hoped to see him fight Ai You after two months, to return victorious.

Was this really all you were capable of, Xia Yan?