Chapter Thirty: So Complicated

Li Zirui’s heart ached with regret—what a shame to destroy three such fine sports cars. Their combined market value was at least fifteen million; even if he worked for a lifetime, he could never earn that much. Yet he understood that these things had to be destroyed; otherwise, they would leave clues for others to follow.

He dragged the three cars out to the outskirts and set them ablaze before returning to report to Xiao Cheng at the intersection.

Xiao Cheng simply nodded, neither approving nor disapproving, saying nothing more. Still, he knew that sooner or later, people would suspect him. There was no way only the three of them knew what Tang Qianfan had done. Of course, even if they guessed the truth, there would be no evidence—only speculation.

Watching Xiao Cheng’s thin, desolate figure and the lonely expression on his face, Zhuo Qinglian frowned slightly. She couldn't fathom what he was thinking. In her eyes, he was merely an eighteen-year-old youth; such weariness shouldn’t have belonged to someone his age.

“What’s wrong?” Zhuo Qinglian walked over, slipping her arm through his, her voice laced with concern.

“It’s nothing,” Xiao Cheng shook his head, dispelling the meaningless thoughts in his mind.

“Are you worried about the Tang family?”

Zhuo Qinglian’s analysis was meticulous, reflecting the reality of such powerful families. She assumed Xiao Cheng was preoccupied with troubles surrounding the Tang family. But clearly, that wasn’t the case.

To Xiao Cheng, the Tang family was but a slightly larger shrimp compared to the Qiao family. This wasn’t arrogance, but a matter of perspective—the place he stood now was worlds apart. His gaze had long since transcended the mundane, fixated on the true breadth of the world. The “world” in his eyes was not the narrow one most people recognized, but the entire globe in its truest sense.

This world was not as ordinary as it appeared to most. In truth, it was home to many forces and individuals that exceeded the reach of nation-states: cultivators, those with extraordinary abilities, the Western magical orders, werewolves, vampires, and more.

There were even formidable existences he had yet to learn of; in his previous life, he had only glimpsed a fraction of the whole. Compared to such entities, not to mention the Tang Group—even the Xiao family itself amounted to little.

Xiao Cheng glanced gratefully at Zhuo Qinglian, flashing her a reassuring smile. He knew she was worried for him, but he could not share his true thoughts with her—not out of concealment, but out of mercy.

In the secular world, Zhuo Qinglian might be considered a master, but in the world as he perceived it, she was just an ordinary woman. If he were to tell her the truth now, it would be like telling a little girl she lived among dinosaurs. What could be more cruel than that?

He simply said he had other matters to attend to and took his leave, earning a look of quiet reproach from Zhuo Qinglian.

She watched Xiao Cheng disappear, not turning back until his familiar, deep yellow Lamborghini was swallowed by the night. Recently, they had only spent time together twice, but she could already sense a profound change in him.

Recently, from Old Third she had learned that Xiao Cheng’s strength now rivaled her own. Today, she’d witnessed some of his miraculous Daoist techniques.

Most striking, though, was his transformation in temperament. He had always been mischievous, his face never showing anything but a wicked grin. Yet today, she sensed an inexplicable world-weariness in him. How could an eighteen-year-old know such sorrow?

Zhuo Qinglian laughed nervously at herself. As long as Xiao Cheng remained Xiao Cheng, what had she to fear? Whether he grew stronger or more mature, wasn’t that a good thing? There was no need for worry.

With cash in hand, Xiao Cheng smoothly completed the transaction for the Meteor Patterned Steel. The whole affair was shockingly simple—money exchanged for goods, nothing more. He could hardly believe he’d acquired the steel so easily.

He declined Hong Jiuling’s invitation to stay and drove home.

By the time he returned to Tangchen Villa, it was already midnight. Xiao Cheng opened the door quietly, not wishing to disturb Fang Yujia. Yet, upon entering the living room, he found her asleep on the sofa.

She was reclining at an angle, her face peaceful, long lashes casting shadows on her fair cheeks. Her skin was flawless, delicate as porcelain—a striking beauty, like a living doll.

She still wore her loose, pure white nightgown. The fabric, usually so voluminous, clung to her curves as she lay on her side, accentuating her perfect figure. Her long, shapely legs were draped across the sofa, pressed closely together, a dazzling expanse of white.

It was an unabashed temptation.

Xiao Cheng glanced at her, feeling his mind wander. Though his Daoist discipline was strong, he was still a man, and couldn’t help but respond as one would.

He shook his head, forcibly suppressing his wayward thoughts. Finding a blanket, he intended to cover her up.

After all, it was late autumn. Even though Shanghai lay in the south, the midnight air was chilly.

Holding the blanket, Xiao Cheng moved to drape it over Fang Yujia, but to his surprise, she woke up.

Her beautiful eyes fluttered open, noticing a shadow blocking the chandelier. Looking closely, she saw it was Xiao Cheng.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

She sat up at once, realizing she was only wearing a nightgown. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, especially when she saw Xiao Cheng gazing openly at her.

With a flick of his wrist, Xiao Cheng showed her the blanket, indicating he meant only to cover her.

Would her brother-in-law really be so thoughtful as to cover her with a blanket? Fang Yujia didn’t believe it for a second. After living with Xiao Cheng for over a year, she knew exactly what kind of person he was—a shameless scoundrel. If it weren’t for family rules, who knows what he might have done to her by now...

She stood up, face burning, shooting him a fierce glare. “No matter what, I am your sister-in-law!” she declared angrily.

From her tone, Xiao Cheng knew she had misunderstood him. He didn’t bother to explain. He felt wronged—why had he tried to cover her with a blanket? He should have just woken her. Too soft-hearted, he thought; he’d only wanted to keep her from catching cold, forgetting what kind of person she believed him to be. Still, he didn’t care much about her misunderstanding. Of all people, he knew best what he’d been like in his past life. He couldn’t blame her for thinking ill of him.

Seeing that he showed no hint of embarrassment, Fang Yujia grew even more upset. She stormed off to her room, slamming the door. A moment later, she opened it again.

Standing in the doorway, she said, “Dinner’s in the kitchen. If you’re hungry, heat it up yourself in the microwave.”

With that, she slammed the door a second time.

Xiao Cheng spread his hands helplessly, shaking his head. Women were truly complicated. Still, having been out all night, he was actually rather hungry. Entering the kitchen, he found the food still warm. Who knew how long she’d waited for him, or how many times she’d reheated the meal.

He felt a pang of guilt. In the future, if he expected to be home late, he’d call ahead, so she wouldn’t have to wait up for him.