The coin carried a trace of warmth. Held in the hand, it felt light, yet so heavy.
"Doctor Keke." Yu Yisen straightened up, his expression solemn.
"I don’t want to drag you into this. You still have time to back out."
Shen You’an placed the coin back into his palm, smiling faintly. "Mr. Yu, I won’t regret it."
Never.
Outside the house, the cold was bone-chilling.
Inside, it was as warm as spring.
~
Shen You’an put away the needles and tucked the blanket snugly around Yu Yisen. He sat quietly by the bedside for a while.
The pale blue moonlight filtered through the window frame, falling on the floor and casting a desolate glow across the room.
Tonight was the fifteenth; the moon was large and round.
In half a month, it would be the Spring Festival.
Lowering his gaze, Shen You’an sat quietly, watching the moonlight climb onto the toe of his shoe.
"Grandpa, I’m sorry."
~
Shen You’an returned to the storage room. The window frame was gently knocked upon.
Soon, the window opened a crack, and a shadow slipped inside like a gust of wind.
The figure was clad in black, concealed within the darkness, resembling a ghost.
"Boss."
As soon as he spoke, he flashed a mouthful of shining white teeth.
Shen You’an began undressing, and the person immediately hugged himself tightly. "Boss, what are you trying to do?"
Shen You’an shot him a look. "Cut the nonsense. Change clothes."
The baggy gray padded jacket was tossed toward Chong Ming right after.
Chong Ming caught it, noticing that it still carried the warmth and faint scent of the girl. He froze.
His ears instantly turned crimson.
Shen You’an, now down to a black base layer, narrowed his eyes and cast him a glance. "What are you doing?"
Chong Ming snapped back, quickly putting on the jacket.
What great fortune—to one day wear clothes previously worn by the boss himself.
Intoxicated with the idea.
"You know your task, don’t you?"
Chong Ming quickly responded, "Take good care of the two elders, and make sure no one bullies them. Play the role of Zhu Keke perfectly..."
As he spoke, his voice trailed off. "But why, Boss—there are women in the team, so why make me—a grown man—dress as a woman...?"
Chong Ming quickly rationalized to himself, "Because Boss trusts me the most. Don’t worry, Boss, I’ll carry out the mission flawlessly."
Despite his towering stature, Chong Ming had once apprenticed under a master and learned a skill for compressing his physique. With a twist of his neck and limbs, a series of peculiar "crack" sounds emanated from his joints, shrinking him down in an instant.
Once dressed, wig donned, and makeup applied, he bore a decent resemblance to "Zhu Keke."
As for mimicking a voice, for professionals like them, it was a piece of cake.
Shen You’an issued several precautions before flipping out of the window and departing.
She scaled the walls of Silent Garden and didn’t rush down the mountain—instead, she climbed into Four Seasons Manor.
The manor was heavily guarded, equipped with cameras, sentries, and top-grade infrared security systems. Yet Shen You’an, cloaked in black, melded with the night like a specter. She infiltrated Four Seasons Manor as if strolling through an empty domain, effortlessly bypassing the infrared defenses.
Prior to her arrival, she’d already acquired a map of the manor from Black Seven. For the right price, there was nothing you couldn’t buy from Black Seven—like the revelation that the Four Seasons Manor was secretly structured as an Eight Trigrams Array. Old Mrs. Yu resided in the northwestern sector, positioned under Qian in the five elements, associated with metal.
Metal restrains wood. Her son’s name was Yu Yixin; the one he restrained, of course, was Yu Yisen.
Shen You’an’s eyes landed on the brightly lit courtyard in the northwest corner.
Faint voices drifted from the yard.
Her gaze swept over the wall, lined with infrared heat sensors.
The old witch—quite fond of preserving her own life.
The security of this small courtyard exceeded that of the entire manor; forcing entry risked alerting the target.
At that moment, the door opened a crack, and a guard immediately blocked her path.
The woman explained, "The matron can’t sleep. The calming tea prepared by the kitchen lacks one ingredient: dragon bone. I forgot to fetch it while sunning them earlier today. They don’t know where I placed them—only I know. I’ll be back in no time. If it affects the matron’s rest, none of you could shoulder the responsibility."
The guard stepped aside.
The woman hastened away.
Soon, she returned, carrying a bamboo basket and hurriedly crossed the threshold.
No one knew that in the blink of an eye, the person before them had already swapped out her essence.
Voices rose from the kitchen, "Where’s Zhu Qing? Why isn’t she back yet?"
Someone spotted a figure approaching through the night and quickly called out, "She’s here, she’s here."
The person had barely stepped to the kitchen door before the bamboo basket in her hand was snatched away, throwing the kitchen back into frenzy.
Not far off, the sound of shattering porcelain rang from a room, followed by an aged yet forceful voice cursing, "Out—get out, all of you! I’ll crush you all down to hell and bind you there for eternity. You’ll never find peace, across this life and the next!"
The voice carried an unmistakable, seething hatred.
The servants busy in the kitchen hung their heads low, their faces devoid of emotion—it was clear they were long used to the scene.
Shen You’an raised her eyebrows, gazing toward the lit bedroom.
That old witch must be hiding some kind of secret.