Chapter 284 - 9.30
"Who did this? Who on earth did this!?"
Fang Jing’s roar echoed through the narrow corridor. The moment he heard the report, he rushed straight to Fang Geng’s residence, heart pounding with dread. His nephew lived only a few blocks away, close enough that Fang Jing could always keep an eye on him.
After the apocalypse, this boy was his only remaining family. He had no son. Before everything collapsed, he had treated Fang Geng almost as one, indulging him, guiding him, shielding him. He had never imagined that the brat who survived the slaughter of billions would fall prey not to zombies, but to a hidden hand among the living.
The sight that greeted him nearly made his blood run cold.
Fang Geng’s forehead was a mangled mess of blood and torn flesh, smeared with dirt from the floor. He knelt in a pathetic heap, slamming his head forward in endless repetition.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Each collision made the wooden floor groan. Even in this state, he seemed oblivious to the pain. His lips kept moving, mumbling the same words again and again like a broken puppet.
"I was wrong... I was wrong... I was wrong..."
Two men from his squad struggled to hold him down on the sofa, but his body fought to lurch forward, legs trembling as if to kneel once more.
Chen Ping, captain of the Sky team, stepped forward cautiously. His face was pale, his voice trembling. "We... we’re not sure either. Young Master Fang saw the members of the Gale Squad. Because of past grudges, he grew uneasy, so he stepped forward to exchange a few words. But after they passed by, he suddenly became like this."
Chen Ping’s heart pounded as he spoke. In truth, the Sky team had half-encouraged Fang Geng to provoke the Gale Squad. He dared not admit it now. If Fang Jing traced the blame back to them, their lives would be forfeit. So he trimmed the truth, leaving only the pieces that deflected suspicion.
IFang Jing’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "The Gale Squad? Xiao Jinfeng?" His voice was cold as steel. "And what do you mean you are not sure? Were you not with him? He became like this, and you tell me you don’t know who touched him?"
Chen Ping’s mouth opened and closed. His palms sweated. "I... I didn’t see clearly."
The truth was bitter. He had watched the entire time, and yet Fang Geng hadn’t even laid a finger on them. Only a few angry words were exchanged. But then...
The professor.
That quiet professor who stood beside the Gale Squad, arguing lightly with Fang Geng. It was at that exact moment the young master collapsed into madness.
Chen Ping swallowed. "It... it seemed to be the professor. Xiao Jinfeng was a little further away. But Young Master Fang stopped that professor, and he was the one standing closest. I... I didn’t see how he did it, but after a few words, Young Master Fang suddenly changed."
"Professor?"
Fang Jing’s expression shifted sharply. "Ling Zhuang? Him?"
The polite man with no abilities?
"You know him?" Chen Ping asked cautiously.
Fang Jing sneered. "Know him? More than that." His teeth clenched audibly. "Ling Zhuang! I brought you here with goodwill, intending to use your talents, and you dare, in secret, to strike at my nephew!"
He flung an arm toward Fang Geng with disgust. "Send someone from the infirmary. Give him a sedative! Don’t let him make such a disgraceful scene here!"
Fang Jing glanced at Fang Geng, whose face was still bleeding, and, fuming with anger, waved his hand impatiently, turning and walking away.
Even as he spoke, his face twisted with fury. Not from grief, after all, this was the apocalypse, and family ties were fragile things compared to survival. What mattered was not Fang Geng’s suffering, but the insult.
If word spread that Professor Ling dared act against his family while he, the leader of City A, stayed silent, how could he show his face again?
No. This incident would be the lever he needed. A tool to put Ling Zhuang in his place.
Later, in the quiet of the residential block, Jiang Jiamian’s voice broke the silence.
"What do you think Fang Jing will do?"
Ling Zhuang had been on the verge of sleep. He stirred slowly, removing his glasses and placing them neatly on the bedside table. "A nephew can’t outweigh his own ambitions. But he’ll use this. He’ll remember, and he’ll try to suppress me."
Jiang Jiamian rolled his crimson eyes and stared directly at him.
"What’s wrong?" Ling Zhuang asked, puzzled. "Don’t you believe me? Human nature..."
"Shh."
Jiang Jiamian pressed a finger lightly against Ling Zhuang’s lips, silencing him. For a long moment, he held his gaze. Then, without warning, he rolled forward, pinning Ling Zhuang beneath him with sudden weight.
He said softly, "Your eyes are beautiful."
Ling Zhuang: "..."
Jiang Jiamian tilted his head, grabbed the glasses from the table, and twirled them in his hand. "So? Nearsighted, or reading glasses?"
His tone brimmed with disbelief. How could this pervert show no desire for him? What an insult!
Humph!
If he couldn’t conquer Ling Zhuang today, he’d just grab the next unlucky soul as a stand-in.
Ling Zhuang’s throat bobbed. His voice came hoarse, betraying the strain beneath his composure. "Reading glasses? Do I seem that old?"
Jiang Jiamian raised a brow, inspecting the frames. "Then what are these? They’re not just decorative."
There’s something strange about them.
Ling Zhuang gently retrieved them from his hand. "One-way lenses. My own invention. Through them, I can discern abnormal patterns in living beings, or fluctuations of energy, at a glance."
Jiang Jiamian rested his chin on his palm, musing. "No wonder. You saw through that fish soup instantly, and you knew Jiang Qing had no awakened ability. Tsk. And here I thought they were just for show."
He hadn’t expected them to be these seemingly insignificant glasses, ones he had even assumed were just a decorative cover Ling Zhuang used to hide his emotions.
Ling Zhuang’s voice grew rougher. "That’s not important. What matters is this..." He leaned closer, arms circling tightly, unable to restrain himself. "Perhaps you are not just the perfect piece I admire. Perhaps you mean something more."
So close, how could Jiang Jiamian have missed the signs in Ling Zhuang’s body?
But Jiang Jiamian arched a brow, feigning innocence. "Oh? And what meaning is that?"
Ling Zhuang’s restraint finally cracked. He hugged him fiercely, the words spilling raw, "Don’t play dumb!"
Meanwhile, down the hall, another knock echoed.
"Chen Ran, I need to ask you something." Xiao Jinfeng said, standing at Chen Ran’s door.
Chen Ran opened slowly, looking distracted. "What is it?"
"Jiang Jiamian." Xiao Jinfeng’s eyes were intense. "What do you think of him?"
Chen Ran froze. The bluntness stole his breath. His gaze flickered away. "Why are you asking me that?"
The truth pressed heavy in his chest. He knew Xiao Jinfeng shared something unspoken with him, a fragile thread of affection, never voiced. But it was Jiang Jiamian who shattered his calm.
For the first time, Chen Ran felt what it meant to be truly moved. To desire, to admire.
When Xiao Jinfeng saw him turn away, his heart lurched. His voice grew sharp. "Chen Ran, look at me! Tell me! Please."
Chen Ran’s lips trembled. "Jinfeng... we’re just friends. You have no right to question me."
"But you know..."
"I don’t know, I don’t know!" Chen Ran’s composure snapped. His hands clenched at his sides. "I’m confused too! Can’t you stop asking?"
Did he like Jiang Jiamian?
He didn’t know.
He only knew that Jiang Jiamian burned like light, dazzling, untouchable. Perhaps reborn, as he was. But brighter, stronger. Everything he wanted to be.
Was it love, or worship?
He couldn’t tell.