Chapter 59: Reed Panicle

Li Le’er: “KDL! I’m unilaterally declaring that I’m totally hooked!”

She was the only one speaking in the group chat, spamming excited exclamation points. Seeing everyone else stay silent, she found it odd and scratched her head in confusion.

She poked Zhou Xiaoying—no response. Qiao Qian ignored her too. So weird, where did everyone go?

What Li Le’er didn’t know was that Zhou Xiaoying had already gone to privately message Chu Susu:

“…You’re serious? You want to pursue her? Han Xuan?”

Chu Susu: “Mm.”

Zhou Xiaoying earnestly tried to persuade her: “Did you forget everything I told you last time? I’m not kidding—there are so many normal people out there, so why fixate on her? Her family is seriously creepy!”

She wasn’t exaggerating.

Later, Chu Susu had even specifically asked Fang Chen about it, confirming there were indeed rumors in the industry. They said the head of Fucheng Group was extremely superstitious, always dabbling in shady occult stuff, muttering to himself all day. He even occasionally “flared up” at the company, claiming he’d been “possessed by a ghost” or something like that.

If she’d heard these rumors from the start, Chu Susu might have been a bit scared.

But she’d already witnessed far creepier things on Han Xuan, so she remained completely unfazed, her heart utterly calm.

She explained on Han Xuan’s behalf: “You know she’s an illegitimate daughter who had a tough childhood. No matter what her family turns into, it has nothing to do with her. Besides, tons of people do business with Fucheng, and no one’s come to harm, right?”

Zhou Xiaoying knew she had a point, but still felt inexplicably uneasy: “Even so, she’s still one of their family. Just be careful, okay?”

Though Han Xuan was indeed as pitiful as described, with her tragic background…

Blood is thicker than water.

You can’t marry into a family like that.

Chu Susu: “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

She did know her limits, but she also moved fast.

Once Chu Susu set her mind on something, she never dragged her feet; once she had a goal, she went for it.

That birthday banquet not only cleared up her previous misunderstanding of Han Xuan but also made her realize she genuinely enjoyed spending time with her.

No one had ever given her this serene, peaceful feeling before. Just being together was comforting, even if they did nothing.

Though they’d only known each other for a few short months, their tacit understanding made Chu Susu feel like they’d been close for years.

It had started as pure lust for that face she adored most, but after seeing Han Xuan’s extraordinary side, gratitude bloomed in her heart, along with an even deeper curiosity.

The illegitimate daughter of an Imperial Capital tycoon family—her bizarre background and eerie abilities were shrouded in mystery, tempting her to peel back the layers.

Of course, it wasn’t just that. Her relationship with the Han family, her past… Chu Susu wanted to know it all.

But adults didn’t blurt out prying questions.

She’d uncover it bit by bit, in her own time.

Before the end of the workday, Chu Susu parked her car in the company lot downstairs.

Her little vacation from work hadn’t ended yet. Officially, she was still a bedridden patient recovering, so it was best not to show up in front of colleagues.

Chu Susu sealed the windows tight. The anti-peep film meant no one passing by could see inside, but it didn’t obstruct her view from the driver’s seat.

Soon, she spotted the design team chatting and laughing as they headed this way from the building.

Whether heading to the subway, bus stop, or hailing a cab, the parking lot was on the way, so they’d pass right by.

The team leader glanced over regretfully: “Little Han, I’m treating everyone to BBQ today—you sure you won’t come?”

The person behind smiled warmly and softly said: “Mm.”

The others didn’t seem that close to her either, so seeing this, they didn’t push. They were used to Han Xuan’s lone-wolf style: “Wanna share a cab with us?”

“You guys go ahead.” Han Xuan stood in front of a car, giving an apologetic smile. “I’m waiting for someone.”

This was a first. They exchanged glances, gossiping: “Oho, who’s picking you up?”

“Boyfriend, maybe?”

Han Xuan shook her head awkwardly: “No, it’s not.”

But her cheeks flushing pink gave her away. Seeing how thin-skinned she was, the others didn’t tease further, just said goodbye and left.

The team leader looked back: “That car looks familiar…”

He was about to take a closer look when Han Xuan subtly stepped forward, blocking the license plate, her face anxious: “Team leader, it’s really okay I skipped the team building today, right? The other colleagues… they won’t mind me, will they?”

Hearing this, the team leader quickly reassured her: “Oh, no worries at all. Our team’s super chill—no forced team building here.”

“Good to hear. Thanks, team leader.”

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

The team leader forgot about the familiar car, waved, and hurried to catch up with the group.

Han Xuan waited until they’d vanished from sight, then opened the passenger door and got in.

Beside her sat the leisurely Chu Susu.

“Why the sneaky act like you’re afraid they’ll spot you?” She chuckled, having overheard the whole exchange. “The team leader already knows we’re close.”

Even if others found out, so what? Girl friends hanging out was no big deal.

Han Xuan smiled but didn’t answer, her expression not quite reaching her eyes, lost in some worry.

“What time’s the movie?” she asked softly.

Chu Susu liked to build in buffer time, never cutting it close: “One hour left. No rush.”

Her decision proved wise. As soon as they pulled out, they hit nothing but red lights, the Imperial Capital’s clogged roads jammed solid.

They were chatting idly when suddenly a message popped up from Zhou Xiaoying.

Chu Susu had her phone mounted up front for navigation, so the WeChat notification flashed right in front of them—no time to swipe it away.

Zhou Xiaoying: “Just be careful. The Han family is seriously creepy. I’m not exaggerating…”

The rest didn’t show, but it was enough.

The alert cut their conversation short. In the rearview mirror, Han Xuan’s eyes flicked forward instinctively, catching every word.

Chu Susu froze. She hadn’t expected Zhou Xiaoying to message right then, and she’d forgotten to enable Do Not Disturb—Han Xuan had seen it all.

From this snippet alone, it looked like Chu Susu had invited Han Xuan out while trash-talking her family behind her back—hypocritical.

Chu Susu’s fine brows furrowed as she rushed to explain: “I…”

But after a few words, she stopped. She shouldn’t defend herself. After all, she really had discussed Fucheng and the Hans with Zhou Xiaoying.

She swallowed her excuses and said instead: “Sorry, I shouldn’t have talked about it with my friend.”

Chu Susu figured she’d at least look upset—who wouldn’t?

But Han Xuan didn’t seem to care, even giving a faint smile: “It’s fine. Are you interested in Fucheng? Why not just ask me directly?”

Her tone was casual, as if she truly had no close ties to the Hans, so she didn’t mind what others said.

“Not really curiosity, just heard some things.”

Chu Susu mentioned the Fucheng CEO’s extreme superstition. Han Xuan nodded lightly: “Mm, it’s true.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He constantly invites gods and sends off Buddhas, wears who-knows-how-many jade pendants and peace charms.” A hint of sarcasm tinged Han Xuan’s voice. “Afraid ghosts will knock at midnight.”

Looks like Fucheng’s chairman had plenty of guilty deeds weighing on him.

It was their family business, so Chu Susu didn’t comment. Then something occurred to her, and she asked curiously: “Is your ability hereditary?”

If the chairman had it, he wouldn’t be so paranoid.

“No, only I have it.”

“Oh? Why?”

Han Xuan smiled without answering: “I’ll tell you that later.”

Chu Susu wisely didn’t press: “Mm. I am curious, but whenever you’re ready.”

She knew there were secrets here she wouldn’t reveal easily.

The traffic finally started moving. Chu Susu released the brake and inched forward. They didn’t revisit the topic.

But just before reaching the cinema, Han Xuan suddenly called her name: “Susu.”

Her expression was unusually grave, like she’d sensed something.

Chu Susu followed her gaze out the window—crowds milling about, business as usual, nothing off.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like something’s not right.”

Han Xuan said softly, her eyes full of unease—a baseless agitation.

“But I can’t say exactly what. It’s just a hunch. I know something’s going to happen soon, and it won’t be good.”

Although these words came out of nowhere and made no sense, Chu Susu quickly connected them to how Han Xuan had found her—locked away in an abandoned warehouse—without a single clue back then. That meant she definitely had some kind of “precognitive” ability.

This explanation made perfect sense. That inexplicable “hunch” was probably her sharp intuition for predicting future dangers.

Chu Susu asked, “What’s going on? If you’re worried about something, we don’t have to watch the movie. We can go somewhere else, or head home.”

“No, we’ll watch the movie as planned.”

Han Xuan shook her head, her face devoid of expression. Her eyes, concealed by black beauty contact lenses, were slightly unfocused, as if she were puzzling over something in confusion. “But I need your help.”

“Why don’t we just leave now?” Chu Susu suggested. “That way, we can avoid the danger.”

“Because I sense someone waiting for me.”

Han Xuan drew in a slight breath. “And it’s the same group as last time—the ones who made that thug install a camera at the warehouse door. I need to know who they are.”

She pulled a palm-sized sketchbook and a charcoal pencil from her backpack, roughly sketching something.

“How can I help you?”

Han Xuan fell silent for a moment, her plain features etched with solemnity.

“Before midnight tonight, you must bring me back to your home,” she said, word by word. “No matter what I say to you afterward, please make sure you do this.”