Chapter 18: ◎Poor Hospitality, Please Dig In.◎

Tong Rencheng mulled over his plan to slip away from the castle first and lay low for a while.

The three killers had vanished without a trace, yet Tong Yuwu was alive and well. Now the entire territory was gripped by paranoia and fear. If he stuck around much longer, he risked someone digging up something incriminating.

But before he left, he needed to squeeze some money out of Tong Yuwu.

Conveniently, she had invited him to dinner. He had his excuse ready in advance and accepted with feigned enthusiasm.

The castle felt unnaturally quiet that evening. As he made his way from the guest room down to the restaurant on the first floor, he didn’t spot a single servant. The fading sunset filtered through the tall corridor windows, casting patches of orange light across the floor. An inexplicable chill ran through Tong Rencheng. He pulled his coat tighter and quickened his pace. Behind him, the darkness crept forward inch by inch, swallowing the last remnants of warmth.

Two candles flickered in the restaurant, providing a touch more light than the corridor.

The young mistress of the castle wore a long red-and-black gown. Her curly black hair draped over her ears, accentuating the delicate, refined features of her face. She lifted her gaze, her purple pupils catching the candlelight like lifeless gems, silently welcoming her guest.

“Where are those stupid slaves?” Tong Rencheng raised his voice deliberately. “I can’t believe they’d slack off this badly.”

He tilted his chin upward as he took his seat. While unfolding his napkin, he caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye: the wooden door at the entrance—carved with a thicket of rosebushes—had closed silently at some point.

Tong Yuwu offered no reply. Her eyes remained fixed on the red wine glass atop the table. Tong Rencheng rapped his knuckles against the wood and called out again. “Yuwu? Are you even listening to me?” When she finally turned to him, he cleared his throat. “What I mean is, where are those lowly servants?”

Tong Yuwu said, “They’re not here.”

Tong Rencheng frowned, irked by her dismissiveness. “Then how am I supposed to eat?”

His gaze drifted to the plate before him: a slab of raw, bloody steak, seared no more than a third of the way through, utterly cold. The wine in the glass appeared fine enough—crystal clear, without a hint of sediment—but its hue seemed excessively red, perhaps a trick of the candlelight.

“You don’t have to eat,” Tong Yuwu replied. She lifted her glass. “I asked you here because I have some questions.”

Tong Rencheng straightened up abruptly. “Is this how you treat me?” But his bluster crumbled quickly, and he slumped back down. “What do you need to ask me? Cough—I mean, I don’t have anything to hide from you.”

The wheelchair rumbled with a low gurgle as it rolled forward. Tong Yuwu, who had been seated at the far end of the table, approached him slowly. Had Tong Rencheng been thinking straight, he might have noticed that she held her wine glass in one hand and rested the other on her knee—no one was pushing the chair.

“Who was that person?” Tong Yuwu cut straight to the chase. “Where is she now?”

Tong Rencheng shook his head. “What person? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tong Yuwu narrowed her eyes.

Her hand swayed the crystal glass gently. The red wine inside sloshed with the motion, climbing the rim until it teetered on the brink of spilling over. With the last shreds of her patience, she spoke. “The one who broke into my bedroom on the night of the Coming-of-Age Banquet.”

“What? Someone broke into your bedroom at night?” Tong Rencheng rubbed his neck and swallowed hard. “That’s huge—why didn’t you tell Uncle right away?” He studied her expression. “Did… did they hurt you?”

“If you’re referring to those three masked men, then no.” Tong Yuwu paused her movements and regarded him with a faint, mocking smile. “Is that the best trash you could muster?”

Tong Rencheng opened his mouth to respond, only to find his throat constricted as if by an invisible grip. He gaped wide, but all that escaped were strangled heh-heh gasps. Tong Yuwu hovered just three steps away. He reached out to her instinctively for help, but his hand clutched only empty air. He tumbled awkwardly from his chair and crashed to his knees.

In the chaos, he knocked the bloody steak plate to the floor. Porcelain shattered with a sharp bang, and the meat rolled to rest by his knee. Its leaking juices soaked into the fabric of his trousers.

Tong Yuwu cocked her head. “You look just like them right now.”

Realization dawned on Tong Rencheng. His eyes bulged in horror.

“I prefer this expression on you.” She was just a diminutive girl confined to a wheelchair, yet with him on his knees, she loomed above him. She gazed down at his pathetic form groveling at her feet, and for the first time that evening, the corners of her mouth curved upward. In high spirits, she offered an explanation. “It’s more honest. More genuine.”

Fighting the suffocating pressure, Tong Rencheng craned his neck to look up. All he could see above the deep crimson hem of her skirt were those icy purple pupils. It was a color that should have seemed enchanting, dreamlike—but in that moment, it filled him with more dread than the encroaching unknown darkness all around.

Tong Yuwu’s gaze held a trace of pity. “So I actually wronged you.” The hand resting on her lap slowly clenched into a fist. “She wasn’t someone you brought in.

“Indeed, if she were acting on your orders, why would she have only…”

The rest of her words caught behind her rose-colored lips. Tong Yuwu’s eyes darkened as she sank into memories that blurred the line between pleasure and pain.

Tong Rencheng clawed desperately at his empty neck. His nails raked bloody trails across his skin, but they did nothing to ease the suffocating pressure. Terror had risen to a fever pitch in his heart, and the broken gasps rasping from his throat spilled out amid a torrent of snot and tears.

This snapped Tong Yuwu’s attention back to him. She looked down at the man. “Sorry. I should have realized this sooner.”

Tong Rencheng’s pupils were starting to bulge outward. He jabbed frantically at his neck with his fingers, desperate for Tong Yuwu to see his agony.

Her expression remained impassive as she extended the hand holding her wine glass.

The crystal goblet hovered above Tong Rencheng’s head. In the next instant, her slender wrist flicked, and the blood-red wine cascaded down, drenching his scalp. The wine streamed wildly in rivulets, seeping into his ears, eyes, nostrils, and the corners of his mouth before spilling back out.

Tong Rencheng stared in stunned silence, staging a grotesque spectacle of blood pouring from every orifice.

“This is the finest vintage in the castle. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” Tong Yuwu released her grip, and the crystal goblet tumbled down to join the porcelain saucer below, shattering into jagged shards. “My apologies for the poor hospitality. Please, savor it.”

With that, she leaned back against her chair. The wheelchair rumbled forward on its own, without anyone pushing it. The restaurant door swung open silently, like a faithful servant bidding farewell to its mistress. Once Tong Yuwu’s figure had vanished from sight, it closed again on its own.

The darkest, coldest night had only just passed. Dawn’s light filtered into the corridor from the east—not the dim hush of dusk, but the fresh stillness of early morning, before the world had stirred awake.

Tong Yuwu returned to the master bedroom and immediately glanced toward the pillow. Little White Cat was still sprawled out in the same carefree pose she’d been in when Tong Yuwu left, occasionally puffing out a tiny snore. Tong Yuwu relaxed at the sight, shrugged off her outer clothes, and slipped quietly back into bed.

Sounds could be muffled, but body heat could not. The chill clinging to her from outside clashed sharply with Little White Cat’s warmth. Only after lying down did Tong Yuwu notice it. She shifted carefully toward the far edge of the bed. But Little White Cat, deep in slumber, seemed to sense the movement. With a grumpy roll, she burrowed into Tong Yuwu’s neck to share her warmth.

Even as shivers rippled through her from the cold, Little White Cat stretched out a front paw and rested it gently on Tong Yuwu’s shoulder.

The young noble miss’s eyes shimmered with tenderness. She leaned close and pressed a soft kiss to Little White Cat’s forehead, then gently closed her own eyes.

~~~

Meng Yiran followed the fallout from Tong Rencheng’s ordeal closely, but the sly little rat had tried to take his own life out of sheer guilt before Tong Yuwu could lay a hand on him. He’d nearly died right there in the castle dining hall. The castle doctor managed to revive him, but his mind shattered afterward. Anyone who approached set him off, his voice cracking into hoarse screams as he bashed his head against the wall in a frenzy.

Meng Yiran felt no pity. The wicked had finally met their just deserts.

Two days later, an unfamiliar man arrived at the castle. He claimed that Tong Rencheng had previously placed his injured son in the man’s care, acting in the name of the Tong Family. But the funds Tong Rencheng had provided were running dry, so the man had come to ask about next steps.

Tong Yuwu learned the man’s identity from the steward and summoned him.

The man couldn’t quite hide the dazzled admiration in his eyes upon seeing Tong Yuwu, but he kept it well in check and behaved with perfect decorum.

Cradling Little White Cat in her arms, Tong Yuwu asked, “I hear you run a madhouse?”

“Sigh, you’ve caught us at a low point, miss.” The man bowed low, answering promptly. “That madhouse… well, we had a few mishaps, and with the money drying up, we’ve been planning to shut it down.”

“Shut it down?” Tong Yuwu tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. “What a shame that would be.”

The man hesitated. “You mean…”

“How much would it take to keep the place running?” Tong Yuwu reclined in her wheelchair, her face shadowed from view. “My uncle and nephew are both suffering from mental afflictions. They need expert physicians and a proper facility to help them recover.”

Ecstasy bloomed across the man’s face. “We’re the premier team for treating mental disorders—we can absolutely meet your needs!” He paused, then grinned wider. “The startup capital wouldn’t be much. With your resources, a drop in the bucket would cover it…”

Tong Yuwu nodded, her demeanor innocently earnest. “That’s perfect.”

After the man departed in high spirits, Tong Yuwu called for the steward once more.

“We’ve apprehended two suspects,” the steward reported, head bowed. “They belong to a notorious assassin gang, originally operating out west. They crossed some powerful family clan, got hunted down, and fled to the edges of our territory.

“They were acting on that person’s orders to assassinate the young miss. The two who were caught were responsible for providing backup, while the other three handled the actual operation. But after those three entered the castle, they lost all contact. Their whereabouts are still unknown, and even their accomplices have no idea where they went.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “One of the suspects speculated that the three had reached some kind of agreement. They changed their plans before carrying out the assassination, stole some gold and silver, and then ditched the rest of the group.

“But this subordinate cannot verify that. We’ll only know the truth once the other three are captured.”

Tong Yuwu had no interest in these details. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the desk.

The steward bowed even lower. “As for the intruder who broke into the young miss’s bedroom that night… this subordinate has proven incompetent and found no leads so far.”

Tong Yuwu let out a neutral “Mm.”

“You may go.”

The steward withdrew. Meng Yiran turned around and rested her front paws on Tong Yuwu’s arm, offering a soft mew of comfort.

Tong Yuwu scratched under her chin and played with her for a good while before picking up Meng Yiran and setting her on the desk.

Meng Yiran was just starting to wonder what was going on when Tong Yuwu reached for a book nearby and rested it on her lap.

The tome was exceptionally thick, bound in pure black—it was the one with those bizarre illustrations of human figures.

Meng Yiran felt an instinctive aversion to the book, but Tong Yuwu had already opened it to a specific page. That page was filled top to bottom with dense text and no odd diagrams. Little White Cat breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

But then she spotted something strange on the page. She had just narrowed her eyes for a closer look when Tong Yuwu reached out and touched the four strands of silver long hair tucked between the pages.

She turned to Little White Cat. “Do you want to stay here and play, or come with me to a certain place?”