Chapter 30

Ning Qiuyan had countless questions he wanted to ask, but now that Guan Heng had given him the right to ask, he suddenly didn’t know what to say.

If he could only ask one question, which one did he want to know most?

He held a new puzzle piece in his hand, but Ning Qiuyan didn’t even look at where it should go to fit correctly. He just held it, his mind racing.

Fortunately, Guan Heng had enough patience.

He didn’t rush Ning Qiuyan, but instead started working on the puzzle himself.

Guan Heng’s fingers were long and deft, and he found the right pieces quickly, always seeming to pick the correct one and place it smoothly in the right spot. Within a few minutes, he had completed a small section of the broken image Ning Qiuyan had started, making significant progress.

At last, Ning Qiuyan thought of his first question, ready to use his first opportunity: “How many people have you killed?”

Guan Heng’s hand paused slightly, the puzzle piece flipping nimbly between his fingers before he withdrew it.

His expression didn’t change much, as if he wasn’t surprised by Ning Qiuyan’s question. But the look he gave-Ning Qiuyan’s heart suddenly tightened, feeling a bit of regret for overstepping, and Guan Heng clearly noticed.

This was indeed the question humans most wanted to know.

But Ning Qiuyan had played a clever trick.

He hadn’t asked Guan Heng, “Have you ever killed anyone?” but rather, “How many people have you killed?”

Even any other superior would feel offended by such a question, and if he’d met a hypocrite, they might even get angry.

Though Ning Qiuyan felt a bit of fear, he didn’t regret it.

He was intentionally probing the edge, subconsciously believing that Guan Heng wouldn’t do anything to him.

And Ning Qiuyan was right.

Guan Heng didn’t mind his little trick, and replied, “I don’t remember.”

How could that count as an answer?

It was practically cheating.

Ning Qiuyan couldn’t help but ask again, “You don’t remember?”

“Mm.” Guan Heng looked at him, his phoenix eyes swirling with emotion, hard to read, “I’ve killed too many people, it was so long ago, and I never had the habit of keeping count.”

Guan Heng spoke of “killing” so lightly that Ning Qiuyan’s scalp tingled.

What did he mean, killed too many, no habit of counting?

Just how many people had Guan Heng killed?

“Over a thousand years ago, during the Qing Dynasty, a war broke out on the border. I killed for three months there.”

Guan Heng described it unhurriedly, closing his eyes gently as if lost in memory.

“My blade grew dull from use. Even with my eyes closed, I could hear the wailing of the dead. Horse hooves trampled through the bloody mud, and the stench of blood on my body couldn’t be washed away for a whole year. When the war ended that year, more than half the people in the border counties were gone, and the city became a ghost town.”

Ning Qiuyan was astonished: “…A war? You were a soldier?”

Guan Heng opened his eyes and said, “I was the eldest legitimate son. I followed my father to war. The first time I went to the battlefield, I led a squad of infantrymen and launched a night raid on the enemy’s supply camp. It was a great victory.”

If Guan Heng’s tone had been somber when speaking of the souls lost to war, now, recalling his first victory, there was a trace of masculine pride and fierceness.

This quality was actually a contradiction in him, but after being tempered by the years, it blended together in a strange way.

Ning Qiuyan was awed.

In his own era, the world was at peace and war existed only in history books. This was the first time he’d heard a firsthand account from someone who had lived through war.

But… the Qing Dynasty, over a thousand years ago?

He suddenly realized that Guan Heng was actually over a thousand years old…

He had only known that Guan Heng was definitely older than Lu Qianque, but he had never imagined that Guan Heng’s age was ten times that of Lu Qianque. He didn’t have time to process this information, and still had many doubts about his own question.

“That was before you were transformed, right?”

Ning Qiuyan used a term he’d seen online, and Guan Heng didn’t correct him.

“Then, after you were transformed… did you ever kill anyone?”

More than anything, Ning Qiuyan wanted to know if Guan Heng had killed anyone after becoming a Vampire.

Guan Heng said “Yes,” not avoiding the question at all, but that was all-just one word, with no further explanation.

Perhaps to Guan Heng, the answer was obvious, and Ning Qiuyan’s probing was unnecessary.

A chill crept up Ning Qiuyan’s back again, but curiosity outweighed fear, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Then how were you transformed?”

Guan Heng reminded him, “That’s your second question.”

Ning Qiuyan: “…”

Guan Heng said mercilessly, “You’ve used up your chances for today.”

Ning Qiuyan could only shut his mouth, his cheeks puffing out slightly as he began to study the puzzle piece in his hand seriously. Guan Heng kept him company for a long time, and only when Ning Qiuyan started to doze off for the second time did he call his name: “Ning Qiuyan.”

Ning Qiuyan opened his eyes in a daze.

He saw Guan Heng stand up and say to him, “Go to sleep.”

Then something pressed lightly on his head.

It was a while after Guan Heng left the room before Ning Qiuyan slowly realized that Mr. Guan had just… patted his head again. He sat there in a daze for a long time before slowly getting up and dragging his numb legs downstairs.

He couldn’t stop the heat rising behind his ears.

*

The sudden easing of their relationship made Ning Qiuyan a little restless, and he didn’t fall asleep until two or three in the morning.

There was no internet downstairs. Several times he opened a matching game on his phone, but whenever he noticed the ceiling above his head, he obediently turned it off again.
The next day, as usual, Ning Qiuyan skipped breakfast, so he woke up a bit late.

When Uncle Kang knocked on the door, it was already ten in the morning. Ning Qiuyan, still drowsy, got up to open the door, feeling a little embarrassed. “Sorry, Grandpa Kang, I overslept.”

“No need to apologize,” Uncle Kang replied with a kindly smile. “Sir instructed that you don’t need to be woken up too early today.”

Ning Qiuyan felt even more abashed.

Could it be that even the sound of him tossing and turning in bed last night, unable to sleep, had been picked up by Guan Heng through the floorboards?

Ning Qiuyan went to take a shower of his own accord, changed into clean clothes, and then followed Uncle Kang up to the third floor. When he arrived, Dr. Ling was already in the small lounge outside the room on the third floor. Seeing him, Dr. Ling greeted him naturally.

“Morning, Xiao Ning.”

“Good morning, Dr. Ling.”

Guan Heng was not there.

Dr. Ling looked at Ning Qiuyan and said, “I heard your sleep quality hasn’t been great lately. Come with me later to get some calming oral solution; it should help you sleep better.”

Ning Qiuyan nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Ling.”

“You’re welcome.” Dr. Ling didn’t open his medical kit or prepare anything, but instead said to Ning Qiuyan, “Go on in. When you come out, I’ll disinfect you so you can recover faster.”

Ning Qiuyan was a bit confused, until he noticed that Dr. Ling had no intention of entering the room with him. Then he remembered that Dr. Ling had mentioned last time that they no longer needed to “put on a show.”

Back then, he had been completely in the dark.

He didn’t know Guan Heng’s identity, nor how Guan Heng would “feed.” So every time he came to donate blood, Dr. Ling would go through the motions of drawing blood. At the time, Ning Qiuyan had even doubted the amount of blood drawn, but had never realized it was a form of “protection” for him.

This time, from Guan Heng’s “drinking blood” at the dining table, to their conversation, to everyone’s attitude, Ning Qiuyan realized that nothing was being hidden anymore.

Seeing Ning Qiuyan still standing there, Dr. Ling politely added, “Mr. Guan is waiting for you inside.”

Ning Qiuyan responded with an “Oh,” walked up to the tightly closed double doors, and pushed them open.

The room was still shrouded in that familiar dimness, all the window shutters sealed tight, not a trace of natural light seeping in.

Ning Qiuyan was a little unaccustomed to the change in brightness, but then he heard Guan Heng’s voice: “Close the door.”

“Yes.” Startled, he quickly turned and closed the door as instructed.

The room was very quiet. Ning Qiuyan could only hear his own heartbeat and breathing; Guan Heng, as always, made no sound at all. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Guan Heng seated in the black velvet high-backed armchair.

Guan Heng was wearing a black robe that day, almost blending into the gloom, with only his face, neck, and fingers pale as cold jade.

It reminded Ning Qiuyan of the first time they met-a scene very much like this.

“Mr. Guan,” Ning Qiuyan greeted, “good morning.”

“Come here,” Guan Heng said, in much the same tone as their first meeting.

Ning Qiuyan walked over step by step.

Guan Heng no longer bothered with pleasantries, speaking as frankly as he had the night before. He had always disdained pretense, and now he was even more direct: “Kneel. Lower.”

Guan Heng was seated; Ning Qiuyan wasn’t sure how to get any lower, so he half-knelt in front of Guan Heng as instructed. Guan Heng leaned forward a bit, looking down at Ning Qiuyan’s face. “Take off your clothes.”

Ning Qiuyan trembled slightly.

It was just like the last time in the puzzle room when he took off his clothes voluntarily-Guan Heng didn’t need his “sacrifice,” but wanted him to face reality head-on and willingly fulfill the agreement.

Yes, fulfill the agreement.

There was no trace of flirtation or teasing in Guan Heng’s tone; it was almost cold, issuing commands.

Ning Qiuyan was wearing a crew-neck pullover sweater. With his lashes lowered, he obediently grabbed the hem and pulled it up, briefly exposing his rapidly rising and falling abdomen.

He didn’t dare look up at Guan Heng’s expression, only aware that his pulse was racing. Guan Heng must have heard it, because as soon as he took off his sweater, Guan Heng said, “Ning Qiuyan, you’re very afraid.”

And then said something that made Ning Qiuyan want to crawl into a hole.

“Where’s the courage you had last time?”

Ning Qiuyan: “…”

Underneath, Ning Qiuyan was still wearing a T-shirt, the collar much wider.

Guan Heng’s fingers touched the edge of the collar, brushing his skin-cool to the touch. Ning Qiuyan immediately closed his eyes, his thick black lashes trembling violently. This time, he couldn’t say a word.

The collar was pulled wider by those cool fingers.

Guan Heng showed no mercy.

His breath was very close. Ning Qiuyan heard him whisper by his ear, “…Alright. I’ll try to be gentle.”

A sensation as cold as those fingers, but softer and more ambiguous, landed on the skin of Ning Qiuyan’s neck-very light, as gentle as the words.

It was Guan Heng’s lips.

Ning Qiuyan knelt there, Guan Heng towering over him, enveloping him from above in a posture of absolute control.

That woody, faint fragrance unique to Guan Heng engulfed him, almost drowning Ning Qiuyan in it.

Like the mist of Wutong, the snow of Du Island, the cold gleam of a blade.

A sharp pain, accompanied by numbness, clearly radiated from the side of his neck.

And the sound of fangs piercing skin.