The beggar was already standing, his posture hunched and shaky. He wore tattered, dirt-streaked pajamas and a filthy white shirt, now brown with mud and gri.
His hair was long, brittle, and matted, hanging in greasy strands that obscured his face. The dirt-covered man looked as though he had erged from years of neglect.
Lin Fei studied him carefully, his gaze narrowing. Beneath the gri, the man’s age was difficult to determine, though the grey streaks in his hair suggested he was likely in his sixties.
"Are you all right?" Lin Fei asked, his voice calm but laced with a tinge of concern.
The beggar slowly raised his head, revealing a pair of sharp, weary eyes beneath the curtain of unkempt hair.
Lin Fei pinched his nose and approached the beggar. "Are you alright, sir?"
The beggar glanced around, his eyes unfocused, as though he were in a daze.
Lin Fei examined him again. Apart from being a filthy beggar, there were no visible injuries or signs of bleeding. He sighed in relief.
"You seem fine. We have to leave now, so we can’t take you to the hospital." He opened his wallet, pulling out so cash and a business card.
"Here, if the dical bill exceeds this, call at this number. And don’t suddenly appear out of nowhere at the road again."
The old beggar blinked, accepting the money and business card absentmindedly. He stared at the card before his expression abruptly shifted. Beneath his greasy gray hair, his eyes lit up with surprise and excitent.
Lin Fei felt uneasy under the beggar’s piercing gaze. "We’ll be leaving now."
"...W-wait, L-Lin F-Fei," the beggar rasped behind him.
Lin Fei froze, startled. How did the beggar know his na? Then it occurred to him—the old man must have read it off the business card. Calming himself, he turned back.
"What is it, sir? We’re in a hurry."
The old beggar fumbled in his pocket before extending a hand. "...Give this to h-him."
Lin Fei recoiled at the sight of the grimy object in the beggar’s hand. "I’m sorry, I can’t help you right now. I really have to go."
"And d-don’t take those p-pills. They’re n-not good for y-you."
Lin Fei stopped in his tracks, stunned. How did this beggar know he was taking pills?
His brows furrowed. Was this beggar watching him from afar? Groups of scamrs often pretended to be injured in staged accidents.
Lin Fei’s wariness heightened.
"You should get checked out," he said, turning to leave.
But the beggar followed. "You still l-like chick-ken from K-KFC, don’t y-you?"
Lin Fei froze, his eyes widening. Only he—and perhaps Bei Sangyun—knew that was his favorite food. But it couldn’t be Bei Sangyun. They had severed ties four years ago.
The old man seized his mont of pause, grabbing Lin Fei’s hand with his grimy fingers and pressing sothing cold and smooth into his palm.
"Y-you s-stole this a long ti a-ago. Now it’s t-ti to return it. But don’t g-give it to her. Give it to h-him. It might h-help them."
Lin Fei looked down and saw a small, gleaming gem that shimred like the deep ocean under sunlight. It was set in a silver chain.
"A necklace," he muttered, inspecting the vintage design.
The old man’s gaze softened as he stared at the necklace. "Fix it this ti, L-Lin Fei."
Lin Fei frowned. None of it made sense.
Without another word, the old beggar shuffled away.
"Hey! Don’t leave this to !" Lin Fei called, stepping forward to follow him.
But Chuan Xingyun’s voice rang out from the car. "What’s taking so long?!"
Lin Fei glanced back to answer her. "Wait, I need to return this—"
But when he turned again, the beggar was gone.
Lin Fei stood there, stunned. He scanned the area but saw no trace of the man.
Was the beggar that fast? How could he have vanished in re seconds?
"Co on! Just get in the car!" Chuan Xingyun yelled again.
Still dazed, Lin Fei walked back to the car. Everything about the encounter felt surreal, as if it were a hallucination.
But the cold, solid weight of the necklace in his palm told him it was real.
...
From the floor-to-ceiling window, Lin Zhe stood motionless, gazing at the vibrant scenery outside his room.
The Lin family’s garden was filling with guests, their chatter and laughter carrying faintly to his ears as they mingled and exchanged gossip.
Lin Zhe’s eyes darkened as he observed them. His usual gentle smile was absent, replaced by a cold, unyielding expression.
These were the sa people who once stood by his side, pledging loyalty. Yet, the mont the fourth branch began its ascent, they had abandoned him without hesitation, leaving him and his branch in shambles.
He wasn’t blind to the truth. The tides had turned, and it was painfully clear who would claim the title of heir. The position he had once believed was destined to be his was slipping away.
Lin Zhe clenched his fists. He had worked tirelessly for that role for as long as he could rember. Not once had he doubted his future as the head of the Lin family. It was his by right—by birth, by effort, by destiny.
But destiny had taken an unexpected turn.
The second and third branches were out of competition, just as he had anticipated. Yet, he had underestimated the fourth branch. The very branch he had dismissed as insignificant had risen to overpower him, toppling his ambitions in the end.
How could he not be bitter? How could he not burn with anger?
"I won’t let them steal it from . It’s mine," Lin Zhe muttered under his breath, his reflection in the glass revealing the cruelty smoldering in his gaze.
He wasn’t finished—not yet. Tonight would be his last chance to reclaim what he had lost. If it ant getting his hands dirty one more ti, so be it.
"Is everything ready?" he asked, his voice low and sharp, without turning around.
From the shadowed corner of the dimly lit room, a deep voice responded. "Yes, Master. Everything is prepared."
A cold smile curled Lin Zhe’s lips. "Then all we need to do is wait for our protagonists. The show shall begin."
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