Chapter Twenty-Four: Flaw

“If our god discovers what you’ve done, Hanlan will be cast aside,” she warned.

After ending the call, Yan Qiluo immediately connected to Su Nuan’s virtual domain.

Within that space, Su Nuan reclined on a soft couch, dressed in a flowing pink robe of ancient design, idly fanning himself. He exuded a languid, seductive allure. Were he a woman, surely he would be a calamity to the state of Yang.

“Cast aside?” Su Nuan flicked open his fan, his phoenix eyes tilting with a sly gleam. “It’s only an hour’s worth of data altered. Our god is always merciful—why would he cast anyone out?”

“And besides, you’re the one who did it. I merely made a modest suggestion.” As he spoke, he drew the fan to his chest with a delicate motion.

“You… You’re shameless!” Yan Qiluo cried, unable to contain her indignation.

But then, as if noticing something, her eyes sharpened and fixed on the fan. “That’s blasphemy!”

Upon the fan was painted a striking figure—she recognized him instantly as Ye Han, just as he had appeared when visiting Su Nuan’s private realm.

If not to verify Ye Han’s existence herself, she would never have granted the Su family authority over her virtual space.

“Blasphemy?” Su Nuan let out a wicked laugh, waving his fan to cast a projection into the air. “The real blasphemer is you!”

Upon the projection, Yan Qiluo appeared, hands on her hips, interrogating Ye Han.

“It’s only because our god is generous that he doesn’t hold it against you,” Su Nuan sneered, glancing at Yan Qiluo with open disdain.

He detested this seventh-generation Yan—little more than a stunted bean sprout. He couldn’t fathom what the god saw in her.

“You…!” Yan Qiluo, furious, jabbed a finger at Su Nuan’s nose. How could the present scion of the Su family be so revolting?

“What about me?” Su Nuan stepped closer, scrutinizing the projection and adjusting its angle. “From this side, you look even worse.”

Looking down at her, he didn’t hesitate to ridicule. Mimicking Ye Han, he reached out, feigning a gesture to rest his hand on Yan Qiluo’s head, as if searching for some undiscovered secret.

“Get lost, you creep!” Yan Qiluo knocked his hand away with a swipe, baring her small tigerish teeth. “How dare you touch my head?”

“Oh?” Su Nuan regarded her, fierce yet childishly cute, as if he’d stumbled on a new world.

He crooked his little finger, measuring a scant width between his fingertips. “There is a hint of charm in you after all.”

“But you’re still nothing compared to me,” he declared, shaking his fan, his gaze growing uncertain and dreamy. “Could it be our god’s tastes have changed?”

Yan Qiluo couldn’t bear his narcissism a moment longer.

“Disgusting!” she spat, forgetting entirely why she’d sought him out and severed the connection.

“How childish,” Su Nuan scoffed as her avatar vanished. “With patience like that, you’re not even qualified to vie for his favor!”

“If not for our god’s decree, would you ever be fit to lead Hanlan?”

…

Xiyuan Star.

Ye Han stood before the collapsed mountain peak, an inexplicable chill running through him. Three hours had passed since Chen Xu’s last message, promising a precision strike, after which no further contact came.

Surely, after such an assault, basic courtesy would be to check in? Ye Han felt abandoned by his own people.

“They used conventional warheads. The summit caved in, causing local collapses, but there’s still shelter inside,” he observed, watching survivors crawling out of the smoking rubble below. Relief washed over him.

With the mountains as a shield, the blast had not struck them directly. The lowest of the slaves were third-tier cultivators; a local collapse wouldn’t kill them, only cause minor injuries.

“What now, young master?” Unlike the soot-stained, battered survivors, the steward remained immaculate and composed.

Ye Han pointed to the slaves emerging from the mountain. “Go yourself to every camp within the dynasty’s borders. Gather all slaves of third tier or higher and have them infiltrate Baiyang City.”

“And your safety, young master?” The steward’s brow creased with concern.

“It’s nothing—I can take care of myself,” Ye Han replied with a dismissive wave.

He retrieved a ring from his bundle and handed it to the steward. “Keep this on you. If anything urgent happens, go somewhere private and, with your will, call out ‘Hanlan’ and report my name.”

Each ring corresponded to an operator on Earth; once the steward gave Ye Han’s name, they would relay the message by other means.

“Understood.” The steward accepted the ring, hesitating as if to speak.

Ye Han slung his bundle over his shoulder and turned. “Is there anything else?”

“No, just… take care out there, young master.” There was a trace of reluctance in the steward’s eyes. In all his memory, this was the young master’s first time traveling alone.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” Ye Han grinned, waving as he strode away.

Once out of the steward’s sight, he vanished from the spot with a spatial jump.

Night fell.

Inside the now-empty mountain, a sudden clatter echoed from beneath the collapsed chamber—a stone rolling loose.

A scrawny figure crawled out from under the debris, filthy but alive.

“Bah!” Gu Shiyi spat grit from his mouth, scanning the cavern by the light of a crystal lamp. “Always hunting geese, yet today the goose pecks my eye.”

He had never imagined Ye Han would be so shameless, tearing up their pact the moment he’d learned the secrets of enchantment.

“But you left a flaw,” Gu Shiyi muttered, pulling a carefully preserved contract from his breast.

It was the slave transfer agreement for Baiyang City, bearing a trace of Ye Han’s blood.

“Let’s see what trick you’re playing,” he growled, pressing his index finger to the contract. A faint blue glow seeped from his fingertip; as it touched the parchment, the words began to fade, as if time itself flowed backward.

Soon, the contract was blank once more. A droplet of dark blue-black ink hovered above the page.

The glow at Gu Shiyi’s finger grew brighter, drawing out two fresh drops of red blood from the ink.

“Now you can’t escape,” he said with a twisted smile. Despite his pallor from overusing his gift, a feverish flush colored his cheeks.

“Divide!” He sliced at one of the blood drops, splitting it in two.

He swallowed one half, then sent the other back into the ink drop with another flicker of blue light.

When the ink returned to the contract, the vanished script slowly reappeared.

Clutching the restored contract, Gu Shiyi glanced back at the stone chamber.

“So the transmission channel is still here!”