Blood-sucking fangs

Chapter 36

He pondered for a moment, then met Ruoya's gaze: "I know I may not be able to make a difference, but..." He paused, unsure of what words to use to express his meaning.

"But you want to give it a try?"

He nodded.

Ruoya lit a cigarette, paused for a moment, and then said, "To be honest, your aptitude is only average, and your personality is not suitable for business. If no one specifically promotes you, you can only rise to the middle level at most. However, I have to admit that you are lucky."

Feng Nian'en gave a wry smile.

“I know joining the vampires has never been a lucky thing for you, but in the current situation, if you were just a human, you might never be able to get the money you need in your entire life.”

Feng Nian'en looked at her, puzzled.

"That's right, you don't have a rich father or inherit a large fortune, but you do have a wealthy elder relative."

Volume Two, Chapter Twenty-One: Father's Last Words

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"Cangya?" The voice couldn't hide the surprise.

"Surprised?"

He nodded honestly.

“That’s right,” Ruoya sneered, “Cangya’s physique does resemble that of a teenager, but he is older than any human and is your elder relative!”

"I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean anything by it... I... I..."

Ruoya nodded and said coldly, "Our lineage of vampires is having a small gathering next Wednesday. Cangya is free to move around on that day, and Linya will also be there."

Feng Nian'en looked at her with a troubled expression.

"Think it over carefully. If you come, it means you are willing to officially join the vampire clan. The prince will formally introduce you to the members of our lineage. Although Cangya is still in confinement, I will temporarily teach you on his behalf."

In return, you will be placed under the Prince's protection and will receive one-tenth of Cangya's wealth, while also being able to seek help from other vampires.

"Formally...join?" he murmured, as if to himself.

“That’s good, it shows you’re willing to give up three years of freedom.” She paused here, then continued, “According to the rules, you must live with your elders for the first three years.”

Feng Nian'en was stunned for a moment, and was about to speak when she saw Ruoya stand up: "Let's go, we have an appointment with a client."

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Long Xinsheng packed his luggage expressionlessly, trying his best not to notice Xu Zuo, who was leaning against the headboard, looking at him with a half-smile.

"I thought you were more magnanimous, man." The teasing tone made it clear that the speaker had no remorse.

Long Xinsheng did not answer and continued packing his clothes.

“Okay,” he shrugged, “I ruined your plans, but I also got you siblings reunited sooner, didn’t I?”

The clothes in Long Xinsheng's hands were almost torn, but he still didn't say anything.

"If you really care, then I'll buy the Zhang family's property as compensation. How about that? That should make up for it, right?"

"You dare!" he shouted sternly, unable to contain himself any longer. He looked up and met the other man's smiling eyes, realizing he had fallen into his trap again. He took a deep breath and tried to make his voice sound as calm as possible: "I'm not angry, Mr. Suzuka. You don't need to worry about the Zhang family's problem."

"Oh? Lying isn't good for a child. I received your resignation letter today."

"Yes, I submitted the report as required and will continue to work until this day next month as required, but this is only because I no longer need to stay at Weite, and not for any other reason."

"Really? So you're moving out because you're not satisfied with Moonlight's services?"

"No, Moonlight's service is excellent. I'm only moving out because I've found a new place."

So you're saying you're not angry at all?

“Yes, so Mr. Suzaku need not bother with me.” He glared at him, his intention to leave was self-evident.

Suzaku let out a series of low laughs, stood up, took two steps forward, and extended his hand: "Since that's the case, let's shake hands. I'll have to take care of you in the future."

Long Xinsheng frowned, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

“The house you bought this afternoon is right next to yours,” he said, giving a graceful bow.

Volume Two, Chapter Twenty-Two of Father's Last Words

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“Since we are so destined to meet,” he continued, “I think we might as well get closer in the future. Besides, you are Sam’s prized disciple. I have always had a pleasant experience working with wizards of your lineage.”

Long Xinsheng's face instantly darkened like a cloud covering his head. His eyes flashed, and he stretched out his hand, his voice still formulaic: "I hope Mr. Suzu will take good care of me in the future."

"No problem, no problem."

Her smiling eyes seemed to mock him, but her hands made no other move. She squeezed his hand twice and then let go, patting his shoulder: "I won't bother you while you pack your luggage. See you tonight."

After he finished speaking, he walked out of the room with his usual lazy and ghostly gait.

The door slammed shut, and Long Xinsheng could no longer contain himself, dropping the shirt he was holding and kicking it onto the bedside table!

Damn it!

I've fallen into that vampire's trap again!

He gritted his teeth and kicked again, then took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

What exactly does that vampire want to do?

Why keep harping on him from the very beginning?

He took a half-empty bottle of Napoleon wine marked with an "X" from the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass, and only calmed down completely after drinking the last drop. But that's exactly what made him even more furious!

If he dared to admit it, that vampire's target from beginning to end was him. Not Zhang Jiru's future son-in-law, nor Sam's prized disciple, but him—Long Xinsheng!

He was no stranger to this situation; there were plenty of people abroad who were only interested in the same sex, not to mention his outstanding appearance. But no matter what kind of person they were, he had a way of dealing with them. If they were useful, he would maintain a distant relationship within a certain range; if they were not, he would try to make them give up on their own.

From a young age, he learned not to forcefully reject those who had ulterior motives towards him, even if they seemed useless now, as there was no guarantee they wouldn't be useful in the future. If he were to truly break off relations, he had to ensure that the person would absolutely not have any impact on him in the future.

But that vampire!

Thinking of this, he clenched his hands again, and the veins on the back of his hands bulged out.

That vampire has driven him to this point!

For years, he had never lost his temper with anyone. Even his hatred for Zhang Jiru had long since seeped into his bones and blood, and he would never reveal it in the slightest. He always wore a perfect mask, always polite, always elegant, always confident, and always in control of others.

Except for that vampire!

From the first time he saw him, he had a feeling that disaster was about to strike. He was afraid of that hunter's eyes, but he was even more afraid of himself. The momentary joy was enough to make him fearful after he came to his senses.

He tried his best to avoid him, but fell into his traps time and time again. The traps weren't particularly sophisticated; anyone else would have been more capable of resisting them.

Yes, Long Xinsheng was bold and decisive, admitting that the vampire was special to him, but so what? He had absolutely no interest in having anything to do with him anymore. His purpose in returning was revenge! To make his sister understand the truth, and to reclaim everything he had lost!

He has been working towards this for twenty years! For a full twenty years, his life goal, everything he has done, has been for this final success, and he will not allow anyone or anything to stand in his way, including himself!

He slammed his fist into the small door of the liquor cabinet, shattering the glass and drawing out streaks of red blood. He raised his hand and licked the wound, the blood mixed with shards of glass bringing him back to that bright yet cold day.

Volume Two, Chapter Twenty-Three of Father's Last Words

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He couldn't remember what his past was like; his memories seemed to begin in America.

America was terrifying to him because everything was unfamiliar, except for his father. He always remembered what his father looked like because he had photographs. There was only his father, not his mother.

But what is a father?

Dad was just a man who would visit him on regular holidays, buy him lots of toys, and take him to the park. But that was enough; for a child, that was enough for him to love this man, to love his father.

He remembered that every time he had to go back, he would cry and make a fuss. His father would also have a stern face and say in a terrible tone, "You didn't have to go back. You could have lived a happy life. You had a mother, but all of that has been taken away! You have to go back! What do you want me to do without your mother!"

Dad never said who that person was. But from that moment on, he hated that person to the core, even though he didn't know what hatred meant at the time.

His father came and went, still buying him toys and taking him to the park, but he vaguely sensed something had changed because the toys were getting simpler. Finally, he was taken home. He happily followed his father.

But from that time on, he never got any toys again.

My dad always drinks. When he's drunk, he cries, smashes things, and curses. When he sobers up, I see him cowering against the wall, so I take him to a convenience store and buy him a huge amount of food and alcohol.

He gradually learned to take care of himself, gradually learned to store the food he bought, and gradually learned to take money out of his father's pocket to buy things.

Then, on that day, a very sunny day, shards of sunlight shone on the glass, dazzlingly bright. He carried bread and wine, inching his way up to the attic, the light gradually dimming. He entered the room, vaguely sensing something frightening about the small space.

It was eerily quiet. Even Dad's snoring had stopped.

He found his father in the toilet, the floor covered in blood.

His father was dead, that's what people told him. How did he die? People whispered behind his back: suicide. Everyone thought his father committed suicide. Only he knew that wasn't true; his father was killed by that person!

He was sent to an orphanage, where there were clean clothes and lots of toys, but he always sneaked out. At first, he had only one goal—to go home, though he never succeeded, and he was always easily found. Later, he learned to run in other directions, so he spent more and more time outside, until finally no one could find him anymore, or rather, no one came looking for him anymore.

He was free, but he didn't know where his home was. He stole, he lied, and he cried when he was taken to the police station because he knew that tears could buy him a more lenient environment, and he would run away again whenever he had the chance.

He never went to primary school; he learned to read in a juvenile detention center, where he learned the importance of gangs.

On his fourteenth birthday, he received a black notebook from a lawyer. From there, he finally learned who "that person" was and the meaning of his father's words.

"Everything that person had should have been mine, but now I only have you. Don't let me down, child. Take back what's rightfully ours, tell your sister the truth about whom you've never met, and take revenge!"

revenge!

No one can stop him from taking revenge!

Volume Two, Chapter Twenty-Four: Father's Last Words

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Time usually flies, but these past few days have been terrifyingly fast for Feng Nian'en; in the blink of an eye, it's already this dreadful Wednesday.

He came; he still came.

He took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell a few times, varying the length of the ring as Ruoya had instructed. Immediately, the light in front of the door came on, casting a pale white glow. A moment later, the ornate black doors slid open, and a man dressed in a black uniform, who appeared to be a butler, bowed to him: "Good evening, sir. The Prince is already waiting for you."

As he spoke, he turned around and led the way.

This house, which looked unremarkable from the outside, was surprisingly large inside; the front yard that Feng Nian'en saw was already the size of two Zhang families' houses. A path of cobblestones led to the house, flanked by straight, tall trees. In the center was a pond, constructed of large stones, from which water sprayed in a fine, wide stream, displaying blue and gold hues.

The right side of the pool was full of cars, and the lights inside the house were bright, but it wasn't noisy.

The entire house was built of large white stones, paved with black marble whose patterns were no longer discernible, or dark brown floors that shimmered like ripples on water. Dozens of deep red roses were laid out on the living room table, their sweet, rich fragrance wafting out the door.

Feng Nian'en walked into the living room, and all the men and women in the room looked in his direction. He braced himself and walked up to the prince.

She was still dressed in white, still possessing an otherworldly air. Upon seeing him, she simply smiled gently and took his hand. Her hand was cold; vampires always have a low body temperature. Yet, it warmed his heart.