After Vincent Su returned to the Su Clan estate, he was restless and irritable, his mind haunted by Serena Feng’s face—clearly not beautiful, yet somehow impossible to forget.
That face had no special features, yet it seemed branded into his mind, impossible to shake off.
Serena Feng’s smile, her anger, her teasing, her calm and seriousness—all of it.
He’d only met her twice, yet Vincent Su remembered every detail of Serena Feng’s appearance—the more he thought about it, the more annoyed he felt.
Serena Feng! Serena Feng!
You really are a witch!
In just such a short time, you’ve invaded my mind.
Crash—Vincent Su, furious, swept all the teacups off the table and smashed them onto the floor.
He hated this uncontrollable feeling—just thinking of Serena Feng made him anxious, like he was teetering on the edge of gain and loss.
“Young Master?” A maid entered, startled by Vincent Su’s fury.
Seth Rowe, from today onward, go to Feng Manor and keep an eye on Serena Feng. I want to know her every move—don’t miss a single detail.
"Yes!" Seth Rowe didn’t even lift his eyelids—he simply turned and walked out.
In the sunlight, his rugged, resolute face was covered in a layer of icy chill—so cold that no one dared meet his gaze. But if you looked closely...
...between his brows and eyes, there was a faint resemblance to Vincent Su!
After Seth Rowe left, Vincent Su’s anger faded a little. Looking at the mess in the room, he felt a twinge of embarrassment and turned to head for his study.
Vincent Su was a businessman, but also a scholar. His study was meticulously curated.
His study was the most heavily guarded place in the Su estate. Other than himself, only the cleaning staff could enter—for half an hour each day.
Vincent was a man of order—his desk was always neat, every item in its fixed place.
But today, as soon as he entered his study, Vincent noticed the inkstone on his desk was out of place.
His expression changed instantly. Vincent quickly left the study and, after making sure no one was following him, headed toward the rear courtyard.
In the rear courtyard stood a neglected rock garden and a foul-smelling pond—this place was forbidden ground in the Su estate.
No one knew how Vincent Su slipped away, but in just a few moments, he vanished into the rear courtyard and entered a long, hidden passage.
Both sides of the passage were inlaid with fist-sized luminous pearls, the floor paved with white marble slabs. But today, fresh blood stained the marble—it hadn’t been there long.
Seeing this, Vincent’s face showed a trace of panic; his steps grew hurried and unsteady. He rushed into the secret chamber and saw a black-clad, silver-masked man lying on the ground, clutching a broken arrow at his chest.
That black-clad, silver-masked man was none other than the one who’d followed Serena Feng in daylight, together with Prince Terrence Valen.
"Lance Quinn!" Vincent Su hurried forward and helped the black-clad, silver-masked man—Lance Quinn—sit up.
Lance Quinn moved slightly, clutching his wounded chest. A bloodstained arrowhead was embedded right at his heart.
"Vincent, dig the arrow out for me." Though injured, Lance Quinn’s voice was cold and proud—there wasn’t a trace of weakness in it.
That voice—chilly and arrogant. Just from the sound, you could tell this was no ordinary man.
If Serena Feng were here, she’d surely notice that this voice sounded strangely familiar.
Vincent glanced at Lance Quinn’s wound and shook his head immediately: "Lance, no—it’s too dangerous. The arrowhead is stuck at the junction of your heart and lungs. One wrong move and you could die. How did you get hurt so badly?"
Vincent had been busy all day with Leon Su’s situation and hadn’t paid attention to Lance Quinn’s whereabouts.
"Prince Terrence Valen found me. We fought. I got caught in a trap." Lance Quinn coughed, and bright red blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Princess Yara Valen—she really was no simple woman!
But Princess Yara still underestimated Serena Feng. That pre-wedding scandal didn’t drive her to death—instead, it forced out Serena Feng’s claws.
"Prince Terrence Valen—why did he really come to Eastlyn? For two years he’s used bride selection as an excuse, traveling everywhere, racking up romantic debts, but he hasn’t chosen anyone. What’s his real plan?"
Mentioning Prince Terrence Valen made Vincent’s expression turn solemn.
A four-kingdom bride search? Hmph! None of them are fools. Only those naive women believe that excuse.
Would the Crown Prince of Lyndaria really waste time picking a bride? Ridiculous.
Royal men have plenty of official and secondary wives. What’s there to choose? If they meet someone they like, they just take her.
Behind his mask, Lance Quinn’s eyes flashed with gravity, then he quietly closed them.
"Vincent, hurry. Tomorrow I have that mission—I can’t miss it."
"No, your injury is too severe. If I pull it out, you’ll die… and you’re not going anywhere tomorrow." Vincent shook his head without hesitation.
Lance Quinn was risking his life.
"Vincent, I have no choice. Do it—I can handle it, I won’t die!" He only had four hours left; he couldn’t wait any longer!
He absolutely couldn’t let anyone discover his true identity!
If his identity was exposed, all his years of effort would be wasted.
"Fine." Gritting his teeth, Vincent stood and grabbed a small dagger from the stone cabinet. He pressed it to Lance Quinn’s wound; the cold blade touched pale flesh. Lance Quinn gasped in pain but didn’t utter a sound.
"No, Lance—I can’t get it out. It’s too dangerous." The arrowhead was barbed, U-shaped and hooked in the flesh. If pulled, it would tear the blood vessels near the heart.
With an arrow wound like this, even if it wasn’t at the heart, pulling it out would rip out a chunk of flesh.
Lance Quinn drew a sharp breath. He knew the wound was hard to deal with—otherwise, he’d have pulled the arrow out himself.
The room fell into instant silence, except for the blood dripping from Lance Quinn’s wound.
Suddenly, Serena Feng’s image flashed through Vincent’s mind. His eyes lit up: "Lance, I just thought of someone who can save you."
"You mean Serena Feng?" Lance Quinn’s eyes gleamed.
"Yes, her." Vincent didn’t ask how Lance Quinn knew about her.
"Leon Su really didn’t die?" Lance Quinn thought of the scene he hadn’t finished watching when he chased after Prince Terrence Valen.
"Yes, Lance. Trust her just this once—I think Serena Feng is something special."
"Fine, go find her. Just don’t let her discover my secret." Lance Quinn closed his eyes, his mind flashing with the image of that battered but unbreakable woman.
If he had any other choice, Lance Quinn would never have wanted further dealings with Serena Feng—or with any woman, for that matter.