APR 33

Tianye Shooting Range was an exclusive members-only high-end shooting club, equipped not only with professional firearms and various types of shooting ranges, but also placing great emphasis on protecting member privacy, making it inaccessible to the general public.

The range was divided into indoor and outdoor sections. The outdoor area was a vast expanse of green grassland, bathed in golden sunlight that dazzled the eyes.

Zhong Su followed the staff toward the shooting area at the edge of the grassland. From a distance, he spotted Chen Huan standing under the shade of the shooting platform’s canopy.

The man wore protective goggles and noise-canceling earplugs, dressed in a well-tailored dark casual outfit that accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs, creating a tall and straight silhouette. His sun-tanned skin glowed healthily under the sunlight, and a distinctive broken eyebrow on his handsome face added a touch of wildness and unrestrained charm.

The staff member spoke up: “Mr. Chen, your guest—”

Da Xiong, standing nearby, immediately raised his hand to stop her, saying gruffly, “Learn some manners. Can’t you see the sir is aiming at the target? This isn’t the time for you to speak.”

The staff member was a young girl, frightened by Da Xiong’s reprimand. Her lips trembled pitifully for a moment before she fell silent, not daring to make another sound.

Zhong Su could tell at a glance that the situation today was unfavorable. He nodded to the young girl and said, “I’ll be fine here by myself. No need for introductions—you may go.”

His voice wasn’t loud, clear and bright, yet carrying a reassuring quality that put people at ease.

“Alright, thank you,” the girl said gratefully, glancing at him before quickly taking the opportunity to leave.

Under the scorching sun, Zhong Su stood at the edge of the canopy’s shadow. Having walked all the way here, sweat had already beaded on his temples and was trickling down his neck, dampening his collar.

Wiping away the sweat, Zhong Su said helplessly to Chen Huan, “The weather is too hot today. How about we settle the compensation matter early? The sooner we get it done, the sooner everyone can rest easy.”

He waited for Chen Huan’s response.

But Chen Huan didn’t even glance at him. He calmly raised the gun barrel, his shoulders and back forming smooth lines as he focused on aiming at the red bullseye in the distance.

A gust of wind passed, causing the target to sway slightly. Chen Huan pulled the trigger repeatedly, each bullet hitting the bullseye with precision.

Bang, bang, bang—

Deafening gunshots echoed across the open field. Without any protective gear, Zhong Su felt his eardrums throbbing with pain from the noise, his temples pulsating along with it.

Being summoned here only to be ignored, this was clearly Chen Huan deliberately asserting dominance.

Zhong Su restrained himself repeatedly before saying, “If you have no intention of discussing this, perhaps we should postpone the compensation matter. I have other things to attend to today and can’t stand here waiting for you all day.”

“Chen Huan, give me a definite answer? I’m leaving.”

“What’s the hurry?” Chen Huan finally seemed to notice his presence, stopping his shooting.

He removed his protective goggles, his gaze lightly sweeping over Zhong Su’s sun-flushed handsome face before saying calmly, “From the phone call until now, 37 minutes have passed. You’re late.”

Making it from the old town to this remote shooting range in just 37 minutes was already the fastest Zhong Su could manage.

Chen Huan was clearly picking a fight intentionally.

Suppressing his anger, Zhong Su refused to indulge him. Given their history of having shared a bed, while others might cater to Chen Huan’s whims, he knew better than to play along.

This person excelled at pushing boundaries, gradually testing others’ limits to get what he wanted.

“I was late due to traffic – jammed all the way from the old town to the stadium. I’ll make sure to leave earlier next time.” He refused to give Chen Huan any opening, flashing an impeccable smile.

“Since you’ve finished shooting, shall we get to the main point now?”

“We’ll get to what needs to be said eventually.” Chen Huan replied indifferently, lowering his gaze to adjust his cuffs. The string of Bone Beads on his wrist clinked softly with the movement, like plucked strings, particularly eye-catching.

Zhong Su watched this scene with particular discomfort. Though he knew dwelling on it was pointless, seeing his own ashes made into accessories and casually handled by someone else still made him feel unsettled.

The real person stood right before him unrecognized, yet he had made “his” ashes into a bracelet to wear.

He felt no emotion, only the urge to call Chen Huan a psychopath. What kind of twisted thinking would lead someone to commemorate a friend this way?

After adjusting his sleeves, Chen Huan lazily lifted his eyes. “Da Xiong told me you’re someone Su Er helped before. Is that true? Why haven’t I heard Su Er mention you?”

Zhong Su glanced at Da Xiong beside them. Fortunately, he had anticipated Da Xiong would relay this to Chen Huan, so he calmly delivered his prepared response: “It’s not surprising you haven’t heard Xiao Zhong Ge mention me.”

“We were from the same orphanage and have known each other for many years, with complete trust between us. We don’t need to report every detail of our relationship to others.”

Yes, after waking up in this new life, while sorting through the original owner’s belongings, he had discovered this coincidence – they had both grown up in the same orphanage.

Though back then, after he had unexpectedly joined the organization, he never returned to the orphanage, and the original owner had been sent there only after he left, so they never crossed paths.

This subtle connection happened to be perfect for fabricating a link between him and the original owner. After all, no one but him could verify the truth of this claim.

When the young man before him stated “I’ve known Xiao Zhong Ge for many years,” Chen Huan’s fingers resting on the table twitched slightly, his gaze sharp as ice-cold blades scraping across Zhong Su’s face.

Left baking in the sun while enduring grating noise, Zhong Su’s patience was wearing thin. He made no effort to restrain himself, deliberately pushing harder: “My relationship with him was much closer than yours. Actually, you know nothing about him.”

The words were too audacious, making Da Xiong grimace and quickly reach to cover Zhong Su’s mouth. “Watch your tone when speaking to Brother Chen!”

But before he could cover his mouth, Chen Huan’s eyes curved in laughter, revealing shark-like sharp teeth. “True, I certainly don’t know everything about Su Er, but I will uncover it all.”

He took several steps forward, his long legs bringing him right before Zhong Su in an instant.

“Hey! You—!” Before Zhong Su could react, Chen Huan had grabbed his neck and slammed him against the shooting platform holding firearms and ammunition.

His back hit the table surface with a loud “bang,” scattering metal bullets across the floor.

Chen Huan’s free hand pressed down on his head, his fingernails cruelly digging into the barely healed wound, staining his hand with blood.

“You’ve healed quite quickly,” he remarked, his eyes curved like crescent moons, gleaming with an eerie light as he leaned close to Zhong Su’s ear, his voice hoarse and low. “Come, tell me, did you sleep with Su Er? Why is he so different with you, hmm?”

After hearing Da Xiong’s report, Chen Huan had sent someone to investigate this “Zhong Su” who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Just as claimed, this person shared the same background as his Zhong Su—both were orphans abandoned by their parents, and both had been taken in by the same welfare home at different times.

But given Zhong Su’s fiercely independent and aloof nature, he only showed care to those he truly acknowledged. How could he possibly be moved by someone with a similar background, let alone develop feelings for them?

—Unless their relationship was far from ordinary, far beyond that of normal friends.

Zhong Su’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Chen Huan. What kind of nonsense was he asking? If Da Xiong’s wild imagination wasn’t enough, why was Chen Huan joining in the absurdity?

The scorching breath, tinged with the scent of blood, seemed to seep into his ear. Chen Huan’s voice dropped to a menacing whisper, “If there’s no relationship, then it wouldn’t matter if I killed you, right?”

A shiver ran through Zhong Su’s body. The words of rebuttal rose to his lips but were swallowed back. Being mistaken by Chen Huan as “his own lover” might actually be a good thing.

At the very least, this identity could reasonably explain why he knew so many of the habits and private details of the “deceased Zhong Su.” More importantly, it might serve as a plausible reason for him to retrieve the Ashes Bracelet, which belonged to him and was now worn close to Chen Huan’s body.

Pale-faced, the young man pressed his lips together, his eyelashes fluttering as if steeling himself. His voice squeezed out word by word through gritted teeth, “Since you’ve already guessed, there’s no point in hiding it. Xiao Zhong Ge and I… we were lovers.”

“Are you saying Su Er liked men?” Chen Huan’s laughter grew even more cheerful, the curve of his eyes brimming with delight, yet his dark gaze remained unsettlingly shadowed. “You’re lying.”

Zhong Su’s face turned ashen. Of course, he didn’t like men, Chen Huan couldn’t possibly be unaware of that. But he had to press on stubbornly, “Xiao Zhong Ge didn’t like men. We… we were Soulmates. Gender didn’t matter.”

He paused for a moment, the strange silence making it seem to onlookers as if he were lost in memory. “He once said that if he were ever gone, he hoped I could bury him in a quiet cemetery near the forest.”

—To prove the authenticity of a couple’s relationship, one only needed to mention how they got together, the day of their first kiss, and their intimate habits or little quirks.

Under Chen Huan’s increasingly icy gaze, Zhong Su suppressed the shame rising within him and continued fabricating details of non-existent intimacy, even mentioning that the “deceased Zhong Su” had a particularly sensitive palate.

After saying all this, he felt a chill at his own words. Da Xiong, who had been standing nearby, had long since retreated, unable to bear hearing such intimate, fabricated details about someone he had always respected and admired.

The proper Xiao Zhong Ge being described with such warmth by others made him both awkward and uneasy, so he simply stood further away to avoid hearing it.

“Chen Huan, I will come for you, not just because of the car accident, but also to retrieve Xiao Zhong Ge’s ashes.” Zhong Su kept his voice very low, ensuring Da Xiong nearby couldn’t make out the specifics.

He gazed into Chen Huan’s eyes, where hazel pupils shimmered with flecks of gold and green under the light, like a pool of jade: “The Bone Chain on your wrist belongs to Xiao Zhong Ge. You’re merely his friend… You have no right to keep it.”

Zhong Su clearly caught the fleeting ripple in Chen Huan’s eyes, like a stone dropped into a still abyss, malice nearly overflowing to drown him.

“No right—hmm, is that your decree?” Chen Huan chewed the four words slowly and viciously, his palm pressing firmly against Zhong Su’s carotid artery.

His expression remained composed as his fingers tightened bit by bit, watching Zhong Su’s face turn from pale to flushed, blood rushing to his head.

“Cough… I’ve said all I needed to. Let… go!” Zhong Su whimpered in pain, feeling as if he were about to die just like in his previous life.

At the last moment, however, Chen Huan released his grip. The restraint on Zhong Su’s neck vanished abruptly, and he shoved Chen Huan away, staggering back several steps before leaning against the shooting platform, coughing violently.

“Cough, cough.” While warily eyeing Chen Huan, he reached up to touch his throat, unsurprised to feel a rapidly swelling bruise that burned with pain.

He couldn’t understand it: Why did Chen Huan harbor such malice toward this body of his, resorting to violence and choking after just a few words?

Had it been two seconds later, he had no doubt Chen Huan would have truly strangled him into unconsciousness.

Seeing Zhong Su’s guarded posture, Chen Huan didn’t advance further.

He lowered his head, leisurely brushing the blood from his fingertips, as if having pieced together some clue, and let out a soft laugh to the air: “No wonder Su Er reacts so strongly every time I touch him. So it’s not that he has no interest in men—just that his taste is terrible, fancying a pretty face with no substance.”

“He didn’t even tell me, hiding this person so deeply. Was he afraid I’d find out… or afraid I’d destroy him outright?”

Chen Huan’s final words were spoken too softly for Zhong Su to catch.

Da Xiong, who had been pretending to gaze at the sky nearby, abruptly noticed something from the corner of his eye and cleared his throat to warn, “Brother Chen, someone’s coming.”