Part 2
He really has investigated me. Jiang Zhaosheng closed his eyes, his thick eyelashes trembling violently for a few moments.
Shang Yan stood up with satisfaction, slowly straightening his slightly wrinkled shirt, his gaze sweeping over the curled figure on the bed and the sprawling ink-black hair.
“Jiang Zhaosheng,” he suddenly spoke. “Is this name… really yours?”
The figure on the bed remained curled, his long hair a mess. Shang Yan curled his lips; while he felt a sense of pity, he was more interested. Won’t admit it? It doesn’t matter; I have the time and energy to peel away your disguise.
“Get some rest,” Shang Yan said as he walked to the door. With his hand on the handle, he looked back once. “Next Monday morning at nine, a driver will be downstairs to pick you up.”
Jiang Zhaosheng had thought he would never be associated with the word “danger” again for the rest of his life.
How exactly did he end up in the hands of these two? To tell the truth, it was the biggest trap Jiang Zhaosheng had stepped into during his retirement.
He used to be a “mercenary.” For the first twenty years of his life, he lived on the edge of a blade, dwelling in the shadows. He had managed with great difficulty to climb out of that fire pit, wash his hands of it all, clean up his identity, and lead an ordinary life raising his daughter, Jiang Wanâthis was already the best ending one in his profession could hope for.
He thought he had been cautious enough; everything from his past had been thoroughly burned and buried along with his old identity.
It was just an ordinary evening. He had finished a short-term bodyguard job and was preparing to pick up Jiang Wan from school.
To avoid the rush hour traffic, he took a shortcut through a quiet back alley.
Deep in the alley, a few thugs were surrounding a well-dressed young man, pushing and extorting him with an arrogant air. The young man had his back to him, his posture upright, maintaining a strange composure even while at a disadvantage.
Jiang Zhaosheng didn’t want to mind other people’s business; trouble was the last thing he needed.
But the alley entrance was blocked, and the young man seemed to have no intention of resisting. He merely tilted his head slightly, revealing a small portion of his well-defined profile. In that one glance, Jiang Zhaosheng saw the young man clutching a yellowed old photograph. The manâs face in the photo, especially those eyesâ
Lake blue, clear as melting glaciers.
They were almost identical to his own eyes. A sense of foreboding instantly seized him.
He instinctively wanted to retreat, but it was too late.
That young man was Shang Yan. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Shang Yan suddenly turned around. The feigned panic on his face vanished, replaced by a kind of near-ecstatic, twisted confirmation.
“I found you.” Shang Yanâs lips moved silently, his eyes swirling with a mixture of hatred and joy that Jiang Zhaosheng couldn’t understand.
The thugs were clearly actors arranged by Shang Yan. They immediately turned their spearheads, coordinating with the bodyguards Shang Yan had broughtâwho silently closed in from the other end of the alleyâtrapping Jiang Zhaosheng in the middle.
Two fists are no match for four hands, especially when… the opponent came prepared and possessed considerable strength.
Though Jiang Zhaosheng still had his skills, he was wary of exposing his identity and worried that too much noise would attract the police and affect Jiang Wan. Under these constraints, he was quickly subdued and injected with a powerful inhibitor.
When he regained consciousness, he was already in an unfamiliar bedroom filled with the scent of expensive incense. His hands were secured to the headboard with specialized restraints.
Shang Yan sat in an armchair by the bed, legs crossed, holding a photographâthe very one he had been clutching in the alley.
He slowly tapped his finger against the man in the photo who had the same lake-blue eyes. “My father had a special obsession with these eyes. This is a photo of ‘Cold Crow.’ Heâs been looking for him for ten years.”
He looked up, his cold gaze locking onto Jiang Zhaosheng. “What a coincidence, Mr. ‘Cold Crow’? Or should I say, Jiang Zhaosheng?”
Jiang Zhaoshengâs heart sank.
It was impossible for him to know Shang Yan; the man was too young, not a direct relative of any of his targets. His father? Jiang Zhaosheng had carried out too many missions; the names of his targets had long since blurred, and their faces were submerged in his memory.
Jiang Zhaosheng gritted his teeth and said nothing. Admission was a dead endâand it would involve Jiang Wan.
Shang Yan seemed to have anticipated his silence, his lips curling into a cruel smile. Just then, the bedroom door was pushed open, and a sturdily built young man with a wild look in his eyes walked in.
Wearing loose sportswear, his gaze scanned the restrained Jiang Zhaosheng without restraint, lingering for a long time on his disheveled collar from struggling and the marks on his wrists. His eyes sparked with excitement. This was Wen Zheng.
“Brother Yan, heâs awake?” Wen Zhengâs voice had a lazy rasp. He walked to the bedside and looked down at Jiang Zhaosheng as if evaluating a novel object. “Tsk, the real person is even… prettier than the photo. These eyes are even more exaggerated than you said?”
His finger lightly and flirtatiously tapped Jiang Zhaoshengâs brow bone, almost touching those thick lashes.
Jiang Zhaosheng jerked his head away, the restraints cutting deep into his flesh.
Rather than getting angry, Wen Zheng grew even more excited. He looked at Shang Yan:
“We agreed, heâs mine to deal with. You won’t regret it, right?”
Shang Yan gave Wen Zheng a cold look but didn’t object. He only said to Jiang Zhaosheng, “Wen Zheng, my ‘partner.'”
“Itâs fine, heâs clean. Still a virgin, no diseases.”
That sentence was directed at Jiang Zhaosheng.
Jiang Zhaosheng felt his stomach churn. He understood the meaning of the light in Shang Yanâs eyesâit was a twisted inclination. What he enjoyed was not possession, but witnessing others conquer and defile someone else.
Especially when the object was someone like “Cold Crow,” who possessed great strength. He craved to see the process of his claws being pulled out and his pride being broken inch by inch.
The first few days were hell.
Jiang Zhaosheng had tried everything: but without exception, violent resistance resulted in even more humiliating restraint; calm negotiation was shut down by Shang Yan with that photograph; attempting to attack the least guarded Wen Zheng played right into his hands. Wen Zheng almost enjoyed receiving his attacks, every suppression accompanied by the Alphaâs morbid panting.
Shang Yan was like a cold-blooded director, standing aside and appreciating this play called “Taming,” occasionally giving instructions.
Struggling was useless; Shang Yan had already become Jiang Wanâs “good friend”âthis realization made Jiang Zhaoshengâs heart ache. She would only mention her fatherâs name to people she trusted; Shang Yanâs current disguise was flawless.
He couldn’t die, and he certainly couldn’t expose his identity to live as a fugitive. He had to stay alive and remain where Jiang Wan could reach him.
After being suppressed by the two of them yet again, Jiang Zhaosheng was completely drained, his wrists and ankles covered in marks from his struggle. Looking at the familiar excitement ignited by his resistance in Wen Zhengâs eyes, and at Shang Yanâs cold, scrutinizing gaze as if waiting for his next act of defiance, a cold and clear thought overwhelmed all his anger and humiliation: senseless struggling would only exhaust himself and please the enemy, and it would more likely provoke them into acting against Jiang Wan.
Thus, when Shang Yan approached again with that “in control” expression, Jiang Zhaosheng did not dodge.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, in the depths of those lake-blue eyes, there was only a nearly hollow calm.
He deliberately relaxed his tense body, even though every inch of muscle was screaming to resist. He tilted his head slightly, exposing the fragile line of his neckâa posture of near submission.
A flash of surprise crossed Wen Zhengâs eyes, followed by a deeper interest as if he had found a new toy. Shang Yanâs fingertips brushed over Jiang Zhaoshengâs no-longer-tense jawline, his gaze deep and inscrutable. In that moment, Jiang Zhaosheng completed his transition from a “desperate beast” to “dormancy.”
In this fragile moment he had carefully created, where the other party believed he had been “tamed,” he seized one of the few instances where Shang Yanâs emotions were exposed and he was easier to “communicate” with.
“Shang Yan… what exactly do you want from me?”
As expected, Shang Yan was drawn in by this sudden fragility. He stared intently into Jiang Zhaoshengâs seemingly broken lake-blue eyes, his gaze swirling with long-suppressed violence and a desire for control. Jiang Zhaosheng endured a strong sense of nausea and forced himself to meet those eyes.
After a long time, Shang Yan slowly leaned down, his touch “gentle” as he brushed over the old scar on Jiang Zhaoshengâs taut abdomen. His hot breath against Jiang Zhaoshengâs ear was like a venomous snakeâs tongue:
“I want to turn you into someone who is passed around under men…”
The last few words were whispered as Shang Yan bit his ear.
His brain was instantly flooded with a loud buzzing; his vision went dark, and a thick metallic taste rose in his throat.
This time, Jiang Zhaosheng did not let anger swallow his reason. Amidst the extreme pain and rage, calmness took over all his emotions. He knew perfectly well that the other person wanted to see him completely broken.
Jiang Zhaosheng seemed completely crushed by those words, closing his eyes in despair.
However, a few seconds later, he opened them again. In the depths of those lake-blue eyes, all his murderous intent and hatred were locked away by sheer willpower. He looked at Shang Yan, his gaze heart-wrenchingly tender.
This abnormal, soul-stirring glance actually caused the joy-immersion Shang Yan to pause for a moment, his movements coming to a halt. A drop of cold sweat slid from Shang Yanâs chin, dripping into the curve of Jiang Zhaoshengâs neck.
It was in that moment that Jiang Zhaosheng completely confirmed his path.
He would live. He would go to that damn school.
Then, he would find Shang Yanâs most fatal weakness, crush his bones inch by inch, ruin the Alpha’s glands, break every tooth in his mouth, and make him swallow his own filthy blood.
Translator’s Note: Welcome to this wild ride! “Dogblood” (çčĄ – gÇuxiÄ) is a common term in web novels for overly dramatic, clichĂŠ, or “so bad it’s good” tropes. This story definitely leans into the intense ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics. Jiang Zhaoshengâs “Cold Crow” codename is a hint at his lethal past. I hope you enjoy the tension!
Welcome to this new read~! Excited!Â
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