1: Inheritance

On April 2, 2025, in Budapest.

A luxury cruise ship worth 7.6 billion RMB, belonging to the Royal Caribbean Company, sailed quietly in the center of the Danube River. No one knew how this group of international criminals had infiltrated, and no one knew who fired the first shot.

Bullets pierced the man’s forehead, and his eyes widened without a sound as he fell stiffly to the ground. The deer decoration hanging on the wall had its head severed, and the hall was splattered with bloodstains. The cruise ship instantly turned into a chorus of screams, and everything was covered in the smell of hell. Shadows loomed, and death enveloped everyone.

The police completely surrounded the cruise ship, and helicopters made an emergency landing, their roars penetrating everyone’s eardrums. The sounds of gunfire, crying, and screaming never ceased. After bullets pierced explosive materials, the cruise ship erupted in flames and rapidly sank.

“Xie Hou!” At this moment, a slender figure staggered out of the casino. There were bloodstains on his face, and he looked like cold porcelain covered in blood.

The beauty that was as alluring as a Garden of Eden snake had crumbled.

“Xie Hou…” Shen Cizhu’s knees gave way.

“Your brother,” he grabbed Xie Hou’s suit and tie, “I can’t find your brother… Is he dead? But I can’t find his body…”

“This place is collapsing,” Xie Hou put a smoke mask on him.

“Your brother—” Shen Cizhu shook his head.

Crash!

A crystal chandelier abruptly fell from above!

Before Shen Cizhu could react, Xie Hou had one-handedly carried him out of the casino, and glass shards pierced Xie Hou’s back like sharp knives.

The casino was right next to the cruise ship’s observation deck, and a helicopter had been waiting, its ropes already lowered, just waiting for Xie Hou and Shen Cizhu to climb up.

As Xie Hou carried Shen Cizhu with one arm, Shen Cizhu’s eyes were fixed on the receding casino.

“We can’t leave!” he shouted hoarsely. “Save him—save your brother, Xie Hou, please save him!”

“He’s already dead. I just saw his body,” Xie Hou said calmly.

“Impossible… Let me see him!” Shen Cizhu tried to turn back. “Xie Hou, you can’t leave him behind.”

“Ge ge’s head shattered, it was terrifying.” Xie Hou covered his eyes. As the harness lifted both of them into the helicopter, he whispered, “Don’t look.”

“Shen Cizhu, I’m taking you home,” Xie Hou lowered his gaze, staring at the remnants of the cruise ship, 678 meters above the ground.

There was no one there, only bloodstains remained.

He clearly hadn’t seen Xie Yan’s body, but he told Shen Cizhu that Xie Yan was dead.

With a loud crash, the cruise ship sank completely into the Danube River.

When Xie Hou safely secured Shen Cizhu in the helicopter, Shen Cizhu had already lost consciousness.

He touched Shen Cizhu’s injured wrist with neither sadness nor joy. “Goodnight.”

And—

Happy Death Day, ge ge.

Two days later, in the capital, at the Shen Private Hospital.

The rain at the end of spring fell steadily, fine and weak. It was dense and complex, enough to cover the pale sky with a dark hue.

The raindrops slowed down, gripping the glass window outside the ward. The warmth inside melted them into a mist, turning them into a hazy, torn ghostly face.

Shen Cizhu woke up, lying on his side in the hospital bed, staring blankly out the window.

The color of the bed surface couldn’t compare to his porcelain-white skin. He was too pale, and even his lips were pale. His once proud and alluring features had become fragile.

Xie Yan was dead.

His former lover, his personal bodyguard for ten years, had died.

They had both died to save him, consumed by the flames, without a complete body.

Tick-tock.

Raindrops fell on the wind chimes outside the window, creating a cold sound.

Shen Cizhu’s eyes widened slightly, his cheeks damp with tears. The corners of his snake-like eyes were tinged with a faint blush, and the tears rolled down. His vision was partly obscured, his eyes distant and lifeless. His chin tilted slightly as he watched the “ghostly face” pressed against the window. The water droplets made the “ghostly face” elongate, turning the once somewhat terrifying face into something comical.

Shen Cizhu chuckled softly, amusing himself. He got out of bed, still recovering from his injuries, and even walking was shaky.

—Plunk.

Shen Cizhu’s delicate fingertips gently tapped the glass, his lips fascinated and playful as they covered the forehead of the “ghostly face” about to dissipate with the rain. His eyelashes were thick and long, and when he looked down, they veiled his green and enticing eyes.

His lips touched the glass, and he kneeled halfway on the tiled floor, almost as if in devotion. He was gently kissing this “ghostly face.”

Unusually deranged, he looked sickly enigmatic and extremely beautiful.

His lips were slightly parted, and even his kisses held a hint of ambiguity. Through the rain-drenched glass, he saw someone standing silently not far below the hospital room, right beneath this position.

This person was tall and slender, with an elegant posture.

Shen Cizhu thought it was Xie Yan.

But as the umbrella raised, it revealed Xie Hou’s phoenix eyes hidden behind golden-rimmed glasses.

With black hair and fair skin, he was tall and slender, with sharp cheekbone curves. Even the curve of his nose bridge was ruthless. His suit exuded the dignified aura of someone in a higher position.

Xie Yan, Xie Hou’s brother, was dead, but Xie Hou didn’t show any sadness. He was too indifferent, as if he wasn’t interested in anything at all.

The Xie Hou who had risked his life without any restraint to save Shen Cizhu that night on the Danube River seemed like an illusion.

That seemed like it wasn’t Xie Hou at all.

Shen Cizhu said something softly, but it wasn’t clear.

He seemed to speak to himself and repeated, “Why didn’t you save him?”

“You killed…”

“Xie Hou, you killed…”

This murmuring was drowned out by the roaring rain outside the window.

Suddenly, the oleander branches outside the window were bent by the rain, their heads seemingly chopped off, their bodies lifeless. The deep pink, venomous petals scattered lightly outside the window, disrupting Shen Cizhu’s attempt to see Xie Hou downstairs.

A little while later, Shen Cizhu’s secretary entered the ward after completing the discharge procedures for him. She politely asked Shen Cizhu if he wanted to attend Mr. Xie Yan’s funeral at nine o’clock tonight.

“Mr. Xie has known you for eleven years, including four years as lovers. Now that he has passed away, you must be very upset,” the secretary frowned slightly at the corners of her eyebrows and said, “If you go, it might be emotionally overwhelming…”

Shen Cizhu sat on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his hospital gown.

The secretary understood, and she had someone send Shen Cizhu the formal attire he would wear to the funeral tonight.

“He died to save me,” Shen Cizhu lowered his eyes, his fingertips trembling slightly, as if feeling guilty and experiencing other emotions. “I wasn’t good to him when he was alive, and now that he’s dead, I have to apologize to him.”

Shen Cizhu was fifteen years old when Xie Yan became his bodyguard, faithfully protecting him for a whole eleven years.

But Shen Cizhu hadn’t treated him well.

Yet, now that he was dead, Shen Cizhu attended the funeral in person.

The funeral was a bustling affair with people coming and going, full of elegant clothes, beauty, and clinking wine glasses. It was a funeral organized by Xie Hou, the head of the Xie family, the new financial empire replacing the Shen family. When the upper-class circle received the invitations, no one dared not to attend. They felt honored and glorious to be there.

The Xie family had replaced the Shen family as the top financial empire, and Xie Hou was a self-made man. He had climbed to the top of the power pyramid, starting as the poorest commoner. He was an ambitious and cold-hearted young genius, only nineteen years old this year.

But his brother was quite ordinary. If it weren’t for the fact that his brother was Xie Hou, they wouldn’t have bothered to attend this funeral. They didn’t even know how Xie Hou’s brother, Xie Yan, died and when he died.

But it didn’t matter; they didn’t care.

But it seemed someone did care.

What surprised them was that Shen Cizhu had actually arrived halfway through the funeral.

They heard that Shen Cizhu had once had a romantic relationship with a commoner named Xie Yan, which was a strange occurrence in the upper-class circle.

Was he here to pay tribute to his former lover?

All eyes turned toward the cemetery gate.

As the Maybach came to a stop, the gate was pushed open by the attendants.

Shen Cizhu was surrounded by a group of dignitaries who knew him as he entered the cemetery. The dark sky was still pouring rain. He was extremely elegant in his suit and leather shoes. His jet-black long hair was swept to one side of his neck, creating a contrasting sensation with his slim snow-white figure.

In one hand, he held a bouquet of pure white irises, and in the other, he supported a long-handled black umbrella. This leader of the paper-drunk and money-soaked upper-class circle remained aloof, beautiful, arrogant, and disdainful tonight.

However, upon closer inspection, his eyes had a subtle glimmer, and the corners of his eyes were slightly red. His shoes lightly stepped on the cobblestone path. He passed by a flowering tree, where the treetop was covered with shattered and drifting white blossoms from the rain.

Xie Hou stood at the end of the stone path.

Shen Cizhu raised the umbrella slightly, revealing a pair of snake-like eyes that Xie Hou remembered well. His emerald green eyes were like bewitching jewels, with an upward tilt at the corners, which exuded arrogance.

But now, it seemed like he had been crying, and his highly provocative beauty had become fragile. The sparse strands of hair at the corner of his eyes had turned red from crying.

Shen Cizhu stood beneath the flowering tree, and a white flower fell on his jet-black hair, blown away by the wind.

He looked like a young widow who had lost her husband.

Xie Hou raised his hand and removed the white flower from his hair.

“Condolences,” Xie Hou said softly.

“Thank you,” Shen Cizhu replied in a hoarse voice.

Shen Cizhu averted his gaze. Amid the crowd of dignitaries, he acted as if he didn’t know his former lover, and his former lover’s brother.

But he clearly knew Xie Hou, and not just from two days ago when Xie Hou had risked his life to save him on the cruise ship. They had known each other a year ago.

Shen Cizhu had even had a reckless night with him a year ago.

That recklessness had even been witnessed by Xie Yan.

Shen Cizhu passed by Xie Hou, placing the irises in front of Xie Yan’s grave. They hadn’t found the body, so even the tombstone was just a cenotaph.

Shen Cizhu lowered his gaze, and his fingertips moved slightly.

Even in the upper-class circle, where even funerals had to adhere to rules, crying had to be subdued, mourning had to be solemn, and attire had to be perfectly appropriate, without a hint of error.

Although not many people at the funeral genuinely mourned for Xie Yan.

The tears of gentlemen and ladies were filled with hypocrisy, not as sincere as the gentle rain’s sorrow.

After the funeral, the crowd dispersed, leaving the cemetery cold and desolate.

Ravens croaked hoarsely under the moonlight.

Shen Cizhu had not left yet, and in the private cemetery of the Xie family, there were only him and Xie Hou.

Xie Hou stood behind Shen Cizhu, holding an umbrella and blocking it in front of him.

Shen Cizhu had been an heir to an aristocratic family since childhood, raised with jewels and gold. He shouldn’t have kneeled.

However, in the absence of anyone else, he unexpectedly knelt in front of Xie Yan’s tombstone. Facing Xie Yan’s image, he offered three respectful bows with the bearing of a young nobleman.

It seemed like an act of guilt, an apology, and grief.

Xie Hou’s expression remained calm as he looked down at Shen Cizhu, the “widow” who was seven years older than him, now more mature and exuding an indescribable androgynous charm.

From the tip of his jet-black hair to his slender, snow knife-like waist, to the deep red soles of his spotless shoes.

A rare desire flickered in Xie Hou’s eyes. He gently bent down, his body enveloping Shen Cizhu.

Shen Cizhu’s body trembled slightly as Xie Hou pinched his chin, forcing him to look up. “Your brother is dead. What will you do now?”

Shen Cizhu’s chin was fine and smooth, with a delightful texture.

Xie Hou’s fingertips slowly slid to Shen Cizhu’s earlobe.

Shen Cizhu suddenly raised his eyes, with a warning and disgust in his gaze.

“Your brother is dead, and you feel guilty. Guilty that he died to save you, guilty that his body couldn’t be found, guilty for your various wrongdoings toward him over the past eleven years. Are you repenting?” Xie Hou’s lips had an icy, almost heartless tone.

But the words were searing and verged on impropriety.

“In that case,” Xie Hou, wearing his cold and pure appearance, whispered like an adulterer, “let me replace your brother, inherit your guilt, your repentance, your… love?”

“F*ck your love, are you even worthy?” Shen Cizhu’s tongue lightly touched his teeth, and he raised the corners of his eyes in a near mocking manner.

Just as he was about to humiliate Xie Hou with words, Xie Hou walked up to Shen Cizhu.

Behind him was his brother’s tombstone, and his brother’s handsome and gentle face on the memorial image, as if he were still gazing at Shen Cizhu with love, just as he always did.

Xie Hou blocked Xie Yan from Shen Cizhu’s view, and Shen Cizhu could no longer see Xie Yan.

He could only see Xie Hou.

“Are you still embarrassed about that night?” Xie Hou knelt on one knee, his phoenix eyes locked onto Shen Cizhu.

Surprisingly, Shen Cizhu showed signs of submission for a moment.

In this brief lapse of distraction, Xie Hou lowered his neck and sealed Shen Cizhu’s lips with his own.

Shen Cizhu couldn’t resist in time. His wrist was tightly held by Xie Hou. This kiss was not meant to be superficial. It was passionate and fiery, overwhelming his senses. Shen Cizhu was completely subdued.

Xie Hou’s kiss was intense, leaving Shen Cizhu’s lips bitten and bruised. It felt like he had planned this for a long time, marking his possession.

Shen Cizhu stared at Xie Hou’s eyes.

Have you ever seen the eyes of a wild animal?

These eyes were cold, like those of a survivor who had lived through countless battles in the wilderness, ruthless, and victorious.

A winner had to possess the genes of a natural-born villain, a heart that could be cruel and merciless, and a never-ending desire for dominance.

After this kiss, Shen Cizhu was left breathless, his eyes watery as he gazed at Xie Hou.

His heart pounded as he remembered the night he spent with Xie Hou, the scandal when Xie Yan caught them, and Xie Yan’s disappearance without a trace.

He shouldn’t have met Xie Hou.

Did you kill Xie Yan?

Xie Hou.

Did you kill your brother?

“Xie Hou, if you want to love me, you must grovel before me like a dog forever,” Shen Cizhu pinched Xie Hou’s chin, forcing the proud scion to bow before him.

“It’s my honor,” Xie Hou slowly raised his eyes, his icy gaze filled with a hint of a satisfied smile.

TN:

Disclaimer: I am an MTLer. This means I won’t be able to give 100% accurate output as intended by the author. As I am editing machine translations, they might end up sounding robotic and awkward at times. There will also be mistakes that I might miss while editing so if you come across them, kindly notify me in the comments. Enjoy the story and feedback is always appreciated. It’s a short one and the protagonists aren’t the best of people. I had a couple of WTF moments while reading haha. It’s pretty different from the fluff I’m used to but I quite liked it. And the characters with all their flaws seemed more “human” to me.

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