Bai Qiuyan enjoyed a bit of thrill, but he never expected the third-anniversary storyline of Endless Sea to reach this level of intensity.

When he turned around and found no one there, his heart clenched, a surge of panic and worry flooded over him, and it took him a moment to remember this was just a game, not reality. Could something have actually happened to Xie Shuangxue?

Wait, judging by the look on Yu Haiqing’s face, did he not know either? This was industry gossip—did the game department just pull a prank on their own boss?

Soon, it wasn’t just the two of them who looked concerned, because word of Xie Shuangxue’s disappearance started spreading. Quite a few players had sneaked into the inner area by various means, and there were at least a hundred streamers craning their necks to live-stream this event. No one had anticipated this kind of twist.

Not only Bai Qiuyan and those who’d received the quest were shocked, but every player following this development was equally dumbfounded.

“What the hell, this can happen?”

“Where’s my guy! I left my big snow baby right there, and now he’s gone?”

“Did something target Shuangxue again? My poor treasure, always getting the short end of the stick. Dog planner, come here and take a beating!”

But ranting didn’t help; they had to figure out what was going on. Some streamers on the first floor were already reporting news. Replays on the live stream revealed some clues because the window of a private room upstairs had been smashed by a black-clad assassin. At a certain camera angle, you could see through the broken window.

While everyone’s attention was on the sudden assassin, it looked like Xie Shuangxue was yanked backward by some invisible force—and then he just vanished.

Who took him? How was he taken? No one knew.

The forum and streaming sites exploded. The auction storyline had been teased repeatedly, and players from all sides had been building up to this event for a long time. In theory, it should have gone off without a hitch, but no one had foreseen this kind of development.

No wonder there was a question in the Endless Sea betting pool that asked, “Do you think this ambush plan will succeed?” This wasn’t a freebie question—it was a death question!

They’d all been set up by this lousy plot.

As for Xie Shuangxue, the focus of this incident, he was completely caught off guard. When that force struck him from behind, he didn’t even have time to cry out. He felt himself being plunged into darkness, his body began to fall, and his consciousness blurred for a while.

After some time, he started to regain clarity, but his head was still throbbing painfully. Soon he realized his hands and feet were bound to a chair, and a black cloth was covering his eyes, blocking his vision.

He took a few ragged breaths, tried to move, but the space was very confined.

“Stop struggling,” he heard a voice say. It was an unfamiliar male voice. “You won’t be able to get out.”

That was the cold, hard truth. Xie Shuangxue knew the moment he tried moving that his body was weak and sore, struggling was just wasting his energy. After a few attempts, he quickly settled down.

Judging by the breathing sounds, there was more than one person in the room, at least three.

Who were they? And why had they brought him here?

His first thought was that they were Yun Ruowei’s people, who had taken advantage of the chaos to kidnap him. Or perhaps it was a case of the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. He’d used himself as bait to set a trap, and they’d anticipated it, countering with a plan of their own.

But this time was different from the last. They hadn’t drawn a blade on him; they’d searched him but found neither his sword tassel nor his lock. They’d come up empty-handed and just bound him without further harm.

Xie Shuangxue opened his mouth and, after a few coughs, his voice raspy, cautiously asked, “What do you want?”

“I disappeared from the auction; my senior brothers will definitely investigate. The Yun family won’t sit back either. By doing this, you’re inviting trouble for yourselves,” he continued, “If you let me go now, you might still have a chance.”

There was silence on the other side. After a moment, he heard the male voice again, unfazed, “Just stay put and behave yourself.”

They didn’t explain further, as if they only intended to keep him here.

Xie Shuangxue’s mind was full of questions.

Besides, there were many things he still hadn’t figured out.

He heard footsteps and some murmured conversation nearby. The person in front of him seemed ready to leave. Just then, Xie Shuangxue spoke up again.

“Wait.”

“I’ve been to the auction house many times recently, and I’ve checked out that private room countless times without noticing any hidden setup.” He spoke with more composure this time. “It takes more than mere skill to pull this off. I’d even wondered if things had been going too smoothly, but now I see it was all arranged by someone else.”

“Yun Qiang, it’s you, isn’t it?”

Sure enough, the footsteps stopped.

Since he’d come this far, he couldn’t stay here without understanding at least a little of what was going on.

After a moment of consideration, the person in front of him gave up the pretense.

Soon, the black cloth was removed from his eyes, and his vision adjusted slowly before he finally saw the person before him.

It was indeed Yun Qiang.

But he barely recognized her.

Her face was slightly round, her features soft and gentle—a meek, even submissive appearance. She used to exude a firm, slightly distant aura that created an impression of trustworthiness and honesty.

Xie Shuangxue had thought that Yun Qiang’s character was like that, but he never imagined he could be so mistaken.

It was still the same face, but now her lips curled ever so slightly, her hair swept to one side, and a teasing glint sparkled in her eyes.

Yun Qiang’s whole demeanor had changed. There was now an unnameable wickedness and allure about her, like a wild rose in full bloom.

More importantly, she held a knife in her hand—the Crescent Moon Blade, a weapon Xie Shuangxue knew all too well, the one that had nearly sent him back.

She raised the knife, holding it to his chest without pressing further.

“Knowing too much isn’t always a good thing,” she said, her voice now holding a new tone. “Don’t you agree, Shuangxue?”

The sinister energy around her was not just metaphorical; it was tangible. The demonic qi around her intensified, and although Xie Shuangxue had spent plenty of time with her, he’d never detected this overwhelming aura.

Well, if the main character Luo Yin could hide his demonic emperor identity, why couldn’t others?

“How did you guess?” Yun Qiang asked him, then reconsidered, rephrasing her question, “No, I should ask when you guessed.”

Xie Shuangxue sighed, “Just now.”

He realized it too late.

There had been plenty of hints, but he hadn’t pursued them.

For instance, on the night he was attacked, the assassin came and went too quickly, which suggested the attacker was intimately familiar with the City Lord’s Mansion. Also, Yun Qiang had been the one who brought him to the auction house and kept him focused there, never questioning his motives.

While he had been carefully checking out the auction venue, she often excused herself with “other business,” leaving him ample time to set his trap.

And there was more—he should have realized it in that private room. The auction’s security should have been stringent, but only players rushed out when trouble broke loose, which was highly suspicious.

And his trouble-prone private room was arranged by Yun Qiang herself. There was no question that she was deeply connected to the whole affair.

Even her background didn’t quite add up. If Yun Qiang were as naive and trusting as she appeared, lacking family support, how could she swiftly revive these Yun family businesses that everyone else had given up on? Who backed her?

Piece by piece, Xie Shuangxue quickly understood where the problem lay.

“But tying me up is pointless,” Xie Shuangxue sighed. “I’m just an ordinary person; I can’t bring you anything valuable.”

He tilted his head, looking at her with feigned innocence.

But Yun Qiang knew better.

She’d seen Xie Shuangxue pull this trick on many others. His two senior brothers in the Feather Clan, along with those wanderers, fell for this approach. She had to admit, she’d been affected too. After all, who could resist when such a beautiful, gentle soul looked at them like that?

But her response was clear-headed: “You don’t need to pretend with me. I know very well what kind of person you really are.”

How was Xie Shuangxue ordinary?

Ever since he arrived at Lu Yun Tower, his investigation had progressed faster than any Feather Clan member’s. He was already probing into areas they hadn’t dared to touch. If he kept going, he would disrupt their entire plan.

Even tonight at the auction, Yun Qiang hadn’t gained much besides taking him away.

She’d baited him with medicinal materials with no intention of actually giving them to him. She hadn’t anticipated so many players would be present, including some disguised as auction staff, who managed to intercept the goods, catching Yun Qiang’s people off guard.

The quest items ended up in players’ hands, and since items didn’t drop upon death, players like Qiao Zhihui could simply respawn, securing the advantage the game granted them.

Yun Qiang moved her blade closer, lifting Xie Shuangxue’s chin, their eyes meeting as she chuckled, “I should have ended you right away, but after some thought, I figured letting you live was better.”

“All those useless Yun family scoundrels are still alive, so you’re far better by comparison. Yun Mu should thank you; if it weren’t for you, his injury might have been far worse than a mere arrow wound that day.”

“Call me ‘sister’ once, and I might be a bit kinder to you.”

But Xie Shuangxue’s reaction surprised her.

He showed no fear of the blade, tilting his head. This time, he didn’t resort to his usual charms. Yun Qiang waited for him to call her “sister,” but he simply looked slightly downcast.

She frowned, but before she could do anything, someone came in from outside, their face tense, whispering something to her urgently.

Xie Shuangxue couldn’t hear, but he guessed it was about trouble at the auction.

After all, he’d disappeared from there. Ling Luo and Chen Xin wouldn’t ignore it, and the Yun family would definitely investigate. While Yun Qiang hadn’t been exposed yet, she still had her responsibilities at the auction and plenty to handle outside.

“Watch him closely,” Yun Qiang ordered the guards as she left. She added with a frown, “Do not harm him, and don’t talk to him unnecessarily.”

The guards nodded.

Meanwhile, now that Xie Shuangxue knew exactly who had taken him, he relaxed significantly, quickly assessing his situation.

Yun Qiang’s threats didn’t faze him. After all, this was just a game; Xie Shuangxue had only hit a minor setback. The system’s purpose was to get him back in action, not to end him—he still had plenty of storylines left. He wasn’t going to die.

Yun Qiang’s behavior also showed her stance. She knew he was no simple person, but her mercy toward him had shifted.

He’d stumbled with Yun Qiang once, but he would stand back up.

His interactions with Yun Qiang hadn’t been entirely in vain. His tricks and charms had always been a deliberate act, but Yun Qiang wouldn’t fall for it again, so there was no point in trying to win her over that way anymore.

If he couldn’t use that approach, it wasn’t as if he had no other options.

Xie Shuangxue still felt weak, and someone offered him something to eat, which made him drowsy, likely some kind of drug.

This wouldn’t do.

He soon called the guards over.

“I need some water.”

At first, the guards ignored him, probably wary of any tricks. But because of Yun Qiang’s orders, they didn’t dare treat him too poorly. After a few calls, one guard finally brought a cup over.

Xie Shuangxue appeared obedient, drinking a few sips before suddenly choking, coughing violently, his face going pale.

The guard panicked, leaning in to check. Distracted, he didn’t notice when Xie Shuangxue jerked forward, colliding with him and sending the cup crashing to the ground, shattering into pieces.

With surprising strength, Xie Shuangxue toppled over in his chair, crashing to the floor.

They were in a room, not a cell, and it wasn’t meant to restrain prisoners. But the guards quickly rushed over, lifting him back up.

Though he’d fallen over, Xie Shuangxue was still securely bound and hadn’t escaped. But one guard with sharp eyes noticed his real intent—he’d snatched a shard of broken porcelain, now clutched tightly in his hand.

“Hand that over!”

But Xie Shuangxue gripped it tightly, and the shard’s edge cut into his hand. Though they managed to wrest it from him, his palm was now marked with several bloody gashes, staining the shard with blood.

“My hand…” Xie Shuangxue’s voice was faint and slurred, “It hurts. I… I have old injuries. It hurts…”

The guards panicked.

One of them examined his injuries and noticed not only the fresh cuts on his palm but also whip scars peeking out from under his sleeve and old marks from Yun Qiang’s past attacks, all of which hadn’t fully healed, leaving a startling sight.

Yun Qiang had ordered that nothing could happen to Xie Shuangxue, and they hadn’t even decided what to do before this situation had taken a turn. His visible pain confirmed that his injuries were real.

“Quick, get Miss Yun!”

By the time Yun Qiang arrived, expression icy, Xie Shuangxue was no longer tied to the chair.

Following her instructions, he was now lying on a bed in the room, his uninjured hand chained to the bed with a cold iron shackle, with double the guards stationed outside.

Yun Qiang sat by the bed, seeing Xie Shuangxue staring straight at her. He’d been given a drug meant to induce drowsiness, but due to the Xie family’s unique constitution, it only dulled his awareness slightly.

Before Yun Qiang could question him, Xie Shuangxue raised a hand, as if wanting to touch her.

“You’re hurt,” he said softly. “What happened? Does it hurt?”

Yun Qiang paused, noticing the red marks extending from her cheek to her neck, a result of Yun Pannan’s frustration with the Feather Clan, which he’d taken out on her.

Yun Qiang hadn’t reached the point where she could reveal herself and had endured these years of hardship; she wasn’t about to give up now.

But as Xie Shuangxue spoke, she realized it did indeed hurt.

“Don’t worry about me,” Yun Qiang said, her tone stiff. “What’s going on with you?”

She pulled down the collar of Xie Shuangxue’s shirt, revealing the whip scars, still visible and far from healed.

This man was a master deceiver, so Yun Qiang had approached this report with caution, cross-checking with the Feather Clan’s Ling Luo and Chen Xin.

They hadn’t specified the cause of the scars, but it was confirmed that Xie Shuangxue had them, was taking daily medicine for his injuries, and had barely recovered from the recent assassination attempt. No one knew this better than Yun Qiang.

His body was indeed riddled with wounds.

And yet the Feather Clan had him infiltrate the City Lord’s Mansion, come to this dangerous auction venue, and carry out such risky tasks?

When she’d first met Xie Shuangxue, he’d seemed to be held in the palm of the Feather Clan’s hand, and the Yun family members dared not offend him. He appeared to be from another world, completely removed from her experiences. But now, she saw things differently.

It turned out that even that version of Xie Shuangxue had been a facade.

“If the Xie family is gone, what does it matter if I suffer a little?” Xie Shuangxue smiled bitterly. “When I saw them bullying you back then, I helped not just because I wanted to go to the auction but also because… I thought of myself. Sister, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to protect you if other Yun family members gave you trouble. I thought we were the same, but you’re stronger than I am.”

“It was wrong of me to deceive you before. If it weren’t for life’s hardships, why would I put in so much effort? If I’d stayed the Xie family’s young master, life would have been easy, but…”

“Just tell me one thing, Sister. You didn’t have anything to do with what happened in Penglai City, did you?”

His voice trembled at the end.

Mentioning Penglai City seemed to strike a nerve in Yun Qiang, her expression complicated as she sighed after a long silence, “No, we didn’t.”

“Thank goodness,” Xie Shuangxue seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I believe you, Sister. I never wanted to be your enemy.”

“If you weren’t the one who harmed the Xie family, don’t worry. I won’t run. I just don’t like being tied up; it hurts, and I’m really afraid.”

His voice trailed off as the drug seemed to take full effect.

Yun Qiang sighed, finally saying, “Alright, I won’t tie you up.”

With him tethered in this way, he couldn’t escape anyway. She added more guards outside just in case, as she had tested Xie Shuangxue’s skills firsthand. Watching him fall into a deep sleep, she hesitated, then reached out to gently smooth his hair, like a comforting gesture.

A pitiful soul.

But Xie Shuangxue wasn’t truly asleep.

Yun Qiang had also been acting, but one thing she’d said was genuine—her commitment to repay kindness.

It was obvious that Yun Qiang was connected to Yun Ruowei, and she had likely done all this for Yun Ruowei. After searching for her for so long, Xie Shuangxue saw being captured by her as a chance, not a setback.

He had no intention of leaving.

While players knew nothing of this scene, Yu Haiqing was an exception. Worried about Xie Shuangxue’s safety after his disappearance, he couldn’t help but log into the backend to locate him.

This part of the storyline was completely unknown to him.

Yu Haiqing had read the script, but he’d focused only on Xie Shuangxue’s sections, avoiding spoilers for himself, especially Yun Ruowei’s hidden storylines, which were designed as high-freedom content meant for players to explore on their own, providing only clues, no script.

Even Lin Tong, the planning team leader who was very familiar with the storylines, knew Yun Qiang was putting on an act, but this auction plot was brand new, leaving her unsure of what might happen.

And so, Yu Haiqing, worried, witnessed the scene.

Listening for a moment, he realized Yun Qiang had only pulled off one of Xie Shuangxue’s layers. Beneath that, there were still more. She was already struggling to cope.

Xie Shuangxue, even in captivity, was still captivating.

Thankfully, he wasn’t seriously hurt, which slightly relieved Yu Haiqing’s worries. Yet seeing the injuries on his hand, he couldn’t help but feel a pang.

Yun Qiang’s lies held some truth, and so did Xie Shuangxue’s. If it weren’t for all the hardships and accidents, would he have been this calculating?

This time, Yu Haiqing’s oversight had left him unsupervised.