Luo Yao was like a child lost in darkness for too long, finally finding someone to lean on.
Lin Ran looked at the young Luo Yao with aching heart, holding her tightly in his arms, feeling her tremble as guilt flooded his chest.
"Remember your words. If you dare lie to me in the future, I’ll burn you to ashes."
Luo Yao whispered against Lin Ran’s chest, her voice carrying a faint threat but laced far more heavily with dependence on him.
As her words faded, Lin Ran slowly began to vanish again. His hand clasped Luo Yao’s, and a slip of paper materialized in her palm.
On it was his promise to her—a testament transcending time, an invisible thread binding their hearts together.
"This is my vow to you. Keep it safe..."
Just as Lin Ran was about to disappear completely, Luo Yao suddenly asked in a rush,
"Do you love me?"
Lin Ran: "I do. Remember, one day... I will love you..."
"With all my life..."
When Lin Ran opened his eyes again, he was back at the manor.
The estate was serene, sunlight streaming through the windows and painting patches of gold across the floor.
"At least Luo Yao didn’t grow up carrying this loneliness and despair."
Lin Ran was grateful for the extra minute Little Black had granted him—it had been crucial.
Speaking of which, where was Little Black?
Just as Lin Ran was about to look for him, urgent knocking rattled the door.
"Young Master Lin, are you there?" Uncle Fu’s voice came through, tinged with anxiety.
"Come in," Lin Ran called, his voice still weak. Fresh from the time tunnel, his body and mind hadn’t fully recovered.
Still, it was a far better state than the last time he’d returned.
Uncle Fu hurried into the bedroom, and the moment he saw Lin Ran, he exhaled sharply in relief, the tension visibly draining from his face.
Luo Yao had called earlier, saying Lin Ran’s signal had vanished, and Uncle Fu had nearly panicked.
He knew how vital Lin Ran was to Luo Yao—and that if anything happened to him, the entire manor would descend into chaos.
The thought of Lin Ran suddenly disappearing terrified him; his very purpose was to protect Lin Ran and Luo Yao.
Meanwhile, Luo Yao, who was rushing back to the manor, noticed the signal on her phone flicker back to life.
Her heart, wound tight as a drawn bowstring, eased slightly, and she immediately dialed Lin Ran’s number.
"Yao Yao?" Lin Ran answered.
"Ah Ran, where are you?" Luo Yao’s voice trembled with the aftershocks of fear.
"I’m home."
A pause. Then, her voice returned, firm yet urgent: "Wait for me there. Don’t leave the manor—no, don’t even step outside the villa."
Her tone brooked no argument. All she wanted was Lin Ran’s safety.
"Alright."
Lin Ran agreed, knowing her worry. He had no intention of causing her more distress.
Hanging up, he stayed put, sitting on the edge of the bed as a storm of emotions churned inside him.
Useless. That’s what he was, always making Luo Yao worry. The least he could do was avoid being a burden.
"Ugh. Can’t this worthless guy at least rage for once?"
Silently, he vowed to grow stronger—to protect Luo Yao properly.
Outside the manor, a dozen figures lurked in the shadows near the flower beds.
Clad in gray, they blended into the surroundings like specters haunting the night.
"Boss, this place isn’t easy to breach. What’s the plan?" one whispered, unease flickering in his eyes.
"The guards at the gate are pros, and they’re armed," another added, well aware of the mission’s risks.
The leader, cold and composed, spoke softly.
"Wait. Once we get word from Master, we move."
His gaze was icy, brimming with confidence.
"But what if Master fails? Do we really obey that man?"
"Impossible. Master isn’t just our teacher—he’s that traitor’s teacher too. How could a disciple defeat his master?"
Just then, something round rolled toward them with a faint, ominous clatter.
The group tensed, muscles coiling like startled predators.
Their eyes locked onto the object—and their breath hitched.
"Your master... is no longer a factor."
Luo Yao’s voice cut through the night as she stepped from the darkness, flanked by a squad wielding "physical enlightenment tools."
Her frosty glare radiated a terrifying authority.
The men gaped at her and her entourage, shock and dread twisting their faces.
"Luo Yao! You heartless witch! You’d even kill your own mentor?" one spat, trying to rattle her.
"Spare me the theatrics."
Her reply was glacial, utterly unmoved.
"Remember—take them alive."
Her command sliced through the air, absolute.
As Luo Yao strode into the manor, her team swiftly subdued the intruders.
Under the persuasive threat of "BBQ diplomacy," resistance was futile. In a straight fight, they might’ve stood a chance, but against 7.62mm persuasion? No carbon-based life form stood a prayer.
Like lambs to slaughter, they were disarmed and restrained.
Wang Bao and Little Tong exchanged glances before barking orders:
"Search them for poison. Confiscate their weapons."
In moments, the men were stripped of their gear, reduced to helpless captives awaiting judgment.
Back in the villa, Luo Yao finally relaxed upon seeing Lin Ran.
But the moment her nerves unwound, a wave of dizziness crashed over her.
"Ah Ran, I—"
Before she could finish, her legs gave way, and she collapsed.
Lin Ran lunged forward, catching her. His pulse spiked as panic seized him.
Then he saw it—blood seeping through her clothes, staining the fabric crimson.
Who could’ve possibly hurt Luo Yao?