The Real and Fake Second Child

“Oh, exposed on the spot, hehehe, this kid finally can’t keep up the act anymore.”

An Changqing had achieved his goal. He knew when to stop, letting out a sigh.

“In that case, since we can’t just sit around waiting for the professionals to arrive, we shouldn’t just twiddle our thumbs.”

“Let’s split up and investigate that assassin named Su Qing. Maybe we can find clues about the mastermind behind this, and also clear our own names.”

The proposal was perfectly reasonable, and Liu Chengjun couldn’t find any grounds to refuse.

“Fine.”

He spat out two cold words.

“Steward, give them access. Let them investigate.”

……

Inside Su Qing’s apartment.

Chen Guan stood alone in the center of this carefully decorated den of comfort.

The lingering perfume in the air mixed with the murderous intent from that night, creating an eerie atmosphere.

“My contractor, why are you here?”

Baal asked curiously: “I’ve already memorized the scent of that woman for you, she can’t get away.”

“I’m here to confirm something.”

Chen Guan replied in his mind.

He closed his eyes, sensing the lingering odors in the room.

“Besides that woman’s scent, there’s another one here, very faint, belonging to someone else.”

Baal chuckled: “Of course there is. A textbook frame-up, how could I not smell it.”

“It’s the exact same scent as that second son’s, right… over there.”

Following Baal’s guidance, Chen Guan walked over to the sofa and bent down.

In a hidden crevice, he pulled out an item with two fingers.

It was an exquisite platinum cufflink, shining with a cold gleam under the light.

In the center of the cufflink was carved an intricate Liu family crest.

In the lower right corner of the crest, there was also a small stylized “Xiao” character.

This was Liu Xiao’s personal cufflink.

Its appearance here made the intention perfectly clear.

What difference was there between this and just leaving Liu Xiao’s ID card here?

Just then, his phone rang. It was a message from An Changqing.

[Something’s happened.]

Chen Guan put away the cufflink, looked at the message, and frowned.

How could something happen right after he left?

……

When he arrived at the main residence, the sight before him made him stop in his tracks.

The entire estate was brightly lit, with a deadly atmosphere hanging in the air.

Dozens of elite superpowered soldiers in black tactical gear had already surrounded the main residence in a tight circle.

They held weapons that could suppress abilities, their auras steady, their eyes cold—they were the Liu family’s true private army.

Liu Chengjun stood at the front of the formation, the mask of pretense completely torn away, replaced by pure frost.

An Changqing, Long Ao, and Hong Yuan were stopped outside the encirclement, all with grim expressions.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

Liu Chengjun didn’t even look at Long Ao. He only announced coldly:

“Our father was attacked, and the assassin might still be hiding on the estate, or there might be an inside accomplice.”

“For the sake of our father’s safety, the estate is now under full lockdown. No one leaves, only entry is allowed.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping past An Changqing, finally landing on Chen Guan who had just arrived.

“Until the real culprit is found, I ask that everyone cooperate with our investigation.”

Hong Yuan’s eyes went wide.

“You’re treating us like prisoners?!”

Liu Chengjun didn’t answer, which was as good as a confirmation.

An Changqing reached out and stopped Long Ao, who was about to explode, gently shaking his head.

He knew that making a move now would completely fall into the other’s trap.

They had gone from guests and protectors to suspects trapped in a cage.

Liu Chengjun wouldn’t do anything to them, but he also wouldn’t let them leave. As the wealthiest family in the land, even his own father couldn’t overrule this show of force.

……

Late at night.

The four of them, “invited” back to their guest rooms, sat in a gloomy silence.

Chen Guan used the excuse of needing quiet time alone in his room, not joining the small meeting.

He used the token to contact White Tiger.

“Is Nandou connected to the Demon God?”

White Tiger said frankly: “No connection. Don’t overthink it.”

Unrelated.

After receiving that answer, Chen Guan’s frown deepened.

Then whose scent did Baal detect on Su Qing—who was the real mastermind?

Liu Chengjun? Or Liu Xiao?

Just then.

“Click.”

A faint mechanical sound.

On the wall in front of Chen Guan, a ventilation grate, about the size of a palm and blending in with the wall’s color, opened a crack outward.

A neatly folded note fell out of the gap.

Chen Guan reached out and caught it.

He unfolded the paper, and in the dim light, made out twisted handwriting written in blood:

[Save me! He’s not Liu Xiao!]

Chen Guan held the note. Without hesitation, he turned and left the room, knocking on An Changqing’s door.

A few minutes later, the four reassembled in An Changqing’s room, with the blood-written note laid flat in the center of the table.

This was a private residence, with no surveillance cameras—at least none in plain sight. Just to be safe, An Changqing set up a signal jammer.

Long Ao’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. He stared at the twisted characters, his voice filled with disbelief.

“What does this mean? He’s not Liu Xiao? Then who is he?”

He had met Liu Xiao before. That man’s build, face, voice—even his aura—were indistinguishable from the real Liu Xiao.

Hong Yuan hugged her battle axe, a chill running down her spine.

“This note was slipped to you by Liu Tiancheng? So he’s saying his own son, Liu Xiao, is fake?”

“A family member you’ve lived with day and night, and he turns out to be a fake? That’s even creepier than being stabbed by an old flame.”

God, she suddenly felt like Huaging wasn’t so great after all.

Wah wah wah, born in the magic city, die in the magic city, magic city loyalty! Director, save me!

Beside her, An Changqing’s expression was more serious than ever before. He picked up the note, carefully examining the bloodstains and handwriting.

“The handwriting is messy, full of fear. It’s clear the writer was in a highly unstable mental state, which matches Liu Tiancheng’s condition.”

He put the note down and looked up at Chen Guan.

“We have no evidence to prove any of this. This note could easily be dismissed as the ravings of a madman.”

“Acting rashly will only put us at a disadvantage.”

An Changqing’s gaze swept across the group, his voice calm.

“We need to verify this first.”

“We need a way to find something that only the real Liu Xiao would know—something the impostor can’t possibly know.”

He turned to Long Ao.

“Was there anything particular about him in the past?”

An Changqing himself wasn’t familiar with Liu Xiao, so he could only ask Long Ao.

Long Ao frowned and thought for a long time, then shook his head.

“The Liu brothers are all pretty mysterious. Especially this Liu Xiao—he basically never talked to anyone at school. Kept to himself.”

An Changqing’s lips curled into a slight smile upon hearing this.

“No. I have a way.”

……

In the hallway, Liu Xiao was walking expressionlessly, holding a cup of coffee, looking as indifferent to everything around him as always.

“Classmate Liu Xiao.”

An Changqing’s voice came from behind him.

Liu Xiao stopped, turned around, and looked at him with those weary eyes.

“Classmate An. Something the matter?”

An Changqing had a warm smile on his face, his tone light, like a classmate bumping into each other for a casual chat.

“Nothing big, just wanted to ask—where’s the coffee machine?”

He gestured at Chen Guan beside him, putting on a helpless look.

"You know, Chen Guan has liked drinking coffee ever since high school, and to this day he still does."