The Sheng mansion looked peaceful from the outside.
Too peaceful.
The kind of calm that didn't come naturally—but was forced, controlled, maintained like a fragile illusion that could crack at any moment.
Inside, however—
Nothing was calm.
Zian stepped into the living room without announcing herself, her movements quiet, her expression unchanged, as if the strange encounter earlier meant nothing to her, as if she hadn't just been warned by someone who clearly wasn't ordinary.
But inside—
So they've started sending smarter people now.
On the sofa sat Jiang Nanshu.
Waiting.
Her posture was elegant, her back straight, her hands resting neatly on her lap, her smile gentle as always—but her eyes were watching the moment Zian entered, sharp beneath the softness.
"Welcome back," Jiang Nanshu said warmly.
Zian paused for a second.
Then walked in.
She's still here? Persistent.
Jiang Nanshu's smile didn't change.
But her fingers tightened slightly.
Huo Lou sat nearby, clearly more relaxed than before, as if Jiang Nanshu's presence made things feel… normal again.
"Zian, come sit," she said.
Zian raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Zian?" she repeated.
Inside—
Oh? When did we become close?
Huo Lou froze for a second.
Jiang Nanshu spoke smoothly, saving the moment.
"We were just talking about you," she said gently.
Zian sat down slowly.
"Sounds dangerous," she replied.
Inside—
Let me guess. I'm the villain again.
Sterling, who had just walked in, let out a quiet laugh.
"Still self-aware, I see," he muttered.
Zian glanced at him.
"I try," she said.
Inside—
At least one of us should be.
He stopped smiling.
Jiang Nanshu watched this carefully.
Every reaction.
Every shift.
Then she spoke again.
"I was telling them," she said softly, "that maybe yesterday's incident wasn't random."
The room stilled.
Zian leaned back slightly.
"Oh?" she said.
Inside—
Here we go.
Huo Lou frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Jiang Nanshu looked thoughtful.
"There are rumors," she said slowly, "about people targeting the Sheng family recently."
Their mother, who had just entered, stopped walking.
Their father's expression darkened slightly.
Sterling crossed his arms.
Fiang Sheng, standing near the window, didn't move.
Zian watched all of this quietly.
Inside—
Nice setup.
Jiang Nanshu continued.
"If that's true," she said, "then maybe… someone close to the family is being used as a weak point."
Silence.
Everyone's gaze shifted.
To Zian.
She didn't react.
Not outwardly.
Inside—
And there it is.
Huo Lou's expression changed.
"You think she's the target?" she asked.
Jiang Nanshu hesitated.
Just enough.
"I'm just worried," she said softly.
Zian smiled faintly.
"Of course you are," she said.
Inside—
You're worried I didn't die yesterday.
The temperature in the room dropped.
Jiang Nanshu's eyes flickered.
But she didn't break.
"You misunderstand," she said gently.
Zian tilted her head.
"Do I?" she asked.
Inside—
Then explain better.
Sterling looked between them, clearly entertained now.
"This is getting interesting," he muttered.
Their mother spoke sharply.
"Enough."
The room fell silent again.
But the tension didn't disappear.
It grew.
Later that evening—
Zian stood on the balcony, the night air cool against her skin, her gaze fixed on the dark city beyond, her expression calm but her mind far from still.
Jiang Nanshu…
Her fingers tapped lightly against the railing.
She's involved.
Behind her—
A presence.
She didn't turn.
Of course it's him.
Fiang Sheng stepped beside her.
"You seem busy," he said.
Zian glanced at him.
"Thinking," she replied.
Inside—
Something you should try.
He ignored that.
"You don't trust her," he said.
Zian looked back at the city.
"No," she said simply.
Inside—
And neither should you.
He studied her.
"Why?" he asked.
Zian was quiet for a moment.
Then—
"Instinct," she said.
Inside—
Because she smells like trouble.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
"Your instincts are interesting," he said.
Zian shrugged.
"They keep me alive," she replied.
Inside—
Unlike some people's choices.
He didn't respond immediately.
Because again—
Her words and thoughts didn't match.
And yet—
Both felt true.
Downstairs—
Jiang Nanshu stood alone in the living room now.
Her smile was gone.
Completely.
Her expression cold.
Sharp.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
"She's changed," she whispered.
Not softly.
Not gently.
But dangerously.
"And that's a problem."