Two days later, my third uncle sent me a small package of medicine along with a stern warning: [Don’t make any reckless moves. Wait until I bring backup to handle him.]

The drug was meant to put Feng Yan into a deep sleep for several days. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized Su Jing’an didn’t just want to save me—he wanted to kill Feng Yan.

I called him back immediately. “I only want to remove the mark on my body. I never agreed to killing him.”

Su Jing’an went silent for a few seconds. [Fine. We’ll do it your way.]

His face on my phone screen always gave me an uncanny, unsettling feeling. Though he was relatively young, his eyes held an ancient, withered look, like someone who had lived through centuries of horror. He instructed me to point my phone’s camera toward Feng Yan.

At that moment, Feng Yan was in the kitchen washing dishes, happily humming a cheerful love song to himself.

[Point it at his back,] Uncle Su commanded.

I did as I was told. Su Jing’an pulled out an old bronze mirror and held it up directly in front of his screen. His voice dropped into a dark, heavy register: [There is something clinging to his back.]

I pinched my fingers on the screen to zoom in, and my blood instantly turned to ice.

Piled high on top of Feng Yan’s back were countless spectral figures, mangled and drenched in fresh blood. Some were missing half their faces, others had their intestines spilling out, and some were just severed lower torsos… A sea of pale, rotting hands clung tightly to his shoulders and spine.

And yet, Feng Yan just stood there by the sink, washing dishes and softly humming a tune. The sheer grotesque contrast sent chills cascading down my spine.

Su Jing’an lowered his voice. [Our ancestral records mention this exact type of demon. It is exceptionally cruel, having slaughtered countless living beings. Most terrifying of all, it can disguise itself as a human with absolute perfection.]

He paused briefly before continuing, [Wait two more days. I’ll bring the team over. This time, we’re putting an end to him for good.]

I stared at Feng Yan in the kitchen for a long, quiet moment before whispering, “…Okay.”

I couldn’t wait for Su Jing’an to arrive. On the day of Feng Yan’s birthday, he began acting completely unhinged.

I suspected it was because of the safety talisman Uncle Su had sent me. Ever since I started wearing it, Feng Yan had been restless, pacing like a caged beast. His pupils shrank into cold, reptilian slits. The moment I stepped out of his line of sight, he would instantly materialize behind me: “Where are you going?”

“To grab some fresh ingredients to cook your birthday dinner.”

He nodded slowly. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, I slipped around the garden trellis, aiming for the back gate. I hadn’t even made it a few yards before he plucked me right off my feet. Literally—he swept an arm around my waist and hoisted me back into the house like a duffel bag.

“Running around again. Unruly little thing.”

The second we crossed the threshold, he pinned me straight to the floor. His fangs were far sharper today than usual. A sharp, searing pain shot straight from my neck down my spine. Moments later, his body went limp, and he collapsed onto my shoulder, fast asleep.

I used every ounce of my strength to haul him onto the couch. When he woke up, he seemed to have zero memory of what had just happened, casually pulling me onto his lap as if nothing were wrong.

“Where’s my birthday gift?” he murmured, nuzzling against my neck.

Almost immediately, he caught the scent of my fresh blood. His eyes went hazy, and his fangs slid out once more.

I quickly snatched a glass of wine from the coffee table and thrust it into his hand. “Drink this first. Your gift is coming right up.”

He happily accepted it. Every single birthday went the same way: he’d drink, hold me tight, and cling to me like superglue. But this year was different. That glass of wine was spiked with Su Jing’an’s medicine. Even at a tenth of the full dosage, it was potent enough to knock him out for a few hours.

The System had informed me that my presence was disrupting the natural plotline between the main leads. It offered to temporarily stash me in another world until things settled down, after which I could return. I was out of options; I had to run now and figure out the rest later.

Feng Yan drained the glass. He rested his chin on my shoulder, letting out a series of low sighs.

“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

Suddenly, the weight on my shoulder vanished. Feng Yan sat up straight, his lips curling into a razor-thin, dangerous smile.

“Aren’t you the one who should be explaining things to me? My love… I feel a little strange today.”

The drug was taking effect. But contrary to what Su Jing’an had promised, this wasn’t a sedative—it was a catalyst that drove demons completely wild.

Before I could react, his fangs sank deep into my flesh once again. Tears of pure agony burst from my eyes. “Feng Yan!”

He had completely lost control. I screamed his name over and over, but it was useless.

The phone on the sofa vibrated endlessly, but when I reached for it, he pinned my wrist to the floor with a vice-like grip. High above us, the crystal chandelier rattled violently with his harsh movements. For the very first time, I witnessed Feng Yan’s raw, unbridled predatory instinct: no softness, no patience. In his eyes right now, I was nothing more than prey.

Just like that woman had said: Drain her blood first, then swallow her whole.

Through the haze of pain and fading consciousness, a sudden wave of memories washed over me, answering the question of why I was so deathly afraid of snakes.

I had been terrified of Feng Yan since long, long ago.

Back during the Kaiyuan era of the Tang Dynasty, I had died by his hands. He had clamped his jaws onto my neck in the exact same way. My body had been broken and bloody, racking me with pain that seeped into my very bones. As I drew my final breath back then, I had cried out to him just like this: “A-Yan… let me go…”

Then my soul had shattered, and I died.

And history was repeating itself. I still couldn’t push him off me.

“Feng Yan… Feng Yan!”

I tried desperately to call him back to his senses, but he only fed on my neck with greedy, feral kisses. Despair washed over me.

Just as I was about to give up, a frantic, heavy pounding rattled the front door. “Tri Du!”

It was Su Jing’an’s voice.

Hearing the commotion outside, Feng Yan finally paused. He stared down at me for a long, quiet moment, then suddenly scooped me up into his arms and carried me down to the basement.

Hidden below was a secret safe room. He had once told me: “If I’m not home and you’re ever in danger… you can hide in here.” I never imagined that the person locking me inside would be him.

In my sheer panic, I blindly grabbed at his shirt. My fingers brushed against something ice-cold and unnaturally smooth. His dress shirt tore open, revealing a vast expanse of midnight-black scales across his chest.

Feng Yan froze. A rare flash of utter panic flickered in his eyes.

Right in that exact second, a wave of violent, overwhelming nausea surged up my throat.

Feng Yan stared at me, his gaze darkening, before letting out a cold, bitter laugh. “Do you really hate me that much?”

He leaned down and bit hard into my shoulder—a petty, spiteful act of retaliation. “You’ve known for a long time, haven’t you? You knew I wasn’t human.”

I gave a weak, breathless nod. Almost instantly, another violent wave of nausea hit me. His eyes turned pitch black. He let out a low, ominous chuckle, then raised a remote control…