Chapter 1513: Chapter 1513

The night in Harland was thick with silence, broken only by the steady hum of engines slicing through the damp air. The city’s neon lights bled into the darkness like liquid fire, vivid streaks reflected on the glossy asphalt as two black jeeps tore down the desolate road.

Their headlights cut through the mist, glinting off puddles that shimmered like broken glass.

At this late hour, few were still on the streets, let alone near the restricted zone of Harland International Airfield. Yet the jeeps didn’t slow. They sped past the warning gates, the guards conveniently absent, the cameras already blinded by well-paid interference.

When they reached the runway, a sleek private jet waited under the glow of floodlights, its turbine already spinning with a low, hungry whir. The smell of aviation fuel mingled with the chill of midnight air.

The first jeep braked sharply, tires screeching against the tarmac.

Sean stepped out first, his tactical suit slightly rumpled from the long drive, his expression carved from ice. Lucia followed, her fur coat fluttering in the wind, her high heels clicking like the ticking of a clock, every sound sharp, deliberate, impatient.

Timothy, as usual, he wearing a hoodie and a headphone clung to his neck. His move is boring and lazy pace like a boy who got bored with the vacation and can’t wait to go home.

By the boarding stairs stood the captain, a tall man with dark hair and the posture of someone who had long since stopped asking questions. Beside him stood another figure, a short, plump man in a black coat, his jaw clenched tight and his hand twitching near his pocket as if guarding something dangerous."

"You have five minutes," the man in black said curtly, his voice low but cutting through the hum of engines.

Sean’s smirk came easily, practiced, and poisonous. "That’s more than enough."

He pulled a thick envelope from inside his coat and extended it with casual elegance. The man took it quickly, eyes darting left and right before stuffing it into his jacket as though it burned his fingers.

"Captain Smith will be your pilot," he said, straightening slightly, his tone clipped and uneasy.

Sean’s brow arched. "Captain Smith," he repeated, savoring the fake name, his tone dripping with mockery. "How... original."

The man’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. "Yes, hurry up," he muttered before striding away, his figure swallowed by the shadows beyond the tarmac.

Sean smiled in quiet amusement, watching the man in the black jacket retreat with hurried steps, as though chased by a ghost only he could see. The faint sound of his boots faded into the hum of the plane’s engines.

Sean’s grin deepened. Such a cowardice, yet he still dares to take a bribe. Unlike other nations where bribes could be buried beneath paperwork and power, Harland’s laws were merciless and absolute.

Anyone caught accepting a bribe would face the full weight of the state’s justice. Their assets would be seized, and depending on the magnitude of their crime, the guilty could face fifteen years in prison, life-long exile, or even execution.

The law, however, drew a thin, cruel line: only the perpetrator was executed. Their family would be exiled, stripped of citizenship, forced to leave Harland, and, depending on how severe the corruption is, they would be allowed to return to Harland after three generations.

However, Thomas’s family was a special case. Thanks to his exceptional contributions to the kingdom during his time as one of the King’s Men, his family was spared from exile.

Even so, his father couldn’t escape the death penalty, and their family’s wealth was confiscated, forcing Thomas to take on odd jobs just to provide for them.

Sean chuckled under his breath, the sound low and mocking. "If you’re so scared, you should not take the money," he said with a mocking tone.

A moment later, Sean, snapping back to the present, gestured sharply to his men. "Get them on the plane."

Two men obeyed, opening the jeep’s rear doors. Inside, Lory and Zhao Li Xin lay motionless, the faint hum of tranquilizers still working through their systems. The air seemed to tense around them, the silence heavy, the stakes heavier.

Sean watched as they were lifted carefully, carried up the steps toward the waiting jet. He glanced once more at the dark runway stretching endlessly ahead, the wind tugging at his coat.

"Time to go," he said, in a calm, steady voice.

Everyone moved briskly, eager to get out of Harland before the night turned against them. Not one of them noticed the faint flutter of Lory’s eyelashes.

The truth is, Lory had been awake for a long time. The powerful tranquilizer had dissolved by her healing gift the second it entered her body. As for Zhao Li Xin, well... a mere tranquilizer wouldn’t affect a powerful cultivator like him.

This was basically a mosquito bite. He was just pretending to be unconscious, and Lory had to admit, Zhao Li Xin was doing an excellent job at it.

Of course, that might have something to do with all the soap operas she’d forced him to watch. Dozens of them. Weeks of dramatic fainting, fake deaths, and overacted amnesia scenes had apparently paid off. See, who said you can’t learned anything from TV? she thought smugly.

Afterward, they dropped her onto a chair, slapped handcuffs around her wrists, and strapped her in with a seatbelt. But then something unexpected happened, all of a sudden, a sharp sting pricked the back of her neck as something was injected into her body. Lory groaned in pain before she could stop herself.

Zhao Li Xin’s eyes snapped open just as another needle was pressed against his neck. He moved instinctively, ready to crush the hand that dared touch him, and save his beloved wife, but then his gaze met Lory, who sat opposite him.

Her eyes told him everything: Don’t. Not yet.

Zhao Li Xin forced himself to stay still, suppressing the fury that almost burst from his chest. He lowered his eyes, steadying his breath, and when he looked up again, his dark eyes locked onto the man who had injected Lory. The man shuddered under his unreadable gaze, his confidence withering. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✶𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮✶𝓷𝓮𝓽

"What are you looking at?" the man snapped, trying to hide his trembling heart.

Zhao Li Xin didn’t speak. His eyes simply followed the man like a predator deciding it next prey. The man grew uneasy and quickly stepped out of Zhao Li Xin’s sight.

"You’re awake already?" Sean sounded genuinely surprised. He checked his watch, lips curving faintly. "Sooner than I thought," he mumbled calmly.

"Where are you taking us?" Lory asked; she deliberately made her voice hoarse to show her weak state.

"Somewhere far from Harland’s influence," Sean replied calmly, settling into the seat beside her with unbothered grace. His tone was smooth, almost conversational. "Relax, sweetheart," he added with a smug smile. "You and your husband are about to become very valuable guests."

Lory sneered. Guest? More like a captive. She knew what Sean’s intentions were, but his reasons still eluded her.

"Whatever. But can you sit somewhere else? Your cologne is assaulting my nose," she quipped.

Sean’s mouth twitched. Like husband, like wife, both possessed a poisonous tongue. Yet he didn’t move. Instead, he gave a subtle signal.

A flight attendant appeared, carrying a bottle of red wine with a polished smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She poured it slowly into a crystal glass, the rich liquid catching the cabin light.

"Would you like some wine?" Sean asked smoothly, raising his glass toward Lory.

"?" Lory showed with her eyes, her bound hands, the cuffs glinting under the soft light. Her legs were strapped tightly to the seat with reinforced belts—like some dangerous patient being transported under ’special care.’

Sean’s smile wavered for a second before amusement crept back in. "Ah, right. My apologies. Standard procedure for gifted people. Besides, your record isn’t exactly obedient, is it, Miss Jane?"

"Mrs. Zhao, please, I like to be called like that," Lory corrected sweetly, a wide smile slicing through the tension.

Lucia rolled her eyes. Sean’s brow arched with quiet amusement. "You seem rather relaxed for a prisoner, Miss Jane."

Lory turned her head away and closed her eyes, silent but clear; she wouldn’t respond unless he addressed her properly.

Lucia’s patience snapped. She rose abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor, and strode forward. Without warning, her hand struck Lory’s face. The crack of the slap echoed sharply through the cabin.

"Stop acting so high and mighty!" Lucia snarled. "You think we won’t dare to hurt you? You’ll follow our orders—or else!"

Zhao Li Xin’s eyes widened, rage igniting in his chest, dark and lethal. His fists clenched, his power trembling on the edge of release. But Lory’s subtle hand gesture asked him not to make a move, halting his movement.

Regardless, the abyss in his eyes deepened until it looked ready to swallow light itself. He fixed his gaze on Lucia’s back, and in that moment, his decision was made, with or without Lory’s approval.

Lory smacked her bleeding lip lightly, then tilted her head with a defiant smirk. "Or else what?"

Lucia’s eyes flashed. "You—" She raised her hand again, but Sean’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

His voice filled the cabin, hard and commanding. "Back to your seat, Lucia."

"I’m not your subordinate, Sean!" she shot back, furious.

"Back. To. Your. Seat," he repeated, each word colder than the last, warning flaring in his gaze.

Lucia pressed her lips into a thin line, her jaw trembling with restraint. She threw Lory one last murderous glare before spinning on her heel and marching back to her seat.

Sean took a cold towel from the flight attendant and pressed it to Lory’s swollen cheek. "I’m sorry for that," his voice sounds almost sincere.

But Lory knew better, she tilt her head away from Sean’s touch. "It’s fine," she answers calmly. "She’s got soft hand."

Sean’s hand froze in the air. The woman is more stubborn than he expected, it wouldn’t be easy to make her change her mind, all of a sudden he feel a sharp gaze pierce his face. Sean turns his head, at the moment, his eyes lock on Zhao Li Xin’s cold Onyx eyes.

The man’s gaze was nothing short of predatory. Those onyx eyes reflected no emotion, no light, just depth, vast, quiet, and lethal. It wasn’t rage that filled them, but something far colder. The kind of darkness that didn’t lash out, it seeped quietly.

For a heartbeat, Sean felt as though he were standing on the edge of a void, gravity pulling him in. The air seemed to vanish from his lungs. That calm, unreadable face across from him radiated a pressure so suffocating, so restrained, it made his pulse stumble.

A chill slid down Sean’s spine, sweat dampening his palms. There was something profoundly wrong about those eyes, it felt like being marked by a predator, silent and patient, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He forced a slow breath through his nose, straightening his shoulders, smoothing his expression back into practiced calm. A thin smile curved his lips.

"You’re rather quiet, Mr. Zhao," he said lightly, setting the towel aside as if nothing had happened.

"Am I?" Zhao Li Xin’s voice was low, almost languid. Then a smile crept across his face, slow and deliberate, too beautiful to be human, too chilling to be kind.

In that instant, he looked less like a man and more like something that had crawled out from the deepest pit of hell, wearing humanity as a disguise.

If Mong Ki and Mong Yi saw this, they would’ve known what that smile meant: something terrible was about to happen.