Later that night, after dinner, the house gradually fell silent. Lin Fang retired to his room, and the others did the same, heading off to sleep.
Once the door clicked shut and the lock turned, Lin Fang exhaled softly and sat at his desk. The room was dimly lit by the glow of his laptop. He pulled the USB from his pocket and inserted it carefully.
His fingers hovered briefly over the keyboard before typing in the password—Li Xue's phone number. The screen flickered, and a video file appeared. Its length was barely a minute.
Lin Fang clicked play, eyes narrowing as the image sharpened. Li Chengfeng appeared on the screen, sitting in a dimly lit study. His expression was calm, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips instead of his typical drunken old man image.
"My disciple," Li Chengfeng began, his chuckle low and soft, almost teasing. "Even though I say that, I haven't really taught you anything to consider you one. I only gave you presents and nothing else."
