Midterm examinations were a week away.
The library had become Lin Chuan's second home. Morning lectures. Afternoon laboratory sessions. Evenings buried beneath stacks of books. His expanded course load had become the talk of the university. Some called him a genius. Others called him insane. A few whispered that he was trying to prove something, to fill some void left by his suicide attempt.
Lin Chuan didn't care. For the first time in either life, learning wasn't something he had to fight for. It was simply there. The books were available. The professors were knowledgeable. The resources were endless. He devoured them all.
His schedule was brutal. Organic chemistry lab on Mondays. Advanced economics seminars on Tuesdays. History lectures on Wednesdays. Mechanical design workshops on Thursdays. Three language classes scattered throughout the week. His notes filled notebooks. His highlighters were running out of ink. His brain was constantly buzzing with new information, new connections, new questions.
He loved every second of it.
---
Elsewhere on campus, Lin Chen slammed his locker shut.
His face still burned whenever he remembered that breakfast. The humiliation. The guards escorting him out. His father's furious lecture afterward. The threats. The way Lin Xu had looked at him, cold and calm, like he was already dead.
None of it would have happened if not for Lin Mu. The orphan. The failure. The suicide who couldn't even die properly. If Lin Mu had just stayed in his room, kept his head down, disappeared the way he was supposed to, none of this would have happened.
His phone vibrated. A contact without a name.
"I have a job."
The reply came immediately.
>Price?*
Lin Chen typed without hesitation.
> Scare him. Break an arm if you have to. Don't kill him. I want him too frightened to return to school.
He transferred the money. Then deleted the conversation.
A smile finally appeared on his face.
It was ugly.
Satisfied.
He imagined Lin Mu cowering in a corner, bleeding, begging. He imagined the look on Lin Xu's face when he found out. The helplessness. The rage. The knowledge that he couldn't protect his precious nephew from everything.
The smile widened.
---
Classes ended later than usual.
The sun had already begun setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Students streamed toward the gates, their voices blending into a low hum of conversation. Backpacks were slung over shoulders. Phones were pulled from pockets. The day was over.
Lin Chuan walked alone. His driver would arrive in another ten minutes. His bodyguards remained out of sight as always, hidden among the crowd, watching, waiting. Lin Xu had insisted on it. Protect him without interfering with his daily life. They obeyed.
Lin Chuan took a shortcut through a narrow service road behind the engineering building. It was quieter. Less crowded. The path was lined with dumpsters and old equipment. The smell of garbage and diesel hung in the air.
He had almost reached the end when three men stepped into his path.
Construction uniforms. Masks, wrong shoes, wrong posture. Not workers. The clothes were too clean. The shoes were too expensive. Their movements were too coordinated.
One smiled. It was the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Young Master Lin. You'll come with us."
Lin Chuan sighed. The sound was long-suffering. Exasperated.
"...Do I have a choice?"
"No."
"I thought so."
The tallest man reached for his shoulder. His hand was large. Rough. It would have been strong enough to grip and twist and break.
Lin Chuan moved first.
His backpack swung upward. The heavy engineering textbook inside struck the man's wrist with a dull crack. The bone didn't break, but the impact was enough to send a shock of pain through the man's arm. He yelped, his hand jerked back.
Before the other two reacted, Lin Chuan stepped forward. His elbow drove into the second man's throat. The cartilage compressed. The man staggered backward, choking, his hands flying to his neck. His eyes bulged.
The third man pulled out a folding knife. The blade glinted in the fading light.
"Little bastard!"
Lin Chuan's eyes narrowed. Previous life, night shifts. Working alone. He had learned one lesson. Never wait for the attack.
He kicked a loose brick lying beside the path. It bounced once before striking the man's shin. The impact was solid. The man's leg buckled. The knife dipped. That was enough.
Lin Chuan closed the distance. His fist buried itself into the man's solar plexus. Air exploded from the kidnapper's lungs. The man doubled over. A second punch. A knee. The knife clattered across the pavement.
The first man recovered. His wrist was still aching, but he was upright. He charged. His shoulder was lowered. His arms were outstretched.
Lin Chuan pivoted. Using the man's momentum, he grabbed his sleeve and shoulder and threw him over his hip. The technique was clean. Precise. The man's back slammed into the concrete with a sickening thud.
Silence. The three kidnappers groaned across the pavement. One was clutching his throat. Another was curled around his stomach. The third was flat on his back, gasping.
Lin Chuan adjusted his slightly crooked backpack. He looked down at the three men. His expression was calm. Unimpressed.
"...You people are surprisingly unprofessional."
One of the men tried reaching for the dropped knife. He never touched it. Figures dressed in black appeared from every direction. Six, Eight. The hidden bodyguards. They moved like shadows, silent and efficient.
One of them stepped on the knife before it reached the man's hand. The blade crunched under his boot. Another restrained the kidnapper in seconds. His arms were twisted behind his back. His face was pressed into the pavement. The remaining kidnappers didn't even manage to stand. Their arms were twisted behind their backs with practiced efficiency.
One bodyguard approached Lin Chuan. His face was expressionless. His voice was calm.
"Young Master. Are you injured?"
Lin Chuan looked down at himself. His clothes were rumpled. His backpack was crooked. But there was no blood. No pain.
"No. Only annoyed."
The bodyguard nodded.
"We'll handle the rest."
Lin Chuan glanced toward the three restrained men. They were on their knees now, their faces pale, their hands bound behind their backs.
"...Don't kill them."
"We won't. But Master Xu will decide what happens next."
The kidnappers' faces turned pale. One whispered shakily.
"...Master Xu?"
The bodyguard didn't answer. He spoke into an earpiece, his voice low and precise.
"Target secured. Young Master is unharmed."
There was a pause. The bodyguard listened. His expression didn't change.
"...Understood."
He turned back toward Lin Chuan.
"Master Xu is on his way."
Lin Chuan frowned.
"...He doesn't need to come."
"He already has."
Less than three minutes later, a familiar black sedan stopped beside the alley. The tires crunched on loose gravel. The engine idled for a moment, then cut off.
Lin Xu stepped out.
His expression was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that preceded storms. He looked first at Lin Chuan. His eyes swept over him, taking in every detail. The rumpled clothes. The crooked backpack. The slightly flushed face. Only after confirming he was unharmed did his gaze shift toward the kneelin kidnappers.
The temperature seemed to drop.
"Who sent you?"
No one answered. The kidnappers stared at the ground. Their shoulders were shaking.
Lin Xu nodded once.
"I see."
He looked toward his bodyguards.
"Take them."
One of the kidnappers finally shouted. His voice was high and desperate.
"It wasn't us! We were paid! We don't know who he is! He wore sunglasses. He never gave a name. He transferred the money through another account. We only... we only knew the target was the Lin family's young master."
Lin Xu stopped walking. He turned back. His expression was still calm. Still cold.
"Who?"
The tallest man swallowed. His throat bobbed visibly.
"We don't know. We swear. He was careful. We got the instructions through a burner phone. The money came from an offshore account. We never saw his face."
Lin Xu remained silent. The silence stretched. It was heavier than any shout.
Then.
"Find the account. Find the burner phone. Find the connection."
His bodyguards nodded.
"Yes, Master."
The kidnappers disappeared into waiting vehicles within moments. The cars pulled away silently, their headlights cutting through the gathering dusk.
The alley became quiet once more.
Lin Xu turned back toward Lin Chuan.
"Are you certain you're unhurt?"
Lin Chuan nodded. His heart was still beating fast, but his voice was steady.
"I'm fine." He paused. "They underestimated how many bar fights I witnessed in my previous..."
He stopped. The words had slipped out. He'd been about to say my previous life. He caught himself just in time.
Lin Xu tilted his head slightly. His eyes narrowed.
"My previous... part-time job. I used to work security at a nightclub. Saw a lot of fights. Picked up a few tricks."
It was a clumsy recovery. The lie was thin. The details didn't quite fit. But Lin Xu didn't question it. His expression remained neutral. He simply reached out and straightened Lin Chuan's slightly crooked collar. The movement was careful. Gentle.
"...You still shouldn't have fought them alone."
Lin Chuan smiled faintly. The expression was tired but genuine.
"I wasn't alone." He glanced toward the departing bodyguards. "I simply finished before they did."
For the first time that evening, the corner of Lin Xu's mouth lifted. A quiet smile. It transformed his face, softening the sharp edges.
"You certainly did."
Lin Xu opened the passenger door of the black sedan. The interior lights flicked on, revealing the familiar leather seats, the familiar scent of cedar and sandalwood.
"Get in."
Lin Chuan climbed inside. The seat was warm. The car was warm. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Lin Xu slid into the driver's seat. He started the engine. The car pulled away from the alley.
Neither spoke for several minutes. The city lights streaked past the windows. The silence was comfortable.
Then Lin Xu spoke.
"The account will be traced within twenty-four hours."
Lin Chuan opened his eyes.
"You think it was someone I know?"
"I think it was someone who knows you. Someone who wanted you scared, not dead. Someone who had access to your schedule. Someone who knew you would be alone at that time."
Lin Chuan thought about it. His schedule. His habits. His movements. The only people who knew those details were...
"Lin Chen."
Lin Xu's grip on the steering wheel tightened. His knuckles went white.
"I suspect so."
"You'll confront him?"
"I'll handle it." The words were flat. Final. "You won't be bothered again."
Lin Chuan looked at him. At the rigid set of his shoulders. At the controlled fury in his jaw. He'd seen this before. The warehouse. The bat. The smell of blood.
"Don't kill him."
Lin Xu glanced at him. His expression was unreadable.
"He's family." He added
"He crossed a line. He hired men to hurt you." Lin Xu's voice was cold. "Family doesn't protect you from consequences. Family should have known better."
Lin Chuan was quiet for a moment.
Then…
"I know. But grandfather... he wouldn't want a death in the family. It would hurt him. And he's already old. Already tired. Don't make him bury someone else."
Lin Xu's jaw tightened. His hands stayed white-knuckled on the wheel. But he didn't argue.
"I won't kill him."
The words were reluctant. Grudging. An admission.
Lin Chuan nodded. He leaned back in his seat. The exhaustion was catching up with him. The adrenaline was fading. His body was starting to ache.
"Thank you."
Lin Xu glanced at him. The coldness in his eyes softened.
"For what?"
"For not killing him."
Lin Xu was quiet for a long moment. Then.
"He won't touch you again. That's a promise."
The car continued through the night. The city lights blurred past. The scent of cedar and sandalwood wrapped around Lin Chuan like a blanket.
He closed his eyes. And for the first time that day, he felt safe.