Chapter 461: Chapter 461; Li Feng & Madam Chen

The room felt different now—warmer, safer, a sanctuary carved out from the polished dangers of the gala. She moved closer again, this time without any hesitation, sliding beneath the covers and turning slightly toward him. Her hand reached out instinctively, finding the sleeve of his shirt and holding onto it lightly, as if anchoring herself in the quiet.

He looked down at her, his expression quieter, the intensity still present but tempered by something gentler. "Tired?" he asked, his voice low.

"A little," she admitted, the word softer than before, carrying the honest weight of the evening.

He adjusted the blanket over her with careful attention, ensuring she was fully cocooned before settling beside her. His arm moved naturally around her, pulling her just close enough that she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest without being overwhelmed. She did not resist. Instead, she leaned fully into him, her head resting against his chest, her breathing gradually evening out as the events of the night finally released their hold. The strong, unflinching woman who had commanded the room earlier was still there—but here, in this moment, she allowed herself to rest completely.

His hand moved slowly along her back in long, soothing strokes—not demanding, not urgent, simply a quiet reassurance that spoke louder than any words. "I meant what I said," he murmured after a while, his voice a low rumble in the dim room.

She did not look up, but her fingers tightened slightly against his shirt. "About what?"

"About watching you."

There was no immediate response, but the subtle press of her body against his conveyed everything. "I know," she said after a moment, the words warm against his skin.

Silence followed again, but this time it carried a profound understanding, layered and complete.

Outside, the estate had fallen fully still, the last lights dimming as the night wrapped itself around the grounds. Inside the room, nothing else demanded their attention—no whispers, no expectations, no watchful eyes. Just them.

Shuyin shifted slightly, nestling more comfortably against him, her hand resting over his as her eyes slowly closed. And for once, Lu Yuze did not move, did not check anything, did not leave. He stayed exactly where he was, holding her with that quiet, unwavering certainty. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

As the night quietly wrapped around them both, the world outside remained forgotten, leaving only the steady rhythm of their breathing and the profound peace of being exactly where they belonged.

Before sleep claimed her completely, in that fragile threshold where consciousness thinned like mist and dreams began to gather at the edges of her mind, Shuyin stirred faintly against Lu Yuze’s chest. Her breathing had already slowed to a deep, even rhythm, her body melting into the warmth of his embrace, but her mind—sharp as tempered steel even in exhaustion—had not yet surrendered. There was one last thing to do. One final chain to loosen.

Her fingers shifted almost imperceptibly against the blanket, a ghost of movement beneath the covers. Deep within herself, where the ancient currents of her mermaid power lay coiled like hidden tides beneath a calm sea, she reached for the curse she had once placed upon Lu Zeyan. It had not been born of fleeting anger alone. It had been forged in the crucible of betrayal: the prison walls that had closed around her like iron jaws, the public humiliation that stripped her of name and dignity, the cold despair of watching everything she loved be buried alive while those responsible walked free under the city’s glittering lights.

The curse had wrapped around Lu Zeyan’s mind like seaweed dragging a drowning man under—reducing him, regressing him, forcing him into a childlike helplessness that mirrored the powerlessness she had once endured. It had clouded his thoughts, unraveled his control, turned every calculated move into a stumbling haze of confusion and vice.

But now... that helplessness no longer served her purpose.

Slowly, deliberately, she released it. Not with drama or theatrical flair. Not with visible magic that would light the room in ethereal glow or stir the air with unnatural wind. Instead, it unraveled with the quiet, dangerous precision that true power always carried—subtle as a current shifting far below the surface. An unseen thread snapped. A binding dissolved. A spell lifted, dissolving back into the ether from which it had been drawn.

Somewhere across the sleeping city, in a guarded hospital room where Lu Zeyan lay under constant observation, something shifted in the sterile silence. His breathing changed, deepening and steadying for the first time in days. His fingers twitched against the crisp white sheets. His sleeping mind stirred, the fog that had held him captive beginning to recede grain by grain, like mist burning away at dawn.

Because Shuyin had made her decision.

How could she send him to prison—how could she make him answer for every calculated ruin, every stolen legacy, every life he had ground beneath his heel—if he remained lost inside a broken mind?

No. He would face it conscious. Sober. Fully aware. He would remember everything: the deals, the betrayals, the quiet satisfactions he had taken while her world burned. Only then would he feel what she had felt. Not the merciful escape of madness. Not the soft oblivion of damaged innocence. But the full, merciless weight of it all—the shame, the terror of losing control over one’s own fate, the slow, inexorable fall from power into nothingness.

She would not punish a childlike shell. She would punish the man.

A faint breath left her lips as the final trace of magic withdrew, leaving behind only a cool, fleeting whisper along her spine—like seawater retreating from the shore. Then she settled again against Lu Yuze, the effort invisible to anyone who might have watched, her face peaceful and almost innocent in the soft lamplight, as though the act had cost her nothing at all.

Lu Yuze did not know what she had just done. He remained oblivious, lost in his own deep sleep, unaware that while lying safe in his arms, half-dreaming, she had altered another man’s destiny with nothing more than a thought and the hidden power she had carried in silence for so long. Yet something in him stirred instinctively, a faint ripple of unease that tightened his arm around her—protective, possessive, steady—as if some primal part of him sensed the shift in the air, the quiet unleashing of forces he could never comprehend.

And Shuyin, already sinking fully into sleep, allowed herself one final, razor-sharp thought before darkness took her completely.

Wake up, Lu Zeyan.

It is time you suffered as a man.

The night wrapped around them both then, deep and untroubled for her at last. Outside, the estate slept on, unaware. Inside the bedroom, the only movement was the slow rise and fall of their breathing, the quiet rhythm of two bodies aligned in trust—while far away, in a sterile room across the city, Lu Zeyan’s eyes fluttered open for the first time in clarity, confusion giving way to dawning horror as the weight of reality settled upon him once more.

But because of injections and tranquilizers, he fell back to unconsciousness.

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Night in Black Water Ridge did not rest.

It waited.

The corridors had quieted on the surface, the usual clamor of shouts and clanging metal reduced to a low, distant hum that might have passed for peace to anyone unfamiliar with the place. But beneath that silence lay something far more deliberate—soft footsteps that knew exactly which tiles did not creak, keys turning in locks where no official record would ever note the motion, whispers exchanged in codes older than the prison walls themselves. Black Water Ridge was not merely a facility; it was a living organism, and tonight it had chosen to feed.

Inside Lin Feng’s cell, the air had grown thick, almost viscous, heavy with the metallic tang of old blood and unwashed concrete. The single overhead bulb cast long, jagged shadows across the bunks, turning every corner into a threat. He felt it before anything happened—that same razor-sharp instinct he had once wielded like a weapon in boardrooms and back-alley deals, the one that had let him read a man’s greed before the man himself knew it existed. Now it screamed at him from beneath layers of fear and bruised flesh.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Lin Feng shifted on the thin mattress, his cracked ribs screaming in protest with every shallow breath.