Chapter Twenty: Cold-Blooded

Mo Lan paid no heed to the woman’s provocation, only smiling faintly as she took a sip of her wine.

“Lan, your subordinates really lack manners. Isn’t it disrespectful to treat the captain this way, without even a salute? Even if she’s just the vice captain, she still deserves proper respect,” Qian Yin retorted, her sharp tongue in no way inferior to anyone else’s. This woman started belittling others the moment she arrived; Mo Lan couldn’t afford to take offense, or she’d be called petty. Truly, a scheming woman.

Xiao Qi’s face darkened at once. All these years, she’d never made it to vice captain—perhaps it wasn’t just a matter of ability. To follow An Feng for so many years was the result of her own efforts, yet not becoming vice captain remained her regret.

Though it was a thorn in her heart, she wouldn’t allow others to point it out so openly.

But at such an important gathering, she didn’t want to appear shrewish, so she gritted her teeth and saluted. Even in a dress, her salute was solemn and practiced.

Mo Lan merely nodded; having someone to back her up was all the better.

“Everyone’s here, I see,” came a joking remark, lightening the atmosphere a little.

Surprisingly, it came from Captain An Feng himself—usually so aloof, yet here he was helping someone else out of an awkward situation. Mo Lan found it both puzzling and dissatisfying. The confusion was understandable, but the dissatisfaction came from nowhere.

The first time Qian Yin saw that man, she was struck by how strikingly handsome he was. His usual cold demeanor, now showing a hint of awkwardness, was strangely endearing.

An Feng had been watching Qian Yin as well. For her to mingle with Mo Lan, she must be extraordinary. There was something unique about her, a scent unlike ordinary people.

“What are you staring at? If you want to keep looking, you’ll have to pay. This girl is mine,” Mo Lan declared, catching An Feng’s gaze and pulling Qian Yin behind her, protective as a mother hen with her chick.

“She’s pretty, but not quite breathtaking, so there’s no need to be so possessive, Vice Captain,” Xiao Qi interjected again, her boorishness grating on everyone’s nerves.

“Get lost!” Mo Lan suddenly felt her temper slipping. This brainless woman was everywhere, always an annoyance.

Witnessing the scene, Qian Yin realized that this man occupied a unique place in Mo Lan’s heart and couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Afterward, she patted Mo Lan’s shoulder with a smile, saying, “It’s alright—I don’t need others to judge my looks. Let’s not get upset. Let’s just sit and chat.”

An Feng and Xiao Qi also took their seats. The four of them sat, eyes darting, an air of discord hanging over them.

The idea had been to chat, but once seated, not one of them spoke, and the atmosphere turned unbearably awkward. When a server brought over wine and snacks, Qian Yin picked a few at random and offered them to Mo Lan, smiling, “Don’t be upset. It’s rare for us to gather.”

Mo Lan turned her face away, refusing to look at the other two. Qian Yin, helpless, watched as the two edged closer to Mo Lan. She reached out, tugged Mo Lan’s shoulder, and pouted, “If you keep this up, I won’t play with you anymore.”

Mo Lan hadn’t truly intended to be angry; she was just putting on a show. Seeing Qian Yin acting like a little girl, she finally broke into a smile.

Still, they couldn’t find a suitable topic, and the awkwardness lingered. At that moment, Mo Fan joined them.

“Sis!” Out in public, Mo Fan gave his sister all due respect, waving in greeting before sitting down. His eyes only briefly swept over the other two.

Mo Lan wasn’t surprised by Mo Fan’s behavior; after all, family had to present a united front.

Qian Yin recalled the deal she had in mind, but just then, she spotted a familiar face—the second-ranked assassin in the underground world. Assassins have keen senses, and she’d already noticed someone covertly watching her.

Looking up, she met those sharp, icy eyes. The two people he meant to kill were sitting right beside her; he was probably ready to act.

Cold Blood. This man was notorious for his cruelty. His most horrific killing had been to chop a person into mincemeat and stuff it into buns, which he then delivered to the client.

The incident had even made the news, but Cold Blood had never been caught, nor had his identity as the killer been revealed. As for how Qian Yin knew, she’d happened to be with the client that very day.

It had been their first meeting. The instant their eyes met, a fight nearly broke out. After all, there’s always a narrow gap between first and second place. The client had to spend a long time calming them down before they refrained from fighting in his house.

“Mo Lan, come with me to the restroom. I have something to discuss with you privately.” Qian Yin’s brow furrowed, and after some thought, she decided to confide in Mo Lan. After all, the Mo family patriarch had only this one grandson; if anything happened to him at the banquet, the old man would be heartbroken.

As for An Feng, he was more than capable of protecting himself—he’d sent many assassins to their deaths, including the tenth-ranked one, whom he’d personally put behind bars. If Han hadn’t been so hot-tempered, he might not have ended up in prison.

Mo Lan was a little suspicious about why they needed to go to the restroom—had something happened?

But seeing the unease in Qian Yin’s eyes, she said nothing more. Hand in hand, the two of them left together, with that watchful gaze trailing after Qian Yin.

The restrooms were separated by gender, so Cold Blood wouldn’t follow them in.

“What’s wrong? You look anxious.” As soon as they entered, the two began talking near the sinks.

Qian Yin gestured for silence. This was a public place—speaking out could disrupt the banquet. Instead, she typed a message on her phone and sent it over.

Mo Lan, though she didn’t quite understand, cooperated and read the message. Upon seeing that someone intended to kill the two of them, she was shocked and skeptical about how Qian Yin knew.

After Qian Yin’s explanation, Mo Lan was deeply shaken. Clearly, their opponent this time was no ordinary figure, if even Qian Yin was wary.

They exchanged messages for a while, then, realizing the banquet was about to begin, stepped out. They had agreed: Mo Lan would stay with An Feng, and Qian Yin with Mo Fan, both guarding them closely.

Qian Yin couldn’t help but feel a touch of irony—this was her first time taking a protection job, and with no payment at that.