Chapter 11: Family Secrets

Suddenly, the dark shadow on the ground sprang up and lunged toward Xianyu Qing and the others. Before Xianyu Qing could react, the shadow let out a pained grunt and collapsed with a heavy thud. Behind her stood Jiang Mohe, his expression cold and composed. In his hand was a black security baton, faint traces of blood still visible on its surface.

Nangong Ao, his face ashen, turned to the security captain. “Han Zhong, get someone to take care of this!” Han Zhong nodded, stepped aside, and used his Bluetooth intercom to dispatch staff.

Madam Nangong gently tried to soothe Xianyu Qing. “It’s all right now, don’t be afraid.” In truth, Xianyu Qing wasn’t particularly frightened—just startled by the suddenness of the scene.

Nangong Ao observed her relatively calm demeanor with a hint of newfound respect. Most girls in this situation would be screaming or at least pale with terror.

Madam Nangong led Xianyu Qing upstairs to rest, summoning Steward Xue to prepare some calming tea for her. Sitting on the edge of Xianyu Qing’s bed, Madam Nangong’s expression grew grave. “Qingqing,” she began softly, “for hundreds of years, the Nangong family has been relentlessly hunted by our enemies. I hadn’t wanted to burden you with these matters so soon, but now that danger has come to our very door, there is no use in keeping you in the dark.”

Xianyu Qing sat quietly, listening intently as Madam Nangong continued. “The members of the Nangong family are not like ordinary people. We are resistant to cold and hunger, difficult to injure, slow to age—our lifespans are much longer than most.”

“It’s because of our unique genetics. But there will always be those who see us as abominations and wish to destroy us. Once, they only dared to scheme from the shadows, wary of the Nangong family’s power. But in recent years, their numbers have swelled, their organization grown stronger. Now, the very survival of the Nangong family is at stake!”

Xianyu Qing found this revelation astonishing. Wasn’t she also of the Nangong bloodline? Why, then, did she possess none of these extraordinary traits?

Madam Nangong seemed to read her thoughts and explained, “You are the only ‘normal person’ in the entire Nangong clan.”

“I’m the only… normal one?” Xianyu Qing was stunned.

“That’s right,” Madam Nangong sighed. “Your blood test confirms your Nangong lineage, but your genes are different from the rest of us. That is precisely why you and your mother were once hunted by those people.”

Mention of her past with her mother stirred Xianyu Qing’s emotions. “What exactly happened back then?”

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After Xianyu Qing and Madam Nangong had gone upstairs, Nangong Ao scrutinized Jiang Mohe with a critical eye. He then asked coldly, “What is your relationship with the Jiang family of North City?”

Jiang Mohe had just finished securely tying up the unconscious assailant when he heard the question. He looked up and replied, “No relationship.”

Nangong Ao was not convinced. “Your skills come from the Jiang family in North City!”

The Jiang family of North City was not an illustrious house in the Imperial City. They hailed from an ancient town in the northwest of Country C, running a courier business for generations—known in olden times as an armed escort agency. Only a decade ago did the Jiang family relocate to the Imperial City, quickly establishing themselves in the north of the city. Though not rivals to the Nangong family, neither were they friends; the Jiang family’s creed was to work for whoever paid, never aligning with any faction.

Ordinarily, if a Jiang family member appeared somewhere, it meant they had been commissioned for a task. Yet here was a Jiang family member working as a security guard in the Nangong household!

Sensing the dangerous glint in Nangong Ao’s eyes, Han Zhong hurried to explain. “Young Master, Xiao Jiang and my brother worked as mercenaries together on the border of Country K for five years. That’s why I…” It was Jiang Mohe who had brought his late brother’s ashes back from the war-torn Country K. Impressed by Jiang’s skill and seeing he had no family, Han Zhong had recruited him.

Had he known Jiang Mohe was from the Jiang family, he would never have dared to let him join the security team!

Nangong Ao’s face was dark, his sharp gaze locked onto Jiang Mohe. Jiang Mohe, kneeling on one knee, calmly wiped his baton on the fallen attacker, his expression indifferent.

“I was disowned by the Jiang family at fifteen. Since then, I have nothing to do with them. If my past troubles you, Young Master, I can leave at once.”

Jiang Mohe stood, meeting Nangong Ao’s gaze. They were of similar height: one exuding innate nobility, the other a proud defiance. Tension crackled between them.

Han Zhong broke out in a cold sweat, desperate to ease the situation. Before he could speak, Nangong Ao broke the silence. “From tomorrow on, you report directly to me.”

Jiang Mohe holstered his baton, responding solemnly, “The salary must match.”

“Twice the captain’s pay.”

Han Zhong was at a loss for words.

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Two days later, Nangong Ao sat in the president’s office of ZR Group, reading Jiang Mohe’s personnel file. There was little recorded about his life before age fifteen, only rumors that he had been a casualty in a family feud. After being cast out, he couldn’t survive in his homeland and drifted to Country K, struggling in the slums for two years before joining a band of friends to become mercenaries.

Three months ago, as war flared in Country K, Han Zhong’s younger brother—also a mercenary—was killed. Jiang Mohe, having fought alongside him, fulfilled his dying wish by bringing his ashes home. Afterward, Han Zhong brought Jiang Mohe into the Nangong family’s security team.

He was taciturn and cold, but highly skilled—earning Han Zhong’s respect and always performing his duties with utmost diligence. Since returning to China, he had never contacted the Jiang family.

After Nangong Ao finished reading, the file on his computer immediately self-destructed. He massaged his brow, eyes half-closed, when Cui Hao, his sycophantic assistant, asked, “Boss, would you like some tea?”

Cui Hao, though not especially capable, was loyal and reliable, always attentive to Nangong Ao’s needs. He knew some of the family’s secrets: for instance, that the Nangong family only drank tea, never coffee. The last assistant had been dismissed two years ago for presumptuously bringing Nangong Ao coffee instead of tea.

Cui Hao never presumed to guess his boss’s thoughts, leaving the more complicated matters to Bai Luomei, the boss’s trusted aide.

Lately, Nangong Ao had been particularly weary—not only because Bai Luomei was away but also due to the constant pressure from his grandmother.

Opening his deep blue eyes, Nangong Ao asked, “Is today Yun’er’s checkup?”

Cui Hao checked the boss’s important schedule on his tablet and replied, “Yes, it was set for ten this morning. It should be over by now.”

It was nearly five o’clock. If the boss went now, he might catch up and have lunch together.

Nangong Ao had the same thought and was about to speak when his phone rang on the desk. His long, pale fingers slid to answer it. On the other end, Bai Luomei’s voice came through: “Boss, there’s a situation here…”