Chapter 67: The Secret of the Nangong Family

A figure leaned sideways against the railing of the outdoor balcony, a faint ember flickering between the fingers of his right hand, while his other hand rested casually in his pocket. The fringe, dampened by the morning dew, hung over his resolute brow, his profile as sharply cut as a blade, hidden beneath the interplay of light and shadow. When the ember near his lips, habitually pressed thin, released tendrils of smoke, his features grew even more indistinct.

In that moment, Jiang Mohe appeared languid and mysterious—a side of him Xianyu Jing had never seen before, starkly different from the strong, unwavering man of her memories.

Perhaps sensing Xianyu Jing’s gaze, Jiang Mohe pressed out the ember between his fingers. Only after the lingering scent dissipated did he open the balcony’s glass door and step inside.

Xianyu Jing caught a faint whiff of tobacco—not unpleasant, but rather invigorating.

Jiang Mohe glanced at the slight redness at the corners of her eyes and spoke softly, “It’s the weekend. Why not sleep a bit longer?”

“No need.”

It had been a rare, dreamless night, and Xianyu Jing felt quite refreshed. He, on the other hand, had spent the night watching over her, and must be exhausted.

“I’ll take over now. You should get some rest.”

Xianyu Jing saw that Nangong Ao’s breathing was growing steadier and his complexion much improved; there shouldn’t be any further trouble.

Jiang Mohe went downstairs, and in less than ten minutes, returned with two cartons of milk and a cake.

He opened one for himself and handed the other to Xianyu Jing. “Aunt Rong just got up. Let’s make do with this for breakfast.”

Xianyu Jing accepted it, went back to her room to brush her teeth and change clothes. After eating breakfast in her own room, she walked over to Nangong Ao’s bedroom.

Upon entering, she saw that Nangong Ao was already awake, sitting up in bed.

“Big brother,” Xianyu Jing called, “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded to her. “Yes, I’m fine now.”

“That’s good.” Xianyu Jing breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you hungry? Should I ask Aunt Rong to bring you some porridge?”

“No need.”

“Oh.” Xianyu Jing suddenly remembered that those in the Nangong family were rather resilient against hunger.

“I’m all right now. Thank you for staying with me through the night. Go rest,” Nangong Ao said, his complexion still pale and his voice softer than usual.

Knowing he needed to recuperate in peace, Xianyu Jing did not linger.

As soon as she left the room, Nangong Ao turned to Jiang Mohe and asked, “Did you have Bai Luomei investigate?”

“Yes.”

As soon as Nangong Ao’s incident occurred last night, Jiang Mohe had immediately called Bai Luomei.

When Nangong Ao awoke, he found investigation materials sent by Bai Luomei on his phone, including surveillance footage from the banquet—which, at first glance, showed nothing out of the ordinary.

“What do you think?” Nangong Ao asked.

Jiang Mohe had also received the video and replied, “There was something wrong with the secretary’s wine.”

“The wine?”

Nangong Ao recalled the scene: the secretary of Zhai Muli had spilled wine onto Cui Hao, but never touched him.

“These days, there are drugs that are colorless and tasteless, and after evaporating, can be inhaled through the air,” Jiang Mohe explained. “But the amount inhaled isn’t much, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless something acts as a catalyst.”

Nangong Ao’s expression grew grave. Something… With so many people present, the drug only affected him—was it because he needed to take the special blood serum?

Could Zhai Muli have discovered even this? He had truly underestimated him!

“Do you know how to counter it?” Nangong Ao asked.

Jiang Mohe considered before answering, “The fastest way is to eliminate whatever catalyzes the drug.”

Not take the blood serum? That was impossible.

The Nangong family was born with unique genes; without periodic doses of that blood serum, their body temperature would plummet and they’d lapse into a dormant state.

Only the Nangong family knew this secret—yet now, even the Zhai family had learned it.

“No other way?”

Jiang Mohe hesitated. “I know of an antidote, but it has side effects.”

“What side effects?”

“It induces uncontrollable desire.”

“…”

Nangong Ao naturally understood what this meant. It might be acceptable for him, but if the target was his sister…

Clearly, the solution lay in improving the blood serum itself.

Nangong Ao sighed quietly. “Prepare it for now.”

Then he asked suddenly, “You seem quite knowledgeable about medicine?”

Jiang Mohe lowered his gaze. “I once had a comrade—a genius in medicine.”

“Oh?” Nangong Ao regarded him searchingly. “Where is he now?”

“…Dead.”

In that fierce and tragic battle, many comrades who had lived and died alongside him perished—even some he’d barely known for a few days.

Though Nangong Ao still harbored doubts about Jiang Mohe’s past, his principle was to pursue mutual benefit, not to expect total transparency from him.

“You know what methods the Nangong family uses against betrayers.” This was Nangong Ao’s final reminder and warning.

Jiang Mohe looked up, his eyes as deep and dark as ink, unwavering: “Rather die than break my promise.”

This was the ancestral creed of the Jiang family: they rarely submit to others, but once they give their word, they never break it. It was also the code of their mercenary trade.

That was what Nangong Ao valued most in him.

Yet, rules aside, Jiang Mohe was still human—humans have needs and weaknesses. For now, Nangong Ao hadn’t found his weakness.

But his need was simply to ensure he could establish himself in his homeland, free from threats by his own family. The Nangong family could provide that, so Nangong Ao need not worry about Jiang Mohe betraying him.

“I hope we can coexist and prosper together,” Nangong Ao said.

Jiang Mohe nodded solemnly.

“Young master!”

Aunt Rong’s voice sounded from outside. “I’ve made some vegetable and meat porridge—have some first, please.”

Though Xianyu Jing had relayed his words earlier, how could Aunt Rong possibly ignore him?

“Aunt Rong, please come in.”

As soon as Nangong Ao spoke, Jiang Mohe opened the door and Aunt Rong entered, carrying steaming porridge.

Just as Jiang Mohe was about to leave, Aunt Rong called, “Little Jiang, I made extra porridge—come have some too.”

Probably only Aunt Rong dared to invite the servants to eat with the master. But she was no ordinary servant; Nangong Ao seldom contradicted her.

Jiang Mohe thanked her and went downstairs.

As Aunt Rong prepared the bowl and chopsticks for young master, she grumbled, “Young master, you really scared all of us last night!”

“Sorry for worrying you.”

Since the passing of Nangong Ao’s parents, Aunt Rong had cared for him like family. Nangong Ao held her in high regard.

“Thank goodness Little Jiang was here—otherwise, we wouldn’t have known what to do!”

Aunt Rong still felt a lingering fear, then grew indignant. “Who could be so wicked as to harm you like this?”

Nangong Ao didn’t want Aunt Rong to worry needlessly, so he simply ate his porridge and said no more.

Aunt Rong only complained for a bit; she knew not to meddle in the Nangong family’s affairs.

But some things, she could mention. For example:

“Young master, Miss Xianyu was very worried when she saw you fall ill last night. She kept watch for you the whole night.”