Chapter 3: The Prodigal Brother Walks Into a Trap

The air inside the Su Family residence was thick enough to cut with a knife. Twilight had fully settled, sealing off the world beyond the heavy, vermilion-lacquered gates. But it couldn’t block the suffocating stagnation brewing inside. In the center of the living room, the crystal chandelier drooped its complex tassels, casting a dim, murky glow that stretched Su Hao’s hunched shadow long across the floor.

Liu Lan sat ramrod straight on the center of the rosewood sofa, radiating a coldness that pushed people away. Her pale face looked grim under the yellowed light, like it was about to rain. Su Hao stood off to the side, clutching the hem of his clothes so tightly his knuckles were white. He kept his head down, terrified to make a single sound. Cold sweat trickled down his temples, soaking into his collar.

*Crack!*

The sharp sound shattered the dead silence. Liu Lan smashed her purple clay teacup on the floor. Hot tea splattered mixed with black ceramic shards, instantly soaking into the off-white carpet. She didn’t bother to wipe it up. Instead, she raised a finger, her hand trembling slightly as she pointed at Su Hao. Her voice cut through the oppressive air like a blade.

“Out late again, huh?” Liu Lan snapped at Su Hao, fury exploding. Her gaze felt physical, loaded with years of accumulated disappointment and resentment, nailing him in place.

“Mom, I was just thinking things through,” Su Hao stammered, trying to defend himself. His voice was a squeak, fragile in the echoing silence of the room. He darted his eyes away, too scared to look directly into his mother’s bloodshot eyes.

“Shut up! Go kneel in the ancestral hall!” Liu Lan let out a cold laugh, blocking every escape route. There was no warmth in that laugh, only the sharp sound of ice cracking, dripping with absolute authority.

She grabbed her phone and dialed Su Hao’s number. Her tone was ice-cold and non-negotiable. The ringtone blared obscenely in the living room. Su Hao flinched, trembling as he fished out his phone. He answered, and as he heard his mother’s mechanical, cold orders on the other end, his face went ghost-white.

He looked around, then at Liu Lan, who was sitting opposite him, elegantly refilling her teacup. A wave of despair washed over him. He quickly gathered his things, grabbed his jacket, and stumbled backward toward the door. Liu Lan hung up, placing the phone gently on the coffee table. Her eyes held a ruthless determination; she wouldn’t rest until her goal was achieved.

She didn’t stand up. She just watched Su Hao’s back disappear through the doorway, her fingers tapping a slow, dangerous rhythm on the armrest. Su Hao paused outside the door, taking a deep breath of the night air. He smelled the harsh, cheap perfume trying to mask his own tension. Liu Lan laughed coldly. The layout was already set.

He pushed open the iron gate, his figure merging into the night.

At the entrance of an old alleyway, moisture seeped from the gaps between the blue flagstones, condensing into tiny water droplets. The wind carried the damp smell of mold, mixed with the lingering scent of burning incense from a distance—nauseating. Su Ling stood deep in the shadows, her figure slender, as if the wind could just blow her apart.

Her nose twitched. Amidst the chaotic, mundane scents of the streets, she caught something unusual. A faint but incredibly pure scent of Wealth Flow cut through the muck, hitting her brain like a drop of clear spring water in muddy sludge. The corner of her mouth curled into a cold, sardonic smile. A hint of mischief flickered in her eyes.

This was exactly the trap she had set up. It looked clumsy, but it was just enough to lure that household dog right in. She adjusted her breathing, smoothing her expression back into her usual soft, cute guise, waiting quietly for the prey to show up.

The roar of a modified sports car engine approached, like the low growl of a beast, brutally crushing the alley’s peace. Bright headlights pierced the darkness. The car skidded to a halt at the end of the alley, tires screeching against the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and sludge.

Su Hao jumped out. His once-exquisite suit was now coated in dust and mud spots. He disgustedly swatted at his clothes, trying to brush off the grime, only smearing it around more. He lifted his chin, glancing at the dusty sack at Su Ling’s feet with a look of pure contempt. He looked at it like it was a pile of trash.

Su Hao spat. “Su Ling, aren’t you dead yet? What, did you switch careers to beggar? This dump is all rats and stinking drains. You think you even belong standing here?” His tone was dripping with superiority. The corner of his mouth was pulled down, his eyes openly radiating disdain.

Su Ling didn’t look up. She slowly lowered herself to a crouch. Her plain-colored long dress looked strikingly clean against the muddy ground. She pulled a sheet of yellowed kraft paper out of the sack. Her movements were as elegant as unwrapping a top-tier gift. Her slender, pale fingers slowly unfolded the paper, revealing an ancient jade comb that had broken into two sections, covered in long-gathered dust.

The jade color was warm and glossy. Even broken, it still carried a heavy, ancient vibe.

In an instant, a cool, mysterious fragrance spread through the air. It wasn’t some common incense. It was a scent that seemed to wash away dust and calm the soul. It pierced the alley’s dampness and rot, drilling straight into Su Hao’s nostrils.

Su Hao’s contemptuous gaze froze. His pupils dilated. The fragrance acted like an invisible hand, gripping the deepest parts of his greed and restlessness. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his throat tightening.

Su Hao leaned in half a step. His fingers twitched with desire. His voice warped with excitement, a barely noticeable tremor slipping into his rough tone: “What the hell is this junk? It smells amazing. Where did you steal it?” His eyes were locked on the jade comb. The mockery in them had been replaced by fervor.

Su Ling raised her head. Her eyes were still soft, innocent, and harmless, clear as if she were just an innocent girl. But her voice was pitched low, filled with certainty and mystery, like a hypnotic incantation. “This is the Soul-Stabilizing Comb used exclusively by the previous dynasty’s imperial family. The break hides a secret dragon pattern. That cough you did just now disturbed the treasure’s energy. Pity.”

Su Hao’s blood boiled. His head was full of fantasies of mountains of gold and silver. He completely forgot his mother’s warnings, and didn't care about the potential dangers hiding in this deep alley. He lunged forward with both hands to grab it. The moment his fingertips touched the cold edge of the jade comb, a burst of high-concentration Wealth Flow mixed with hallucinogenic gas exploded. It hit him like fire in his throat, burning through his reason.

Su Hao’s body jerked. Stars spun in his vision. The blue flagstones beneath his feet seemed to vanish. His hand slipped. The jade comb flew out of his grip, tracing a graceful arc through the air. Moonlight poured over the jade surface, refracting a cold halo. Then, in the next second, that halo fell into the darkness. It landed precisely and heavily into a stinking, murky puddle of sewage in the alley corner.

*Splish.* A dull, desperate sound. The splash of muddy, rotten-smelling water splattered Su Hao’s face. He shrieked, leaping back, retreating three steps. He stared in horror at the filthy puddle. Rotting leaves and garbage floated on the surface. Black liquid slowly swirled, swallowing the last bit of the jade comb’s brilliance.

A wave of massive panic and anger surged through Su Hao. It felt like someone had stomped on his heart.

Su Hao roared at Su Ling, his voice shrilling and cracking from rage: “You bitch, Su Ling! You’re deliberately harming people! That was an incredible treasure! Falling into this filth ruined it! Can you even afford to pay for it?” He pointed at the puddle, his hand shaking. He wanted to jump in and fish it out, but the stench forced him to stumble backward again and again.

Su Ling watched coldly, a smirk of mockery on her lips. She stood up and brushed imaginary dust off her skirt hem. Her movements were composed and elegant, completely out of place in the surroundings. Her tone was leisurely, as if stating a mundane fact, cutting through the noise.

Su Ling said coolly: “Jade combs fear moisture, not dirt. As long as you wash it in clear water and dry it, its core value remains intact. But you... you dirtied it, and you dirtied your own hands. That’s the real loss.” Her eyes were calm, rippling with a superior, controlling dominance.

Su Hao froze. He looked at the black sewage, then at Su Ling’s clear eyes, which hid depths no one could see. In that moment, reason and greed fought a brutal war in his head. To save face, to prove he wasn’t just a greedy, undisciplined trust fund kid, and for that “wealth” within reach, he gritted his teeth. Swallowing his pride, he crouched down.

Passersby pointed and muttered. Diners hiding in shadows peeked out, their eyes full of pity and ridicule, buzzing with gossip. Su Hao ignored them. He plunged his hand into the sewage. The muddy water was icy and bone-chilling, reeking of a rot that made his stomach turn. It felt like a million writhing snakes coiling around his fingertips.

His hand shook in the murky current. Sludge worked into his fingernail crevices, causing intense discomfort. Finally, his fingertips brushed against that familiar cold sensation. Hard, smooth. That was the broken edge of the jade comb.

Su Hao felt a surge of joy. He was about to exert force to lift it out, but his hand spun in the slippery mud. His movement was too aggressive, his balance off. He stumbled. His center of gravity shifted.

*Click.* A light snap, clear as a bone breaking in the dead-silent alley.

The tail of the jade comb slammed hard against the stone edge. The already-broken edge chipped off another piece. Shards mixed with muddy water splattered. The bone-chilling glint of the jade flickered in the sewage, then was completely swallowed by the darkness.

Su Hao clutched the ruined jade comb, stiff in place. His face was coated in mud, water, regret, and fear, dripping from his chin. He looked up and saw Su Ling watching him silently. Her gaze was sharp like a knife, recording this farce. Su Ling didn’t wear even a trace of smugness. She just watched him coldly, inspecting him like a prey caught in a trap.

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