Chapter 20: Retribution
In recent days, Han Qi had been plagued by bouts of dizziness. That morning, there was a sketching class; all the students were gathered outside, easels raised, capturing the scenery. Though he had taken the Shadow-Devouring Pellet, Han Qi felt an oppressive heat, his body temperature steadily rising, vision blurring. He shook his head, braced himself against the easel, and struggled to support his weary body.
What was happening? Everything had seemed normal lately, nothing out of the ordinary. As Han Qi thought in a haze, a sudden burning pain seared his fingertips. Glancing down, he saw ten charred fingerprints scorched onto the white paper beneath his hand. Startled, he sprang to his feet, the easel crashing to the ground. The noise drew curious stares from those around him—humans, unable to see the burn marks on the paper, remained oblivious. But vampires could.
Mu Chuan approached, concern evident. “Are you alright?”
Han Qi seemed not to hear, staring blankly at his hands. Mu Chuan followed his gaze and, to his shock, saw Han Qi’s ten fingers oozing a dark, bluish blood.
Mu Chuan was a noble of the Crimson Blood, though his rank was not as high as the military physician’s. Still, he immediately recognized the symptoms. He placed a reassuring arm around Han Qi’s shoulder, ignoring the onlookers, and guided him indoors.
Once out of the harsh sunlight, Han Qi felt marginally better. He looked up at Mu Chuan. “Thank you.”
Mu Chuan’s brow furrowed, clearly torn about whether to speak. Sensing his unease, Han Qi pressed, “Do you know what’s causing this?”
Mu Chuan forced a thin smile, declining to answer.
Han Qi didn’t insist. “If you don’t want to say, that’s fine.” He rose shakily, as if to leave.
“You really shouldn’t be in the sun right now.”
Han Qi nodded but headed outside anyway.
Mu Chuan gritted his teeth and finally confessed, “Your symptoms resemble backlash.”
Han Qi halted abruptly, turning rigidly. “Backlash?”
“The blood in your body is decreasing. But because you’re a Blood Key, the process is slow—so you’re still alive. An ordinary vampire would have died long ago...”
In that moment, the world seemed to spin. Han Qi staggered, barely steadying himself. Mu Chuan rushed over, catching him just in time. Han Qi grasped his hand, demanding, “You just said... destruction of the original form?”
“Perhaps I’m mistaken... You are a Blood Key, so you shouldn’t... die...”
Han Qi drew a deep breath, struggling to calm himself. Eventually, he released Mu Chuan’s hand and walked unsteadily toward the door.
“Han Qi, where are you going?”
“Just home. Please tell them I’m taking a leave.”
Han Qi hailed a taxi home. The driver, seeing his pallor and bloodless lips, kindly asked if he needed to go straight to the hospital. Han Qi smiled, shook his head, and gave his address. Once home, he collapsed onto the sofa, drained, and called Li Ye, asking him to come.
He wasn’t ready for Su Ye to know. As Marshal of the Blood Clan, Su Ye was often busy, handling interspecies affairs. Lately, there had been a string of human disappearances, with the Hunter family demanding frequent meetings.
Most importantly, if Su Ye learned of this, he might lose control, lash out, and start a massacre for Han Qi’s sake. Han Qi never wanted to witness a blood-soaked storm again. It was best to consult the military physician first.
It so happened that when Li Ye arrived, Su Ye returned as well. He kissed Han Qi’s cheek and asked Li Ye, “What brings you here?”
Li Ye couldn’t help but grumble internally—wasn’t that loaded with possessiveness? He was about to answer when Han Qi shot him a look, prompting him to clear his throat.
Han Qi quickly interjected, “I called him.”
Su Ye’s brow creased. “Are you ill?”
“No... not really. He just came by to chat.”
Su Ye eyed him suspiciously. “Is that so?”
“Yeah... just to talk...”
“You’re not telling the truth.”
“I am,” Han Qi’s mind raced for a plausible excuse, and then inspiration struck. “I might be... expecting, so I asked Li Ye to check on me...”
Both Li Ye and Su Ye were stunned.
The atmosphere turned peculiarly quiet. Han Qi gave an awkward chuckle, tugging at Su Ye’s sleeve. “...You’re not happy?”
Su Ye’s expression was a mix of amusement and exasperation. He asked gravely, “Can’t you just be honest with me?”
Han Qi’s heart skipped a beat. How did Su Ye know he wasn’t telling the truth? Perhaps it was a test. Han Qi considered, then decided to stick with the lie.
“I think... I might be pregnant. Lately, I keep vomiting after eating...”
Su Ye seemed to see through him, leaning back on the sofa and remarking, “Blood Clan doesn’t experience morning sickness like humans.”
Han Qi’s face flushed scarlet.
Su Ye went on, “Besides, I never intended for you to bear children, so I’ve always been careful...”
Han Qi blurted out, “So all those times... were for nothing?”
Su Ye was about to reply when Li Ye coughed—was this really appropriate in his presence? Realizing how shocking his words were, Han Qi wished he could vanish into the floor and remained silent, face burning.
He’d intended to send Su Ye away, but now Su Ye was relentless. “Has something happened?”
Han Qi drew a deep breath, determined not to yield, and spoke.
“Actually, I really do want a child. But it’s never happened, so I thought maybe something’s wrong with me...”
He cast a deliberately embarrassed glance at Su Ye, whose expression darkened. After a long pause, Su Ye said quietly, “For that child, you might die.”
The immortal lineage of the Blood Key might not withstand the fate of Su Ye’s bloodline. Su Ye dared not gamble—and he was unwilling to risk it. He’d felt the agony of his heart being torn apart during that ancient calamity, and never wished to endure it again.
Because Su Ye held his ground, Han Qi had to set the matter aside. Late that night, after confirming Su Ye was asleep, Han Qi slipped out, dressed and shod, into the night.
“Blossom Banquet” was still open, its dim, golden lights glowing inside. Han Qi pushed open the door. Li Ye sat elegantly, fingers intertwined, clearly awaiting him.
“What did you need tonight?”
“I seem to be showing... symptoms of backlash.”
Li Ye’s pupils contracted; he sprang to his feet, gripping Han Qi’s shoulders. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”
“During the day I’m always dizzy, and in sunlight... I bleed...”
At those words, Li Ye released him, as if drained. His expression turned bleak and rigid as he turned away. “Come with me.”
Over time, the underground nursery, once a flower house, had grown into a dense forest. The immense rose vine sprawled like a mountain range.
Han Qi stared, speechless in awe.
Li Ye’s voice was heavy with fatigue. “You should be alright.”
Han Qi turned, suspicious. “Are you hiding something from me?”
Li Ye’s face was calm but betrayed his inner anxiety; he was visibly pale.
“To defy fate always exacts a price. I didn’t expect to drag you into this.”
“What do you mean?”
Li Ye sighed deeply. “Male vampires can’t bear offspring. To accomplish this, we must pay a price. And that price—we take from humans.”
“Is it connected to the recent disappearances?”
“It’s not disappearances. They’re dead.” When discussing human life and death, Li Ye’s expression was cold. “Their blood has already become the ‘nutrient fluid’ for nurturing newborns. They are sacrifices.”
“The Crimson Blood nobility—your bodies are perfect vessels. The child is born within you, so there’s no need to harm the mother or drain her blood.”
A chilling dread crawled up from Han Qi’s feet; he shivered uncontrollably, but what chilled him more was Li Ye’s indifferent face.
It was nothing less than a premeditated murder.
“When human blood fails to satisfy newborn vampires, they turn to the mother, causing backlash,” Li Ye’s face was pale as he spoke. “I never thought it would happen to you—perhaps because you’re the source of the Blood Clan bloodline...”
Suddenly, Li Ye dropped to his knees, grasping Han Qi’s hand, pleading, “Give me a little more time. There will be a way—I promise you’ll be alright.”
Han Qi, recovering from shock, grew somber.
“Trust me—it can be done.”
Han Qi gave a wan smile. “Li Ye, get up.”
But Li Ye remained kneeling, stubbornly insisting, “Believe in me!”
“Actually, it’s not my death that concerns me...”
An endless life is its own punishment; such boundless time renders vampires a lonely, cold race. Human lives are brief, making their warmth all the more precious. In his twenty years as a human, Han Qi experienced that warmth countless times. If he could choose, he’d rather be human—a short-lived but brilliant spark—than condemned to endless twilight.
He loved humanity—loved them deeply.
Han Qi blinked, tears falling silently. “Revenge is a dead cycle. Why must innocent souls be traded for the birth of new vampires?”
Li Ye looked at him in surprise. “Have you forgotten what caused your death centuries ago?”
“Of course I remember—how could I forget the pain of annihilation?”
“Then why...”
Han Qi suddenly shouted, “Does that justify killing?”
His mind flashed with memories of the recent bloodbath, Su Ye standing amidst a rain of blood, his expression icy as ever. Han Qi instinctively linked the events, horrified by his own thoughts—yet they seemed all too true.
“Did you all know about this plan—except me?”
Li Ye pleaded, “Han Qi, don’t... I promise you’ll be alright.”
“Answer me.”
Li Ye lowered his head. “It’s just me and...”
“This plan,” a familiar voice interjected. Li Ye looked up as Su Ye approached, fixing his gaze on Han Qi. “We all knew—except you.”
Unruffled words, a calm tone, indifferent expression—each a blade, stabbing Han Qi straight in the heart. He realized he’d been living inside a vast conspiracy: rebirth, wandering, bloodshed, killing—even meeting, understanding, loving—perhaps all part of the plan.
A profound sorrow and exhaustion washed over Han Qi, endless cold swallowing him whole.
He walked stiffly toward the door. As he passed, Su Ye grabbed his hand, but Han Qi wrenched free without looking back.
After Han Qi left, the atmosphere grew heavy.
Li Ye slowly stood, his voice hoarse. “Ye, you and Zhan didn’t know—why say that?”
Su Ye replied calmly, “Can you and Qiao Nian bear that responsibility?”
Li Ye forced composure, but his eyes reddened. He choked back a sob, lowering his head. “Marshal, I’m sorry...”
“Think about a solution.”
“It’s already unstoppable, Marshal...”
Li Ye’s words were laced with bitter cold.
Su Ye fell silent, unease rising within him.
After Su Ye left, Li Ye departed as well—but headed for a different place: the prison. Since that day, he had kept Ling Yan confined there. The room was dim, only faint light filtering through. Dense, thorny vines formed a barricade; Ling Yan could not escape.
He curled his lip in a sneer, his chilly voice emerging from the darkness. “Military physician, has the plan been exposed?”
“That was inevitable.”
Ling Yan sighed heavily. “Call it off—there’s still time.”
“Is there?”
Ling Yan peered at him through the vines. “Let me out. Maybe I can find a way with the Hunter family.”
“It’s too late now...”
Li Ye looked up, his gaze silent and resolute, carrying a deep-seated hatred. Ling Yan instinctively reached for his face, but the sharp thorns kept his hand at bay.