Recognized

The center of Forging City and the old district were two different worlds.

Skyscrapers loomed high, the streets were wide and clean, and the pedestrians were well-dressed and walked with composure.

However, the air was still quite poor, with PM2.5 levels exceeding the limit.

Yue Shi moved to the vicinity of the city center and then walked toward the garden district where the Wang family estate was located.

He held the snow leopard cub in his arms.

The little snow leopard’s eyes were half-closed as it curled up obediently in the crook of his arm.

Passersby cast glances his way, but most were filled with admiration and curiosity rather than surprise.

In this place, keeping exotic pets was a symbol of status.

Never mind a snow leopard; he had heard that someone had paraded a panda through the streets a while ago, though it was supposedly quite difficult to raise.

Yue Shi stroked the little snow leopard’s smooth fur, and a low purr vibrated against his fingertips.

Ghost was currently busy trying every possible way to kick his addiction, so he hadn't come along.

This was difficult for him because he lacked other senses.

When ordinary people quit smoking or drinking, they could alleviate the cravings by eating good food or playing games, but Ghost couldn't.

He could only endure it, grit his teeth, and suffer through.

The Wang family estate was located deep within the garden district, occupying a vast area. It was one of the few residences in Forging City that preserved traditional architectural styles.

High walls with black tiles, vermillion doors with bronze rings—the two stone lions at the entrance had their sharp edges worn down by time, yet they appeared even more imposing.

Just as Yue Shi stepped onto the bluestone steps in front of the door, the heavy gate opened silently inward.

A man who looked like a butler stood inside with his hands down, bowing slightly. "Second Young Master."

His gaze swept extremely quickly over Yue Shi's face, the snow leopard in his arms, and his entire person.

Yue Shi acted as if he hadn't noticed and stepped straight inside.

The interior of the estate was a different sight altogether, a sense of understated luxury greeting him.

The Old Master of the Wang family sat in a grand armchair, rolling a pair of glossy walnuts in his hand. His hair was gray, and his gaze was calm.

Old Madam Wang sat at the head to his side, her fingers treading over Buddhist beads, her lips slightly pursed. Her gaze fell on Yue Shi's face and then quickly shifted away.

"You're back," the Old Master of the Wang family said, his voice steady and devoid of emotion.

"Mm," Yue Shi responded indifferently, placing the snow leopard by his feet.

The snow leopard ran a few steps, looking around curiously.

Old Madam Wang’s fingertips tightened around the beads.

She remembered that her younger son didn't like furry things.

"Sit." The Old Master of the Wang family pointed to a chair below him.

Yue Shi sat down, his posture relaxed, even a bit lazy. He didn't know how Wang Er usually interacted with his parents, and he was too lazy to pretend.

A servant respectfully served tea.

It was a celadon lidded bowl, the tea soup clear and bright.

The Old Master of the Wang family picked up his tea bowl and used the lid to gently brush away the floating leaves. "You've worked hard on the group's affairs lately. You handled the funeral arrangements for your elder brother's family well."

Yue Shi picked up the tea but didn't drink, only sniffing the aroma. "The most promising eldest son and grandson of the Wang family are gone just like that. My condolences."

These words were strange and a bit stinging; they weren't the kind of things that should appear in a conversation between relatives.

Old Madam Wang’s hand, which was moving the beads, paused.

Wang Er didn't say it on the surface, but he actually doted on his eldest nephew.

Wang Hao had died a tragic death, yet he was so calm...

"You look like you're in better spirits than a while ago. How has your appetite been lately?" Old Madam Wang asked, her voice gentle.

"Quite good." Yue Shi set down the tea bowl and looked at Old Madam Wang, his smile deepening. "Perhaps it's because I've recently come to terms with some things. My mind is at ease, so everything tastes delicious."

Wang Er had never looked at her with such eyes—unmasked, cold, and distant.

"What have you come to terms with?" The Old Master of the Wang family stopped rolling the walnuts.

"I've realized many things." Yue Shi leaned his elbows on his knees.

"For example, the dead cannot be brought back to life, so grieving is useless."

"And for another, if you clutch some things too tightly, you'll end up unable to keep them anyway."

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

"You've certainly become open-minded, unlike before," the Old Master of the Wang family said slowly.

"People always change. Only paper characters in books have eternally unchanging personalities." Yue Shi leaned back against the chair, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

The rhythm of his tapping was casual, with a hint of flippancy.

Wang Er's father remembered that his younger son didn't have such a little habit when he was thinking.

Old Madam Wang’s breathing became slightly hurried as her gaze fell on Yue Shi's hands.

Those hands, with their long fingers and distinct joints, were identical to Wang Er's.

There was a faint scar on the web of Wang Er's right hand, left by a mishap while practicing martial arts in his youth.

The person before them had the same scar on his hand.

There were no flaws in his appearance, but inside...

Old Madam Wang closed her eyes, and her fingers moved the beads a bit faster.

"There are still some details regarding Little Hao's funeral that I need to discuss with you," the Old Master of the Wang family changed the subject, his tone normal.

"People from your sister-in-law's family have come, wanting an explanation."

Yue Shi chuckled. "They're all dead, so what explanation do they want? Just tell me how much money they're after."

This was said so coldly that he wasn't even acting anymore.

The Old Master of the Wang family still remained unperturbed.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, it was time for dinner.

Servants began to set the table.

The long table was laid out with exquisite dishes, mostly flavors that Wang Er had loved since childhood: Longjing shrimp, crab roe tofu. The dessert after the meal was his childhood favorite, osmanthus honey lotus root.

Yue Shi ate with great relish; he wasn't a picky eater.

As long as it wasn't something too bizarre, he could eat it.

In fact, he even dared to eat bizarre things—mutant sea turtles from the deep sea, giant crabs with human faces—he had found them delicious.

Old Madam Wang barely touched her chopsticks.

She watched the way he used them; Wang Er was used to pressing down with his index finger and supporting the bottom with his middle finger.

But the person before her used the most casual three-finger grip.

When he ate the lotus root, Old Madam Wang noticed that he didn't pick out the glutinous rice from the holes.

Wang Er had always found the glutinous rice too cloying.

Many details were screaming that something was wrong.

Halfway through the meal, the Old Master of the Wang family suddenly said, "When you were a child, you once secretly climbed the old locust tree in the courtyard, fell, and cut your head. Do you remember?"

Yue Shi smiled. "That's ancient history. Who would still remember that?"

The chopsticks in Old Madam Wang’s hand hit the table with a clatter.

She remembered. Wang Er did indeed have a very faint scar on his temple, but he never believed he got it from falling off a tree. He insisted it was from a fight with a playmate when he was seven. He had even argued with the Old Master about it several times.

He couldn't have forgotten, and he certainly couldn't have remembered it wrong.

Unless... he wasn't him.

Old Madam Wang looked up and stared intently at Yue Shi. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lips trembled; the mask she had been struggling to maintain finally cracked.

Her voice shook. "When you eat shrimp, why don't you dip them in vinegar?"

When Wang Er ate shrimp, he liked to pair them with aromatic vinegar. He liked to dip fruit in chili powder and pour sugar-free yogurt over his steak; his tastes had been quite unique since he was a child.

Yue Shi set down his chopsticks and picked up a napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth, his movements elegant.

"I just suddenly didn't feel like having vinegar. Is it so bad to change things up?"

"Change things up..." Old Madam Wang repeated those words and suddenly laughed, a shrill and wretched sound.

"My son is allergic to walnuts. He breaks out in a rash if he touches even a little bit, yet you just ate that walnut soup!"

She stood up abruptly, her chair toppling over with a piercing screech.

"Who are you?"

"Where is my son? Where has my son gone? What did you do to him!"

The doors on both sides of the hall were pushed open simultaneously.

Over a dozen figures rushed in, instantly forming an encirclement. They were dressed in uniform black clothes and held firearms; they were clearly prepared.

The muzzles were all aimed at Yue Shi at the dining table.

The Old Master of the Wang family also slowly stood up, the feigned calm on his face vanishing, replaced by grief and a twisted, murderous rage.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Why are you impersonating my son?"

"Is my child already..."

Yue Shi remained seated in his chair, even leisurely pouring himself half a cup of tea.

He blew on it gently, then looked up at the collapsing Old Madam Wang and the murderous Old Master of the Wang family, a malicious smile slowly spreading across his face.

At this moment, Wang Er's face inexplicably gave off a thick pseudo-human feel.

"Honestly," he sighed, his voice soft.

"Why did you have to expose the truth?"

"In this life, ignorance is bliss."

He took a sip of tea and met Old Madam Wang’s eyes, which were almost dripping blood, saying slowly, word by word:

"If you hadn't exposed the truth, you might have lived a little longer."

"You could have pretended your child wasn't dead."

"Self-deception can be a blessing sometimes."

"You bastard! You can keep that blessing for yourself!"

The Old Master of the Wang family finally exploded in rage, letting out a wild roar. He slammed the pair of walnuts he had been rolling for years onto the ground, shattering them instantly.

Yue Shi burst into laughter. "Don't get so angry. Getting too worked up is bad for your health."

"If I told you that your eldest son, your daughter-in-law, and your eldest grandson were also killed by me, wouldn't you die of rage?"

"Ah!" Old Madam Wang couldn't help but wail loudly.

The Old Master of the Wang family was indeed so furious that his entire body was shaking.

Yue Shi was completely unable to empathize with them; he only felt annoyed.

"Stop crying. You're crying all the luck away."

"Look at how dramatic you're being. It's just a dead son, isn't it?"

"I turned your eldest son into a dish, your eldest grandson choked to death on it, and I flayed the skin off your youngest son to wear as my own."

"Though they died quite miserably, it's a rare life experience. Most people don't get to try such a way of dying."

"Aaaaah!" The Old Master of the Wang family was numb with grief and fury, roaring madly, "Kill him! Kill him!"

No one responded.

The group of armed men in black were all frozen in place like statues.

For those who dared to point guns at Yue Shi—someone as narrow-minded as him would certainly have to send them to their deaths.

Old Madam Wang continued to cry, but the Old Master of the Wang family felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him, chilling him to the bone.

Yue Shi set down his teacup and said, "I'm not an unreasonable person. How about this? I'll give you a chance."

"I'll ask, and you answer truthfully. If the answers satisfy me, I'll grant you a merciful death..."