I'm in Mota, and they all want me to confess my feelings!

Throwing the question back at them is indeed the best response.

After a short wait, Cantrela sent another message: "[Remember to be moderate. Going too far will harm your health. Speaking of harming your health, I happen to have some secret medicine for this purpose. Want to try some?]"

Duanmu Yan was taken aback when he saw the reply.

How did Cantrella know?

Could she have planted a surveillance camera on me?

Instead of those things, let's talk about the surprise you gave me.

Cantreira: [Sigh, I really envy Koleta. But if you tell her about a surprise, is it still a surprise? Since you want this surprise so badly, come find me here.]

An address was attached, located near Bank Street.

Remember to hurry!

The time of the head of the Fesalie family is very limited.

“…Cantrell’s surprise?” Duanmu Yan murmured softly.

He knew Cantrella—although she always flirted with flippant remarks, she never made a big deal out of serious matters.

Since they specifically mentioned a surprise, they must have prepared something worth looking forward to.

So go check it out.

Duanmu Yan left the room, washed up in the bathroom, put on his clothes, and prepared to leave.

He neatly straightened his collar, but when he opened the door, he was met with a beautiful woman in crimson.

Floro rubbed her sore forehead and frowned, but before she could complain, he hurriedly interrupted her: "Sorry, I have something urgent to do right now. If you're hungry, just order takeout and put it on my tab."

"Wait--"

Before the words were even finished, the person had already swept across the corridor like a gust of wind.

Floro stared blankly as he disappeared around the corner, and the sound of a door closing heavily came from the entrance hall, making the floor tremble slightly.

She stood alone in the empty living room, where light and shadow met.

His wine-red pupils reflected the slightly swaying door panel, as if he could still see his departing figure.

After a long while, she slowly raised her hand and pressed it against her chest, where something was slowly falling with the sound of receding footsteps.

"……asshole."

Volume 1: Chapter 180 The Episode Fu Nuonuo Hates the Most

The sky was overcast, and the air was thick with the dampness that comes before rain; every breath felt sticky and heavy.

Perhaps soon, a torrential rain will fall from the sky and wash away everything in the world.

"It should be right here."

Duanmu Yan stopped and looked at the street in front of him, which was only one alley away from Bank Street.

Although they are not far apart, the atmosphere is completely different—this is the territory of the Fesalie family in Laguna.

Just like the Motari neighborhood, the Fesari family, being the oldest family in Laguna, also has its own territory.

Although the Motari family is now more powerful and the Fesari family has lost its glory, it is only natural that the Motari family, an old and established family with a rich heritage, still has its own place in the city.

Just as the Motari family owns its own neighborhood, the Fesari, as one of the oldest families in Laguna, has also left its mark on the city.

Although the Motari family is currently at its zenith, and the glory of the Fesari family is no longer what it once was, the family's century-old heritage is beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

However, most of the Fesari people still prefer the tranquility of Portivino Castle outside the city.

Just as Duanmu Yan was standing in front of the street entrance, pondering how to meet Cantrella, a familiar figure appeared in front of him.

Sebastian was dressed in a sharp, dark uniform, his hair neatly combed.

He stopped three steps away, pressed his right hand lightly to his left chest, and bowed: "Lord Duanmu, I have been waiting here for quite some time on the orders of the patriarch."

Duanmu Yan looked at him and then nodded: "Yes, take me to the patriarch."

"As you wish."

Duanmu Yan followed Sebastian into a large mansion.

The two walked silently down the empty corridor, their footsteps swallowed by the heavy carpet, with only the wall lamps casting swaying shadows.

Finally, they stopped in front of a door, and Sebastian stepped aside to make way.

"The head of the family is waiting in the study."

Then, Duanmu Yan raised his hand and gently knocked on the door.

"come in."

Cantrell's voice was like honey-soaked waves, languid yet expectant.

He pushed open the door and entered, and a cool, refreshing fragrance wafted towards him—unlike the sweet and cloying incense of the past, this scent was like a flower blooming under the moonlight, possessing a magical power to calm the mind.

"This smell..."

"So, do you like it?" Cantrela leaned back on the sofa, a half-read book of poetry still between her fingers. The glass lamp cast dappled light on her earrings. "I modified a part of the family's secret recipe to create this incense."

"Yes, I like it."

Is there any other option besides this answer?

Duanmu Yan walked up to Cantrella and sat down on the sofa in front of her.

Cantrela put down her book, snapped her fingers, and a small jellyfish emitting a faint glow appeared from the void. It wrapped its translucent tentacles around the porcelain pot and poured a cup of tea for Duanmu Yan.

"You arrived quite quickly." Cantrell suddenly leaned closer, her tone somewhat subtle. "Didn't your second young lady stop you?"

"The second young lady is not here."

"Oh, I see." Cantrela feigned sudden realization and pondered, "So, does this mean the little guest was sneaking a bite?"

Duanmu Yan was already used to her teasing, and met her gaze without changing his expression: "How can it be considered stealing if I haven't even tasted it yet?"

Upon hearing this, Cantrela paused for a moment, then covered her mouth and chuckled: "So, little guest, you're already planning to sneak a bite?"

As she spoke, she moved even closer again.

Duanmu Yan's breathing became slightly sluggish.

The overwhelming sense of oppression emanated through the fabric, a stark contrast to the girl's innocent touch.

He suddenly remembered the still-growing curve of Koleta's figure and couldn't help but compare it silently in his mind—

Can the second young lady's future also be so great?

"Ahem—" He forced himself to look away. "Miss Cantrella, how about we talk about business first? Like... the surprise you mentioned?"

"Why are you suddenly changing the subject?" Cantrella's lips curled into a slight smile. "Does our little guest have the desire but not the courage?"

Don't you have the guts to steal?

What a joke!

Just for now...

Because the second young lady squeezed me too hard yesterday, not a single drop was left.

Therefore, Duanmu Yan is currently willing but unable to do so.

"I'm just a little powerless," he said frankly, meeting her gaze with a hint of helpless honesty.

He had long since learned not to feign modesty in front of Cantrellella.

If she's not afraid, then why should I be afraid?

Anyway, I won't lose out.

Cantrela was slightly taken aback by his words, then leaned closer to his neck, closed her eyes, and gently sniffed: "Hmm... even though you've taken a shower, I can still smell it, that... the scent of being completely possessed."

After saying that, she moved back a few steps, returning to the sofa, and sighed softly, "Ah, I really envy Koleta. It seems I'm still a step too late. But—"

As she finished speaking, Cantrela drew out the last syllable slightly, her pink tongue brushing across her lips like a jellyfish tentacles probing its prey.

She refocused her gaze on Duanmu Yan, her fingertips lightly touching her cheek, a meaningful smile blooming on her face: "I don't care about these things. Such a special guest as my little one shouldn't be monopolized by anyone. Even a jellyfish in the deep sea sometimes longs for the warmth of the light."

Her gaze slowly moved down, finally landing on his lower abdomen, her voice filled with anticipation: "I'm really curious to see what kind of unique being our future bloodline will give birth to."

Duanmu Yan looked helpless: "Nothing has happened yet, Patriarch, you're thinking too far ahead."

“That’s only now, I’m talking about—” She rose and leaned closer, whispering in Duanmu Yan’s ear, “But what about the future?”

The room fell into a brief silence, with only the fragrance of incense swirling in the air.

Cantrellella snapped her fingers gracefully, and several small jellyfish, shimmering with a faint blue light, gracefully carried a carved wooden box to the scene.

“Now, it’s my turn to express my gratitude.” Cantrell’s fingertips lightly traced the exquisite wooden box. “This is a gift I specially prepared to thank you for your help last time.”

"Gift?"

"Why don't you open it and take a look for yourself?"

The moment Duanmu Yan lifted the lid of the box, his breath hitched slightly.

A longsword lay quietly on a black velvet cushion, or rather, it didn't look like a weapon, but more like... a work of art.

Duanmu Yan's pupils contracted slightly: "What is this?"

"A blood oath." Cantrell's explanation came closer, accompanied by the rustling of fabric, "symbolizing your unbreakable vow to the Faisal family."

"This weapon is forged from the finest black stone. It can cut through iron like mud and also has a suppressive effect on residual images."

Duanmu Yan's fingertips hovered above the sword hilt, and he could feel faint energy fluctuations. This weapon was indeed just what he needed.

“Each head of the family can only commission one sword in their lifetime.” She suddenly grasped his wrist, guiding him to touch the hilt, and whispered in his ear, “This is a gift. But—”

"—It's not just a gift."

Volume 1: Chapter 181 Cantrela is Stealing Food

If it's not just a gift, then what could it be?

Duanmu Yan did not ask.

Perhaps, Yi Qiqi Wu Jiusi Jiuba already had the answer in his heart.

Cantrell sat quietly beside him, so close.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on the young man's handsome profile for a long time.

"So, do you like it?" Her voice was very soft.

Duanmu was slightly startled by the sound, as if he had been awakened from a brief reverie.

He nodded immediately, his gaze returning to the longsword in the box, which gleamed with a dark light: "Yes, I like it. But..."

"Just?" Cantrella's voice trailed off slightly, tinged with amusement.

Duanmu Yan raised his hand and scratched his cheek somewhat embarrassedly, his tone hesitant: "Is this gift too expensive?"

“Valuable?” Cantrera covered her mouth with the back of her hand, letting out a very soft laugh. Her eyes gleamed with a deeper mockery. “Compared to your help to Fesari, this is nothing more than a trivial gift. Or perhaps…”

She paused deliberately, her body leaning slightly towards him, bringing with it a faint, lingering fragrance.

"You mean you think that a single 'Blood Oath' isn't enough for you? So, are you subtly hinting that you want... more?"

Before she finished speaking, her slender hand, clad in an exquisite silk glove, had already gently reached out.

Her fingertips lightly touched his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, and then, with an irresistible yet slow motion, gradually slid down his chest.

She stopped there, her fingertips stopping just above his lower abdomen, and didn't go any further.

Duanmu Yan took a deep breath. Fortunately, he had good self-control and finally suppressed the raging flame at the last moment.

Of course, the main reason is that I was exploited too much by the second young lady yesterday.

"No reaction at all?" Cantrela's gaze swept downwards almost imperceptibly, then she puffed out her cheeks slightly as if in a huff, her voice tinged with a hint of resentment, "You... could it be that I really have absolutely no appeal to you?"

"It's just because I'm too tired," he said, downplaying the issue.

"Too tired?" Cantrell's narrow eyes narrowed slightly, her cautious gaze sweeping over his face. "Last night you and Koleta... well, anyway, to be so indifferent in front of a lady is quite impolite."

She spoke with righteous indignation, as if Duanmu Yan had truly committed some unforgivable crime.

"You call this... a lady?" he couldn't help but ask in a low voice.

Cantrell was still smiling, but there was no warmth in her smile: "What, do you have a problem with that?"