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Even after evolving, Xie Feng still felt frustratingly weak.
“The ability to create special items” sounded like a factory operation, as if she could endlessly produce an infinite variety of objects.
But Xie Feng knew better than anyone the limits of her abilities. The most important restriction was that she could only create one item at a time. The item’s power had to match her current ability level, and every item came with an expiration date—once that time was up, the item’s effects would vanish, returning to dust.
And those were just the limitations of her abilities. Each item also came with its own built-in constraints—some could only be used on people over 30, while others could only be used once an hour. Xie Feng had no control over what these limits would be.
Maybe she was being greedy, but the more she learned about her powers, the more unsatisfied she felt.
When she used the [Healing Lamp] on Dong Luorong, its shortcomings became painfully obvious: while it healed surface-level wounds and shallow injuries quickly, leaving her skin looking as good as new once the blood was wiped away, it couldn’t detect hidden internal damage. Both of them were almost certain that Dong Luorong was suffering from some degree of internal bleeding. The lamp’s power wasn’t nearly strong enough to heal deep injuries with just one session.
“I think my left arm might be fractured,” Dong Luorong whispered.
The warm, orange glow of the lamp bathed her pale, sweat-drenched face in a false sheen of yellow. “I can’t remember everything that happened… but I think he hit me with something.”
Xie Feng focused the lamp on Dong Luorong’s left arm, but instead of the pain easing, new symptoms began to emerge. Waves of unconsciousness washed over Dong Luorong, her body temperature plummeting, and her mind grew foggy. Xie Feng, having seen all kinds of injuries on the streets, immediately recognized that Dong Luorong’s condition was likely due to a ruptured organ, which had worsened over a short period.
Dong Luorong passed out several times, only to regain consciousness moments later, caught in a tug-of-war between healing and injury. Xie Feng grew more anxious with every passing second, terrified that the lamp might not be enough to save her. All she could do was keep the light focused on Dong Luorong’s bare abdomen, praying that this item would at least keep her alive—otherwise, what was the point of evolving?
Fortunately, after what felt like an eternity, Dong Luorong’s condition finally began to stabilize.
When she woke again, her breathing had evened out, her body temperature rose slightly, and she seemed more coherent. She looked at the lamp and smiled weakly at Xie Feng.
“Your ability… it’s amazing. So this is what posthumans are capable of…”
Xie Feng gave an embarrassed smile, just about to respond, when she suddenly perked up and jumped to her feet.
“What is it?” Dong Luorong asked in a hushed voice.
Xie Feng gave her a quick look, just as someone knocked heavily on the door. Even though they had been prepared, the sound hit their nerves like a punch, startling both of them.
A strange male voice called from the other side, “Officer? Is everything all right?”
“It’s his bodyguards,” Dong Luorong whispered, her face growing even paler. “They must have noticed we’ve been inside for too long…”
“Do they have weapons?” Xie Feng asked in a low voice.
“They probably do, but I’ve never seen them carry any,” Dong Luorong replied, struggling to sit up. “I’ll handle them—I’ll tell them to leave.”
The two of them had spent so long inside that they were now used to the stench in the room. But Xie Feng was certain that if they opened the door, the overwhelming odor would hit the visitors like a punch to the face. She quickly whispered, “Talk to them through the door. Don’t open it.”
Carrying Dong Luorong to the door turned out to be easier than Xie Feng had expected. Despite being taller and tightly built from regular exercise, Dong Luorong felt surprisingly light in her arms—like carrying a sack of rice. Though it still felt heavy, Xie Feng knew she had more than enough strength to manage it.
This surge of strength felt incredible.
In just a few steps, it seemed like Dong Luorong was more burdened by the effort than Xie Feng.
After catching her breath, Dong Luorong raised her voice slightly when the person outside rang the doorbell again. “What is it?”
There was a brief hesitation from the other side.
“Miss Dong?” the man said slowly, the way he addressed her now creating a sense of distance. “Where’s the officer?”
“He’s asleep,” Dong Luorong answered after a moment’s thought. “Come back in the morning to pick him up.”
It wasn’t a great answer. From the perspective of the men outside, it would sound strange. Why would Qiu Chantian drag Dong Luorong to what could be a kidnapper’s hideout, supposedly to search for clues, only to fall asleep midway?
But what other excuse could she give? Qiu Chantian didn’t even have a throat anymore, and neither she nor Xie Feng had anything useful on them. When Qiu Chantian had forced her to come, it had been so rushed that she was lucky to have slipped on slippers—probably the only bit of courtesy he’d shown her.
As expected, the man outside wasn’t convinced. “We heard some noises just now and wanted to report back to the officer.”
“I told you, he’s asleep,” Dong Luorong said, moving closer to the door, pressing against the wall as if worried about waking someone. She lowered her voice, speaking to the man outside. “He had some drinks before he came.”
“Perfect timing, then,” the man responded quickly. “I’ve got some medicine here. The officer told me to give it to him if he’d been drinking—it’ll stop his head from hurting when he wakes up. Could you open the door? I’ll hand it to you.”
It didn’t matter whether the man actually had medicine; there was no way they could open the door.
Dong Luorong and Xie Feng exchanged glances, both of them at a loss for what to do.
Xie Feng moved closer to the door and peeked through the peephole. Outside stood two men, the same ones who had been stationed at Dong Luorong’s door earlier. They wore black coats, and it was impossible to tell if they had weapons on their waists. The one speaking was broad-shouldered, with sharp, alert eyes—clearly not someone easy to deal with.
Even though she had evolved, Xie Feng knew she was still in the early stages. Could she take down two trained, potentially armed men at once?
As she bit her lip in hesitation, the man outside rang the doorbell again, calling out, “Officer! Please tell Miss Dong to open the door. I’ve got the medicine.”
If Qiu Chantian had really just been asleep, the noise would have woken him by now. The longer he stayed silent, the more suspicious the men outside would become. If they decided to call hotel staff to unlock the door, Xie Feng and Dong Luorong would lose any advantage they had.
Xie Feng scanned the room quickly, weighing her options, before finally steeling herself.
She leaned in close to Dong Luorong’s ear and whispered a few instructions.
Dong Luorong gave her a worried look.
“I know it’s dangerous,” Xie Feng whispered, misinterpreting her hesitation. “I… I promise I won’t let them hurt you.”
Dong Luorong didn’t say anything, but she gave Xie Feng’s hand a light squeeze.
“I should have died half an hour ago,” Dong Luorong murmured with a small smile. “Seeing how far we can go together now… that sounds pretty interesting.”
Xie Feng couldn’t say a word and simply nodded.
“Wait a moment,” Dong Luorong called to the men outside. “I need to put on some clothes before I open the door.”
By implying that she wasn’t dressed, Dong Luorong subtly suggested a reason why Qiu Chantian would have stayed so long and eventually fallen asleep. Even if it made the men outside relax just a little, it would give Xie Feng a slightly better chance of staying safe—her quick thinking was on full display.
Xie Feng half-carried, half-supported Dong Luorong back to the bed, helping her lie down before swiftly heading to the hallway.
The layout of hotel rooms was generally the same: just past the entrance was a narrow hallway, with the bathroom on one side and a built-in wardrobe on the other, directly facing each other. She walked to the wardrobe and slid the door open—there was no need to worry about making noise since Dong Luorong had already said she was getting dressed.
Xie Feng kept her eyes on the peephole, her palms sweaty with tension.
Gripping the doorknob, she slowly turned it and began to open the door. Most hotel doors opened inward, and just as soon as the latch clicked, the man outside shot out his hand with a sharp thud, pressing the door firmly to stop it from closing. He shoved hard, forcing the door open. “The medicine is a bit tricky to use, so I’ll come in and give it to him—hmm?”
To his surprise, the door didn’t budge. It was as if the hinges had taken root in the floor, resisting his push with immovable force.
Hidden behind the door, Xie Feng pressed her shoulder against it, her face red from the effort. With her small frame tucked behind the door, the man couldn’t see her. But the overwhelming stench of blood and flesh, so thick and nauseating, hit him like a punch to the throat, causing him to gag involuntarily.
“What is that smell—offi—”
The man’s words were cut off as the stench choked his throat, preventing him from finishing the word “officer.” It was obvious something was wrong. He twisted his head away from the door, trying to avoid the noxious air, and called to his companion, “What are you waiting for? Help me push the door!”
The thin man quickly responded, throwing his weight against the door alongside the first. The sudden increase in force almost made Xie Feng cry out, but she bit her lip and held firm. Planting her feet, she used every ounce of strength in her body, holding the door shut against the combined efforts of the two men.
She was amazed by how much stronger she had become in such a short time.
“What the hell is blocking it?” the thin man muttered. “It’s open a crack, but it just won’t budge.”
The larger man raised his hand to stop his partner. “Let’s step back, count to three, and then hit it together.”
Xie Feng heard every word.
Their countdown would also serve as her signal to act. The moment they reached “one” and slammed their shoulders into the door, Xie Feng let go, leaping back and crouching low. She darted into the open wardrobe she had prepared in advance.
The two men, expecting resistance, stumbled forward as the door suddenly swung open with a deafening bang, slamming into the wardrobe. Xie Feng shot out a hand, grabbing the door handle to keep it from bouncing back. Although the door didn’t fully block the wardrobe’s interior, it left just enough of a gap to keep her hidden.
Thrown off balance by the sudden loss of resistance, the two men tumbled headfirst into the hallway, landing in a heap with pained grunts.
“What is that smell—” the thin man managed to gasp, before falling eerily silent.
The two of them had landed right in front of the bathroom. Its door stood wide open, revealing Qiu Chantian slumped against the toilet, his neck mutilated as if it had been shredded by a kaleidoscope of blades. His lifeless, empty eyes stared blankly at his two subordinates, too late to save him.