Drama Queen Reborn as a Top Student!-Chapter 712 - 305 Pay the Price

The man’s face was streaked with blood, yet his eyes glimmered with a chilling, ruthless killing intent.

The dagger in his hand plunged directly into the heart of the man in front of him, moving so rapidly that it left no time to react.

Unexpected. Precise. Lethal.

This was the creed of a Dark Group assassin.

The Dark Group, as its name implied, always operated in the shadows, licking blood off the blade, never surfacing in the light.

Assassins of the Dark Group bore no names, only code names. Day in and day out, they trained, preparing to execute secret assassination missions.

They were like the sharpest of swords honed to perfection, hidden within a scabbard, unsheathed only when the Yu family needed them, their strike sealing the target’s throat with blood.

What they trained for wasn’t flashy techniques or overwhelming power but speed, precision, and ruthlessness—delivering death in the shortest span of time in the most opportune moment.

The gleaming blade of the dagger danced amidst the snowflakes, carrying an aura of piercing through a thousand peaks.

Just as the dagger’s tip was about to stab into the person’s back, a hand darted out from behind at a bizarre angle, pinching the dagger’s point between two fingers. The tip halted a mere half-inch from breaking skin.

The man’s brows furrowed. He could hardly comprehend how the opposing arm could twist at such an unnatural angle, restraining the dagger as if eyes were embedded in the back of their head.

For an experienced assassin, however, this wasn’t the time for hesitation. Channeling power into his wrist, he thrust the blade forward once more.

But no matter how frail the youth appeared—seemingly skin and bones—the dagger wouldn’t move even an inch forward. Realizing the situation, the man decisively pulled the dagger back, now aiming a slash toward the youth’s neck.

By this time, the youth had already half-turned, dodging the descending blade. At this moment, the shock in the man’s heart was unimaginable.

For a killer, the most critical rule was a single strike to kill. Speed, precision, and ruthlessness had been drilled into him to their absolute peak, and he had never once failed a mission.

Yet now, he had tasted the sting of defeat at the hands of a youth.

The earlier movements of the youth—swift as they were—were no coincidence. The youth was clearly a master hidden in plain sight.

Realizing this, the man approached the confrontation with even greater caution. The two exchanged several moves, blow for blow, but the shock in his heart only deepened.

He was fast; the youth was faster.

He was ruthless; the youth was even more so.

In the next exchange, his arm was locked. A crisp crack echoed—a dislocated joint—and the dagger slipped from his hand, plunging into the snow below.

Horrified, he lifted his eyes. Amidst the icy expanse, a pair of deep, Exotic Realm-blue eyes stared back at him, their unfathomable depths drawing him in against his will.

A snowflake rested on the lashes, like a misty veil, emphasizing the enigmatic abyss of those blue eyes.

"The top assassin of the Dark Group? That’s all?"

The voice was colder than ice and snow.

His heart sank to the very bottom. The opponent not only knew his identity but also his origin; from the start, he had been outmatched.

No...

His other hand quickly reached for his lower back, but in the next moment, his expression transformed.

Hanging nonchalantly between the youth’s two fingers was a pistol, being dangled in front of his eyes. "Looking for this?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Who... exactly are you?"

The youth, though close enough to touch, seemed shrouded in an ethereal fog, making it impossible to see clearly.

"Yu Ruohuan ordered you to kill me but didn’t tell you who I am?"

The youth’s thin lips curled into a devilish, enchanting smile.

The whisper at his ear was like the seductive chain of a demon: "I’m someone the Yu family can’t afford to provoke. If you dare cross me, you’ll pay the price."

With those words, the youth mercilessly dislocated both his arms before tossing him into the snow.

The sound of footsteps grew more distant. The vast expanse of the world spread infinitely, while snow fell silently, erasing all traces.

Li Ku waited by the car. When Shen You’an approached, he promptly opened the door, his eyes darting around warily.

"What are you looking at?"

"Hidden snipers."

Shen You’an chuckled, shaking her head. "The surroundings are too open, not ideal for snipers to hide. Besides..."

She got into the car.

"Besides what?" Li Ku asked curiously.

"Yu Ruohuan doesn’t have the brains for that."

She was arrogant enough to think that a single assassin would suffice to solve the problem. Underestimating one’s opponent was tantamount to digging one’s own grave.

The car made a U-turn and headed back toward the airport.

Not far away, a passing taxi driver noticed the overturned fuel truck and made a call to the police.

The snow continued to fall, growing heavier. The driver cautiously approached the man lying in the snow. "Hey, are you all right?"

The man’s eyes snapped open, the icy gaze startling the driver, who stumbled back, falling on the snow.

The man rose to his feet, his arms hanging limply, like a marionette controlled by unseen strings.

"W-what do you want?"

The driver couldn’t shake the fear crawling up his spine as he took in the man’s eerie presence.

The man walked toward the taxi stationed at the roadside, casting a cold glance back at the driver.

Realizing what was expected of him, the driver hurriedly trotted over, pulling open the backseat door.

The man ducked into the car.

"You should probably wait for the ambulance to arrive," the driver suggested hesitantly. "You’re in no condition to move."

The response came in the form of a pair of icy eyes.

Not daring to persist, the driver quickly slipped into his seat.

"Baitao Street, Number 23," the man ordered.

The driver hesitated. "Baitao Street in the western suburbs?"

In the rearview mirror, an emotionless pair of eyes stared coldly at him. His heart tightened, and he mumbled nervously, "Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital first?"

Baitao Street was known for abandoned factories and derelict buildings, a place few frequented. A man so severely injured yet headed toward such a desolate area—it reeked of suspicion.

The driver swallowed his doubts and started the engine regardless.

At that moment, the sound of police sirens pierced the air, growing louder as they approached. The man’s voice dropped several notches. "Drive. Now."

Shivering, the driver panicked and fumbled to accelerate.

This man isn’t... a fugitive, is he? What should I do? If I had known, I wouldn’t have meddled and called the police.

As the taxi sped off, another cab passed by in the opposite direction—coming from the direction of the airport.

The rear window of the approaching taxi was cracked slightly open, just enough to reveal a silhouette inside.

It was the figure of a girl wearing a baseball cap. As the two cars brushed past, the girl inside turned her head to look directly at him.

Beneath the brim of the cap was a plain, clean face. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, their lenses reflecting light and obscuring her eyes. Still, that fleeting glance left a striking impression.

The taxi quickly disappeared into the distance, leaving the man frowning as he recalled the girl’s fleeting smile.

He suddenly leaned out of his window, craning to look back at the taxi fading into the snowfall.

The snow fell harder, the world enshrouded in a thick mist, leaving no trace of the cab that had gone by.

He withdrew his gaze thoughtfully. Perhaps he was overthinking it.

Through the storm of falling snow, the taxi drove toward the western suburbs, finally stopping at the base of Wansui Mountain.

The girl paid her fare and stepped out, the snow already reaching half a foot in depth.

Adjusting her backpack and wrapping herself tighter in her down jacket, she began trudging up the mountain, taking unsteady steps through the thick snow.

The Silent Garden behind the mountain lay hidden beneath layers of snow, so tranquil it seemed forgotten by the world itself.

Two guards stood dutifully at the doorway of Silent Garden. Despite their heavy cloaks, they had become snowmen from the relentless snowfall, unmoving the entire time.

The night crept in silently. Darkness stretched over everything, yet amidst the snow-laden shadows, a faint glimmer of light shone like ghostly moonlight.

A black shadow flickered over the western wall, landing lightly on the snow, as if it were no heavier than a falling snowflake.

Ahead stood two side rooms, faint light flickering from within. Though weak, in the icy, barren mountain landscape, the light exuded a subtle warmth.

The shadow moved forward, leaving barely any trace in the snow, quickly covered again by fresh snowfall.

Stopping at the eastern side room, faint voices floated from within.

"It’s snowing again. I wonder how long this will last. They say a heavy snowfall foretells a bountiful year, but I can’t help wondering what the world is truly like outside now..."

"I heard Guo Cui mention that the outside world is now in the era of advanced technology, progressing day by day. The world you once envisioned has finally become a reality. How I wish I could see it for myself."

"I wonder if the green plum tree in our yard is still standing. With the snow this heavy, it must be in full bloom, truly a stunning sight. ’The clouds yellow, the stockings untraceable, where did the jade dragon’s soul wander to grace the northern branch?’ ..."

"I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever get to see it again in this life..."

The aged voice quivered with boundless sorrow.

Shen You’an stood silently at the doorway, the wind and snow brushing against her from the eaves, leaving her chilled to the bone.

A door creaked slightly open in the adjacent room. A head peeked out cautiously. "Boss..."

Shen You’an walked over, pushed the figure’s head back inside, then stepped over the threshold, shutting the door behind her.

The room was simple, yet a rare warmth filled the air.

Chong Ming rushed forward in excitement, arms wide. "Boss, I’ve been waiting ages for you!"

Shen You’an sidestepped, and Chong Ming hugged empty air.

She removed her jacket, calmly brushing off the snow that clung to it.

"Boss, how could you be so heartless? Leaving me out here in the mountains to fend for myself—I was going mad!"

Worried about arousing the suspicions of the elderly couple, Chong Ming spent his days avoiding them. He would leave medicine at their door and scurry away, claiming he had a cold and was afraid of infecting them whenever they asked after him.

The old couple’s frail health often kept them indoors, though they sometimes ventured into the yard on sunnier days.

Shen You’an settled herself by the fireplace, opened her backpack, and pulled out a small sandalwood box.

Chong Ming squatted beside her, eyes gleaming at the sight of the exquisite box. "Boss, what’s in there?"

Shen You’an opened the lid.

Chong Ming inhaled deeply, and the fog clouding his mind evaporated in an instant.

"A Golden Core from the Leng family and a five-hundred-year-old wild ginseng," Shen You’an answered calmly.

Chong Ming sucked in a sharp breath. "I’ve only ever heard of these in legends! This is my first time seeing them for real."

His hand inched forward, wanting to touch it, wondering if one bite would grant him immortality.

Shen You’an smacked his hand away. "Boil some water."

"Got it." Chong Ming obediently complied.

Yu Yisen and Shen Qiunong’s bodies had borne years of suffering, leaving them severely weakened. Though she had cleansed their meridians last time, it was merely a temporary fix. They couldn’t hold on much longer.

The Leng family’s Golden Core was unparalleled in its miraculous properties. A single one was worth more than gold on the market—it was a priceless treasure. That they had offered her one spoke volumes about their sincerity.

The Golden Core was halved. Each of them would take one portion dissolved in water, supplemented by the five-hundred-year-old wild ginseng. She was confident their bodies would gradually recover.

Steam rose from the boiling water, curling thickly in the air.

Shen You’an plucked the smallest root of the wild ginseng and tossed it into the boiling water.

The body, weakened to such an extent, could not endure overly potent supplements. Recovery had to be gradual.