TSFLIP Chapter 809

Wu Qi froze for a moment, then frowned in confusion. “Young Master… what do you mean by that?”

Shu Feng smiled faintly as he stepped closer. “Let’s not beat around the bush. Tong County is a small place—if something happens here, it’s hard for it to escape my notice.”

Wu Qi stayed calm. “I know who you are, Young Master. You’re the master of Linglong Manor, and Miss Feng’s friend.”

“Then you should also know,” Shu Feng said mildly, “that I don’t like meddling in other people’s business.”

“I don’t know much about you, sir,” Wu Qi replied evenly. “So I wouldn’t dare assume what you like or dislike.”

A hint of admiration flickered in Shu Feng’s eyes. “Your composure is impressive. It’s almost enough to make me patient.”

“If you have nothing else to say, Young Master, I’ll be going in now…”

“I wonder,” Shu Feng interrupted, his tone casual but sharp, “when Madam Liu died, were you this calm then, too?”

The moment he said it, Wu Qi’s expression cracked. His eyes flared with anger. “Are you saying I killed my mother?”

Wu Qi had no father; his mother had raised him alone. Their bond was real—deep and unbreakable—and he could not stand to hear anyone suggest he’d harmed her.

“No,” Shu Feng said quietly. “Madam Liu did take her own life. I’m only asking why she chose to do it.”

“I already told you,” Wu Qi said, his voice strained. “My mother—”

“She killed herself to take the blame for you.” Shu Feng cut him off with a smile—just in time to see the boy’s face freeze.

After a long silence, Wu Qi spoke stiffly, his face expressionless. “Young Master, please don’t speak nonsense.”

“Do you know,” Shu Feng continued softly, “that once someone has killed, the scent of blood never truly leaves them? It clings to the skin—no matter how much they try to wash it away.”

Wu Qi’s voice went cold. “Is that so? Then tell me, have you ever killed anyone, Young Master?”

“I have.” Shu Feng’s gentle smile didn’t waver, though there was a strange, unreadable gleam behind it. “Killing can be addictive. Once you’ve done it once, it becomes easier the second time… and then it never ends.”

Wu Qi stared at him, stunned. He hadn’t expected the man to admit it so easily. Slowly, his hands clenched the fabric of his sleeves. “You have no proof. You can’t prove I killed anyone—and I had no reason to.”

“Reason?” Shu Feng’s lashes lowered, shadowing his sharp, clear eyes. “The reason’s simple. Those children from Wutong Alley—they were your playmates, yes, but they also mocked you. They laughed at you for not having a father. You never showed your anger in front of them. Instead, you lured them one by one to that dark cellar—with little toys, little tricks—and once they were inside, it only took one swing of an axe to end their lives. Tell me, Wu Qi… am I wrong?”

Wu Qi’s face went pale. He took a step back, stubbornly shaking his head. “You have no evidence. Everything you’ve said is just your own speculation.”

“Evidence?” Shu Feng’s voice softened again, though the chill beneath it deepened. “I don’t need evidence. All I need is to make sure nothing—and no one—ever threatens her peace.”

The “her” he spoke of, of course, was Feng Guang.