Carrying a large food container, Qinghong walked up to a house hidden in a bamboo grove. Two men dressed in black clothes and wearing masks reached out and stopped him: "Badge."

Qinghong took out the token from his embrace and handed it over for the two men to inspect. After carefully examining it, the masked man opened the food box and took a look inside. Finally, he searched Qinghong's body before nodding to indicate that he could go in.

The other masked man took out a key and unlocked the lock on the door.

Qinghong pushed open the door and first turned behind a folding screen. Then, she lifted the heavy curtain and saw that the room was dimly lit. The candlelight flickered with a weak glow. The windows were nailed shut with wooden planks, leaving only a few narrow gaps. The sunlight attempted to shine through into these rooms, but it was mercilessly blocked by the windows.

Qinghong opened the food box, arranged the dishes neatly, and approached a large bed. Gently, he helped the person lying on it sit up and lean against the head of the bed. With respect, he said, "Young Master, it's time for you to eat."

The person leaning against the head of the bed stared lifelessly in an unknown direction, seemingly uninterested in everything happening around them.

Qinghong seemed to have gotten used to his behavior. She turned the bowl around, scooped up a spoonful, blew gently to cool it, and brought it to the man's lips. The man did not resist and swallowed it as he opened his mouth to accept the spoon.

After feeding him in this way, Qinghong gently helped him lie down. However, she accidentally touched the chain on his neck, causing it to make a slight noise. The chain was extremely short, only allowing him to move around on the bed but not take a step off.

Yehao tucked in the blankets, Qinghong took a glance at the unwavering gaze of that person, and sighed softly. He used to be such a gentle and refined young master, how did he become the way he is now?

After packing up the food box, I was ready to go back when I heard a respectful voice from outside calling out, "Leader!"

Qinghong quickly stopped what she was doing and knelt down to the side. She could only hear a series of steady and powerful footsteps coming closer from a distance. Before long, the curtain was lifted, revealing a figure - it was indeed Lu Xiaohan.

At a glance, I saw Qinghong kneeling beside me and waved my hand, saying, "Don't kneel anymore, get up and answer me whether Xiaoxuan spoke today or not."

"Master, the Young Master... is still the same as before," the disciple reported.

Lu Xiaohan's heart ached when he heard those words: "Never mind, you go first."

Lu Xiaohan sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Lu Xuan's face. Although Lu Xuan's eyes were lifeless, he still slightly turned his head to avoid Lu Xiaohan's gaze.

Lu Xiaohan felt an inexplicable anger surge in his chest, causing both pain and frustration. He reached out and forcefully turned Lü Xuan's face towards him, saying, "Look at me."

Gradually, a trace of spiritual energy gathered in his eyes. Lu Xuan watched him quietly, his eyes devoid of sadness, joy, or any emotions, as if he was staring at a complete stranger.

As he stared into Xuan's eyes, Xaohan's anger grew even stronger. He pressed down on Xuan's head, leaning over and biting his lips, while his tongue started to aggressively invade.

"Uh..." Lu Xiaohan covered his mouth, a trickle of blood flowing through his fingers. He chuckled bitterly and said, "Not bad, not bad, you still have some fight left in you."

In Lu Xuan's eyes, there was not a trace of violated anger. He calmly raised his hand to wipe away the bloodstains belonging to Lu Xiaohan at the corner of his mouth and said, "Uncle, I'm tired. I don't want to hate you anymore. Either you kill me, or you let me go. I promise I will stay far away from you."

Lu Xiaohan said nothing, but turned and left with a flick of his sleeve. His anger caused the heavy curtain to be stirred up by the gust of wind created by his sleeve, and Lu Xuanchi gazed foolishly at the curtain. It seemed to be the direction of freedom, but unfortunately, behind the curtain was only a huge screen, with not even a door in sight. Lu Xuanchi withdrew his gaze and stood up, intending to approach the sealed window, but as soon as he sat up halfway, he was pulled back by the chain.

Leaning his head against the headboard, unable to discern day from night, it seemed as though time had lost all memory. Recalling the days of confinement, Lu Xuan could only feel himself being deeply engulfed by a whirlpool of despair, unable to escape.