CHAPTER 767: THE MYSTERY OF THE HAND!

11th January, 2032!

Morning came. Velkhara limped away, her knees swollen, her body aching with the weight of the night. She stopped suddenly, spotting Ning Xue hidden in the shadows.

"Come back with me..." Velkhara’s tone was cold, sharp.

Ning Xue stiffened, caught. She hadn’t expected to be noticed. And that tone, stern, commanding, was the Velkhara she remembered, not the flushed trembling one from last night.

"Do you two... know each other...?" Ning Xue’s voice drifted out, lost, unsure.

Velkhara’s eyes flashed at her: "Do you sleep with strangers?"

Ning Xue froze, face flaring red. Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t deny it. In her defense, she’d been forced. Of course she wasn’t telling anyone that.

There had once been an agreement: when she made up her mind, she would kill him. That was the deal. Simple. But now? That certainty was gone. He wasn’t so easy to define anymore.

Ning Xue shook her head slowly, her thoughts spiraling. Who was this man, really? A random mortal businessman? Or someone Velkhara already knew? Some god, dragged out of a forgotten past?

After the two women left, Wang Xiao stretched, arms wide, a lazy yawn spilling out.

"Even you get tired? Or did bending time wear you out?"

A voice came with light steps.

Without turning, Wang Xiao smirked. "Someone sounds bitter. Hm? The bratty girl I remember would’ve just sulked in jealousy instead."

"..."

Aurora’s cheeks burned. Damn him, he did that! He had done exactly what she feared: gone back, dug his claws into her younger self. The confirmation made her chest loosen with a twisted relief, but it still left her uneasy.

"It’s too uncomfortable..." she muttered. "Next time, don’t."

The thought Irked her. That younger Aurora, soft, reckless, unguarded. He had touched her then too, hadn’t he? And now, standing here, she couldn’t separate which version of herself he owned. Both? Neither? The idea of his hands crossing her timeline... it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

Wang Xiao flicked his wrist dismissively. "Accident."

Neither of them mentioned Aegis. The graveyard, her schemes, her little plots, what did any of it matter? To these two, such things weren’t even worth a line of conversation.

"What to do with these two?" Aurora muttered, shaking her head before producing the women he had all but forgotten.

Linda and Lian. The two he’d first met at the Icevale brothel, later tangled with Apollo when he went sniffing into Wang Xiao’s past, only for Aurora to catch all three together. Apollo had been disposed of, leaving only these two strays behind.

"Mmmph!"

They stood before him now. One with half-red, half-black hair glaring through the strands falling over her face, the other with wide, pleading eyes. Both were bound, mouths sealed with duct tape, muffled whimpers vibrating in their throats.

They hadn’t talked. They hadn’t even had the chance. Aurora had made sure of that.

Wang Xiao’s gaze slid over them, smooth skin, tempting curves, beauty ripe enough to make weaker men hesitate. He blinked once, raised his hand, and let it fall in a clean arc.

Slash.

Blood sprayed as both bodies split at the waist, collapsing in twin heaps.

Aurora blinked, caught off guard. "Hm? You could’ve kept one... That one didn’t lie with any man after you. Isn’t that usually your rule?"

But Wang Xiao didn’t even glance back at the halves cooling on the floor. He simply turned, already heading toward Wang Jiarong. His voice was a shrug.

"Useless burdens. Don’t want it."

Aurora froze, lips parting soundlessly. It wasn’t like him. Or maybe it was, but a new shade of him she hadn’t seen yet.

She had watched him grow before, but this felt different. Sharper and detached, perhaps walking through his own past had shifted something in him again.

Infact, it was that presence, that vast Hand looming behind everything, that had reignited the hunger burning in him. Against that scale, mortal women were less than trivial.

Going downstairs, Wang Xiao found a strange sight.

His sister, freshly awake and washed, was standing in the middle of the living area. In clean clothes, strands of dark wavy hair still damp at the ends, she looked oddly out of place as she leaned forward curiously, staring at the figure tied against the far wall.

Elaria.

The last of the Chronomasters.

Wang Jiarong’s eyes blinked wide, caught between awe and disbelief, as though she were looking at a creature pulled straight from the pages of a fantasy book.

Elongated ears. Fair, milk-white skin that would bloom scarlet with the smallest blush. Emerald-green eyes shinning faintly under the sunlight. Elaria tilted her head back at her, just as curiously, except tear stains streaked her cheeks, and duct tape silenced the words trembling on her lips.

Before Jiarong could take a step closer, a cold voice echoed.

"Leave her alone."

"!!"

She flinched, heart jumping, turning quickly. Wang Xiao’s voice.

Caught, she nodded hesitantly, lips pressing thin. "...Is she... human?" she asked, unable to stop herself.

"No one here is human," Wang Xiao replied flatly, walking past her without even a glance.

The words unsettled her. Not human? She looked perfectly human to herself, more than anyone else. She blinked, opened her mouth, but then swallowed her question, shaking her head as if pushing it aside. She didn’t understand, maybe she didn’t want to.

As Wang Xiao sat down, her gaze settled on Elaria a moment longer before drifting, and freezing again.

There was another woman in the room.

Slumped on the couch like she’d given up on life itself, blonde hair messy, eyes sleepy.

Wang Jiarong’s hands froze when recognition slapped.

That face, she knew it.

The mother of the woman who had organized Qian Ruixin’s marriage banquet.

Her stomach turned cold.

Just how long had he been planning?

From the beginning to the end, all of it,.every step, every string, already in his hands.

They had been playing into his game without even realizing.

The day passed quietly, too quietly.

Not for Long Qimeng and Luo Yang.

Neither of them could understand why they were still alive. Luo Yang insisted it was because of him, he knew someone connected to the Eighth Prince. "That’s the only reason," he repeated like a shield against his fear.

Long Qimeng only snorted. "You’re farting through your mouth. If he wanted us gone, we’d be gone. Don’t flatter yourself."

But the words gave her no comfort.

She couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep, her family had already disowned her, washing their hands of the disgrace. She was living alone now, in a rented flat that felt more like a prison cell.

And yet, the mansion still stood in her mind.

When night fell, her resolve snapped. Maybe she was insane. Maybe she just needed to see it again. To call out, to confirm... something.

She crept near the estate walls. The place was as silent as a grave.

But just as she hesitated, headlights swept across the driveway.

A red open-hood Audi convertible rolled in, tires crunching over the gravel. Qimeng stiffened, heart hammering.

The woman who stepped out removed her sunglasses with a lazy flick.

"Aunt Xue...?" Qimeng’s whisper caught in her throat.

Xue Hanqin.

What was she doing here?

Qimeng stayed low in the shadows, watching, but she didn’t dare stay. The longer she stood there, the more her instincts screamed leave. She turned and fled into the night.

Everyone knew by now, the Eighth Prince’s properties were no secret. Mansions, towers, villas scattered across the globe. They looked ordinary on paper, but in reality? They might as well be cursed lands.

No one photographed them. No one bragged on social media about sneaking close. Government directives forbade it, and those who ignored the rules... died. Randomly. Quietly, without explanation.

Even whispers about him vanished within hours. Not because people forgot, but because fear had its own gag order. The Eighth Prince wasn’t just a man, he was a living taboo.

The worst kind. The kind that kills you without you ever knowing why.

Inside the mansion, Xue Hanqin yawned as she stepped out of her Audi. He was already waiting at the entrance.

She tilted her head, her sapphire eyes catching the faint glow of the lights. Short bangs framed her face, the rest of her dark hair falling straight down her back. Mature. Elegant. Innocent at first glance.

A divorced lady who could pass for the type to "touch children," if you only looked at the surface.

But Wang Xiao knew better.

All her strength was sealed. Even if the universe itself shattered, it wouldn’t leave a mark on her skin. She wasn’t here to flaunt power. She only wanted one thing, someone reckless enough to carry her back to the Netherworld, where her true strength could be unleashed without tearing reality apart by accident.

"Look very happy, huh? Something good happen?