Winter in Nancheng cut straight to the bone.
A black sedan sliced past, cracking the thin ice on the road and kicking up dirty water.
Inside, the heat was blasting. The assistant in the passenger seat handed the file he’d dug up to the man in the back.
The man was dressed in a suit, long legs crossed, his expression flat as his eyes skimmed the papers.
“After Luna Mercer’s adoptive parents passed away, she was sent off to the orphanage. She’s already too old, so most people don’t want to adopt her. Once the New Year comes, she’ll be eighteen. After that, no one can adopt her anymore.”
Ethan Mercer lowered his phoenix eyes slightly. “This gets done today. No exceptions.”
The assistant nodded at once. “Understood.”
Before long, the car pulled up outside the orphanage in Nancheng.
The place looked seriously run-down. A lonely three-story building stood there by itself, hemmed in by iron fencing all around. The winter wind blew through it, making the whole place feel even bleaker.
The director had gotten word early that Ethan Mercer was coming. She had specially washed up and dressed neatly, then waited outside in the cold.
The assistant stepped out first and opened the rear door.
Ethan Mercer got out in a heavy overcoat, and the second he stood outside, a sharp gust of freezing wind hit him head-on.
“Mr. Mercer! Welcome, welcome to our Nancheng Orphanage!” The director put on a bright, eager smile and reached out her hand.
Ethan’s gaze brushed over it. He didn’t take it.
The smile on the director’s face froze on the spot. Awkward. Very awkward.
The assistant smoothly stepped in, shook her hand for him, and said with a polite smile, “Mr. Mercer doesn’t like physical contact with strangers. Director, let’s skip the small talk. Please take us inside.”
“Yes, of course, of course. Please come in, both of you.” The director forced a knowing smile. Rich people, huh. Always a little... particular.
As she led them in, she kept talking. “The children in our orphanage are all very obedient. Boys and girls, we have both. I’m just not sure what kind of child Mr. Mercer is hoping to adopt?”
The assistant heard that and immediately knew the message hadn’t been passed along properly. So he said, “We heard there’s a girl here named Luna Mercer. The one whose parents are both gone.”
The director’s smile twitched for a split second, clearly unnatural. “Her... right. I’ll have someone call her over right away.”
“No need. Lead the way.” Ethan’s deep voice cut in, low and cool, with no warmth in it.
The director stole a glance at him. His face was colder than the dead of winter itself. She didn’t dare keep looking. She hurriedly nodded and took them farther inside.
They entered Luna’s room.
Calling it a room was honestly generous. It was really just a cleaned-up storage closet. Fine dust still floated in the air. Not far from the door sat a tiny bed that belonged to Luna. Beside it was a large cabinet with a few books stacked on top, looking like standard middle school textbooks.
But Luna wasn’t there.
The director quickly explained, “She’s probably helping out in the kitchen. It’s dirty and messy there, Mr. Mercer. You really don’t need to go. I can just call her over.”
“It’s fine. Just take us there,” the assistant said, still smiling.
His smile didn’t look hostile, but somehow it still made the director feel pressured, like a weight pressing down on her chest. These two were clearly not people she could afford to offend. She could only grit her teeth and lead them toward the back courtyard.
Before they even got close, they heard it—
dull thuds, light but ugly, the sound of fists and kicks landing on flesh.
Ethan’s calm gaze shifted toward a cramped corner ahead.
“You got both your parents killed and you still won’t admit you’re a jinx? Beat her to death! If she dies, she can’t bring anyone else bad luck!”
“Exactly! Jinx! You are a jinx!”
“Hurry up and die already!”
The director obviously heard it too. Her face turned ugly on the spot, panic flashing through her eyes. She had a very bad feeling. Forcing herself forward, she stepped in front of Ethan and tried to block his line of sight.
“Mr. Mercer, Luna... she’s up ahead.”
“Move her aside.” Ethan’s tone stayed even, but it left no room for argument.
The assistant immediately obeyed and pulled the director out of Ethan’s way.
Ethan, meanwhile, lifted a leg and walked straight toward the source of the noise.
Three boys, each around five-foot-four or five-foot-five, were standing there, kicking a girl curled up on the ground.
You could vaguely see the back of her hands as she covered her head. They were swollen with chilblains, red and cracked from the cold. Kick after kick landed on her body, and she didn’t make a sound.
Ethan watched for a moment, expression unreadable.
Then the girl being beaten slowly opened her eyes.
Her gaze met his.