Chapter 68: The Frightened Young Master

Qi Yan was utterly alarmed. He had only just stepped out of the elevator when someone suddenly covered his mouth and nose from behind. His eyes flew wide open, and he instinctively jabbed his elbow backward with all his might, striking his assailant in the abdomen.

“Ah!” the person cried out in pain, letting go of Qi Yan and crouching down, clutching his stomach.

Qi Yan immediately spun around, ready to land a couple more kicks on the guy who had attacked him. His leg was already raised, but when he caught sight of the man’s face, he froze.

“Yang Han…?” Qi Yan stared at the man grimacing on the floor—wasn’t this the same rich young man, Young Master Yang, who’d invited him and Li Ruoke to his villa not long ago?

After that incident, they hadn’t seen each other again. It must have been well over half a month now. Yang Han had been injured last time too—his arm was still in a cast.

Qi Yan was bewildered. What was going on now? Why had Yang Han suddenly turned up at the door of the Keke Occult Studio, and why did he pounce the moment Qi Yan returned?

Moreover, seeing Yang Han again, he appeared quite changed. His spirit was utterly deflated, a faint blue shadow of a beard ringed his mouth, clearly unshaven for days. His once flamboyant hairstyle was unkempt, disheveled. His arms, already covered in tattoos, now made him look almost like an addict.

Despite the blow to his abdomen, Yang Han didn’t seem to care much. He propped himself up against the wall and stood, dark circles heavy beneath his eyes—he clearly hadn’t slept well recently. The look he gave Qi Yan was complicated: fear, panic, helplessness…

With his uninjured hand, he grabbed Qi Yan anxiously. “You’re Qi Yan, right? Where’s Keke? Where is she?”

Qi Yan found this all bizarre—it was late at night. What was this young master doing, blocking his door at such an hour? What could be so urgent?

“Uh… Keke’s dealing with something, she hasn’t been at the studio for a few days. What… what do you need her for?” Qi Yan ventured cautiously.

Yang Han took a few deep breaths and shook his head. “She’s not here? Then… then talking to you should be fine too.” He gripped Qi Yan’s shoulder, pleading, “Help me, please, you both have to help me…!”

His agitation made his grip painful, and Qi Yan felt a stab in his shoulder.

“Let go, let go—what are you doing, grabbing and pulling like that?”

Twisting his body, Qi Yan broke free from Yang Han’s grasp and, coming back to his senses, snapped, “You owe me an apology. A sincere one.”

Yang Han stared blankly for a moment, but recalling his own abrupt and rough approach, he quickly offered an earnest apology. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you… I was just… so panicked.”

Qi Yan nodded, accepting the apology, then turned aside, clutching his protective talisman and muttering under his breath, “He’s apologized, it’s fine, just a little excitable and reckless, no harm meant…”

Yang Han, already unnerved by his own troubles, was even more curious now. “What are you mumbling?”

“Nothing, nothing…” Qi Yan brushed it off and steered the conversation back. “So, what’s so urgent that you had to come here in such a hurry this late?”

Yang Han glanced at him, then at the dim corridors, leaning in to whisper, “Can we talk inside…?”

Qi Yan was at a loss—what had gotten into him today? Still, it was clear Yang Han was troubled by something serious, or he wouldn’t be waiting outside the studio for him or Li Ruoke at this hour.

Qi Yan invited him inside the studio. After all, he was a client. Out of courtesy, Qi Yan poured him a glass of water, and one for himself.

Yang Han was parched. He gulped down the water in one go.

Sitting across the small table, Qi Yan took a sip himself. “Goodness, what’s happened to you? You look like someone’s out to kill you…”

Yang Han, having drained his glass, seemed to recover slightly. He took a few breaths, then, in a voice full of terror, said, “They want to kill me. They’re coming to kill me!”

Qi Yan nearly choked on his water, coughing as he frowned. “What? Say that again, I didn’t quite catch it.”

“I said, they’re coming to kill me!” Yang Han jumped up from his chair, staring wide-eyed at Qi Yan, pleading, “Please, you must know a way! Last time, when Xiao Yue was possessed, you and Li Ruoke saved us. You must know what to do… Help me, I don’t want to die, I really don’t want to die…!”

Had Qi Yan not stopped him, the man would have dropped to his knees right there—it was no exaggeration.

To be so terrified, Qi Yan’s own anxiety rose. “Can you explain properly? Who wants to kill you?”

Yang Han lifted his head, staring vacantly. “Yu Dong and… Xiao Xue. They want to kill me. They’re coming to take my life!”

Qi Yan jumped to his feet, turning slightly, bewildered. “Who? You mean… the two who were skinned last time?”

Wang Yudong and Shi Xiaoxue—their names were etched clearly in Qi Yan’s memory. That harrowing poolside party, the horrific way “Ghostface” tortured them, skinning them alive—the gruesome scene was still vivid in his mind.

“They… weren’t they your friends? And they’re dead, beyond any doubt—I was there, you remember?” An ominous feeling gnawed at Qi Yan, but he waited for Yang Han to compose himself.

This time, Yang Han truly broke down. Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes and spilled over as he sank to the floor, clutching his hair in one hand, visibly waging a fierce inner battle.

For a grown man to be reduced to this, it was certainly no trivial matter.

Qi Yan didn’t press him, letting him vent.

After more than ten minutes, Yang Han finally managed to speak again, his voice hoarse, “They… they’re coming to kill me. It’s true—they want my life… I really… I’m about to go insane these days, I have no other way!”

Qi Yan had hoped for some concrete explanation, but Yang Han’s nerves remained frayed. Left to guess, Qi Yan ventured, “You mean… they haven’t found peace and have come back as vengeful spirits to ‘visit’ you, is that it?”

Yang Han never uttered the word “ghost.” The past few days had nearly driven him mad; it was evident from his haggard appearance, his expression and voice. The mere mention of the word made him shrink and his lips tremble.

“You have to believe me, I’m not lying… They really came for me, it’s true…”

Qi Yan squatted in front of him, his tone grave. “I believe you’re not insane, but I also know this: every debt has its debtor. They died because of evil spirits, I’m sure of that.

But what I don’t understand is—why… why would they come after you? Yang Han, tell me—what reason would your old friends have to seek you out?”