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    Editor:Henyee Trantions


    The Makeup Artist fell silent, though he continued scrubbing at his face with fervor, tears of remorse mingling with the river water, their distinction blurred in the dim moonlight.


    Meanwhile, Smile, reveling in the chaos he had incited, grinned triumphantly. “Shishi, I warned you not to y ghost and scare Singer. See, now he’s furious.”


    The Makeup Artist seethed in silence, feeling betrayed by Smile’s earlier encouragement.


    Was he being mocked now for his inability to speak or retaliate?


    “Singer, why did you flee in such a sorry state this time? Logically, Shishi did your makeup. You shouldn’t have attracted Xiao Yize’s attention, right?” Smile queried, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.<div>


    As long as Smile refrained from mangling his name, Singer could tolerate the conversation.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    “I encountered a few formidable adversaries.”


    Singer reclined on the rock, his somber gaze fixed on the moonlit sky.


    “How many?” Smile inquired further. “And besides Xiao Yize, who else is there?”


    Singer’s eyes narrowed. “There’s an SS-Grade Mutant on par with Xiao Yize, and an enigmatic hypnotist.”


    Smile and the Makeup Artist were taken aback by Singer’s revtion.


    “To elicit such a response from you, the hypnotist must indeed be formidable, possibly SS-rank. Escaping from three SS-rank mutants is no small feat,” Smile conceded, his tone losing its mocking edge.


    Contemting the dire circumstances, Smile acknowledged that, under simr circumstances, he might resort to hostage-taking tactics to escape.


    He pressed on, seeking rification, “Are they all affiliated with Xiao Yize?”


    Xiao Yize had always been a thorn in their side, actively thwarting their ns at every turn. If they were indeed his associates, the situation would grow considerably moreplicated.


    Singer replied, his tone grave, “I can’t say for certain, but what I do know is that they’re adversaries, not allies.”


    Reflecting on the encounter, Singer’s dark blue eyes clouded with memories. “However, that hypnotist girl piqued my interest.”<div>


    After Gu Yang’s departure, she meticulously organized her notes from her study session on Jiang Mo’s rock music. Then, she arranged to rendezvous with him at an old teahouse in the capital.


    Amidst the chaos caused by the SWAT team’s actions along the Yuhe River, Feng Jue intercepted surveince footage, gaining insight into the events unfolding at the musical instrument shop.


    In response, he arranged a meeting spot with Gu Jin, where they engaged in cordial discussion, exchanging ideas on safeguarding Gu Yang’s well-being.


    Clear Tea Garden.


    In an era dominated by coffee shops and milk tea outlets, traditional teahouses had be a rarity.


    Clear Tea Garden stood as a relic of the past, its décor simple yet elegant, steeped in history. Legend had it that its ancestors once served tea in front of the pce, garnering attention from inte celebrities seeking unique photo opportunities. However, their presence proved disruptive, prompting the teahouse owner to expel them and even install signal jammers to prevent live broadcasts.


    Subsequently, the influx of visitors dwindled, but the tea master and patrons weed the newfound tranquility.


    The clientele consisted mostly of elderly individuals seeking respite from the hustle and bustle of modern life.


    Given Jiang Mo’s status as a singer, Gu Yang deemed Clear Tea Garden a fitting rendezvous point. Here, the likelihood of encountering paparazzi or attracting unwanted attention from passersby was significantly reduced.


    Gu Yang arrived ahead of Jiang Mo, causing a stir among the owner and patrons who regarded her presence as a rare urrence. Since the teahouse ceased to be a hotspot for inte celebrities, the influx of young visitors had drastically declined.


    The owner of the tea house said directly, “Miss, we don’t have milk tea here.”


    Clearly, the owner assumed Gu Yang had mistakenly wandered into the teahouse, mistaking it for a milk tea shop.<div>


    Gu Yang responded calmly, “I’m aware.”


    The teahouse owner, still taken aback by her presence, inquired once more, “Would you like to enjoy tea prepared by us, or would you prefer to brew it yourself?”


    “I’ll brew it myself. I’d like some West Lake Longjing tea, please.” As she entered, Gu Yang caught a whiff of the fragrant aroma of West Lake Longjing tea, deeming its quality satisfactory.