In the villa's study, Qin Li stood by the window, quietly observing the mountain landscape.

The view was serene—a tranquil sea of green pines swaying in the breeze, punctuated by the occasional chirp of birds. The villa was perched halfway up the mountain, offering a glimpse of the bustling city far below. From this vantage point, the streams of cars resembled orderly columns of ants, and the clustered skyscrapers looked like carefully arranged building blocks. The reflective glass facades gleamed with a bright, almost blinding light, occasionally flashing into view despite the distance.

Qin Li’s gaze was fixed on the tallest of those glittering structures.

Sunlight bathed his tall figure in a warm golden hue, but there was an indefinable coldness about him, an isolation that clung to him, distancing him from the warmth. His dark eyes swirled with something ominous, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

After a long moment, he drew the curtains and returned to his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration.

The villa was eerily silent. The lively activity that once filled the space had all but vanished. The new staff members kept to their duties without a word, and none dared enter his private quarters without reason. The absence of footsteps made the building feel hollow, lifeless.

Yet, compared to the previous hustle and bustle, this stillness suited Qin Li just fine.

At least here, he could grasp some semblance of security.

The laughable illusion of not being watched.

A cold, mocking smile curled at the corners of his lips.

It had taken time, but he had finally rooted out all the spies his uncle had planted in this mountain retreat during his period of mental instability. Replacing them with his own trusted people had been a satisfying victory. He wasn’t so far gone that he had to endure humiliation in his own home.

His uncle had overreached.

So greedy. Does he think there are no consequences?

Qin Li’s thoughts grew darker as he imagined the reactions back at the Qin family estate once news of his purge reached them.

Since his exile to this mountain villa, the main residence had fallen under his uncle’s complete control. The old patriarch, now senile and easily manipulated, had been thoroughly deceived. And Qin Li, once the brilliant heir, had been discarded like worthless trash the moment his illness surfaced.

At first, his uncle had still seen him as a threat, keeping a watchful eye on his condition through spies in the villa. But as time passed and Qin Li remained in a haze of instability, his uncle had grown complacent, content with reports that he was no longer a threat. His uncle had turned his full attention to seizing control of the Qin empire, convinced that his nephew was finished.

Most of this Qin Li had learned from the treacherous steward he had interrogated—the man had confessed everything under pressure. The rest had come from the few remaining contacts he still had within the Qin conglomerate.

He really does want me dead.

Qin Li’s lips twisted into a cold smile. He could almost taste the panic his uncle would feel once the truth came out.

Not that he would be there to witness it. His purge had been swift, clean, and discreet, masked under plausible excuses. By the time his uncle realized what had happened, it would be far too late.

But Qin Li had other ways to make his presence known.

He had lurked in the shadows long enough. It was time for certain people to taste the consequences.

His eyes glittered with a dangerous light.

Suddenly, a shrill, incessant "RING-RING-RING!" sliced through the silence. The sound was unbearable, a noise so loud it felt as if it could pierce through the roof.

Qin Li’s dark musings were cut off abruptly.

He glared at the source: a ridiculous, cartoonish husky-shaped alarm clock perched on the corner of his desk, its beady eyes wide and mocking.

Expressionless, he picked it up and threw it aside.

The clock hit the floor with a thud, but it continued to ring stubbornly, its dog face tilting sideways as if to taunt him.

With a deep, audible sigh, Qin Li squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. Finally, with great reluctance, he stalked over and slammed his palm down on the off button.

Silence.

A knock came at the door.

"Sir," came Uncle Zhong’s voice from outside. "It’s time for your medication."

Qin Li gritted his teeth, his face darkening with frustration. After a tense pause, he let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff.

Somehow, Uncle Zhong heard it anyway and entered, carrying a pill bottle and a glass of water.

"Sir."

He offered them to Qin Li.

Qin Li took them with visible distaste.

Uncle Zhong’s gaze drifted to the toppled alarm clock on the desk. Amused, he righted it, restoring the husky’s vacant, idiotic stare—an expression that somehow looked both brainless and defiant.

Qin Li’s eye twitched.

His mood darkened further.

Uncle Zhong smiled benignly. "Dr. Xu’s idea was quite clever. It helps remind you when it’s time for your medicine."

Qin Li snorted. "Is that so? I disagree."

His glare flicked toward the clock before he pointedly turned away.

The clock—this hideous, unbreakable monstrosity—had been brought in by that meddlesome private doctor, Xu Xiliu. It was likely a small act of retaliation for being used as a pawn during the staff purge. Though Xu Xiliu never voiced his complaints, his actions spoke volumes.

Wherever he had found this thing, Qin Li couldn’t understand. It was indestructible, impervious to being thrown or smashed, and loud enough to wake the dead across three floors. Qin Li had briefly considered tracking down the manufacturer just to demand what unholy materials they had used.

With a stony expression, he poured the pills into his palm, preparing to take them all at once—

Only for Uncle Zhong to stop him.

The butler nudged the glass of water closer. "Dr. Xu said you should take them one at a time, with water. To avoid choking."

Qin Li froze. His handsome face darkened ominously, and his jaw clenched as he ground out, "I wasn’t aware you had become so obedient to his orders."

Uncle Zhong, who had watched Qin Li grow up, understood that his temper was the result of years of hardship. Unfazed, he smiled and simply replied, "Dr. Xu only has your best interests at heart. Following medical advice will help you recover."

Qin Li’s temple throbbed. He closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment to center himself.

He swallowed the pills as instructed, though not without crushing two in his grip out of sheer frustration, forcing him to replace them. Once he had drained the entire glass, Uncle Zhong departed, satisfied, carefully closing the door behind him.

Left alone again, Qin Li’s expression shifted, the shadow of his thoughts flickering across his face.

This private doctor of mine... isn’t he overstepping?

He had purged the villa of all untrustworthy elements, yet Xu Xiliu, the one person who had been by his side since his illness began, had slipped under his radar.

Without him noticing, Xu Xiliu had insinuated himself into his routine—his dietary habits, his medication schedule, even Uncle Zhong’s trust.

What’s his game?

Qin Li’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

After a moment, he reached for the phone and dialed. His voice was cold as he ordered, "Dig into Xu Xiliu’s background. Send me everything."