Who says I can't kill you?

"Who says I can't kill you?"

A voice suddenly echoed in the room, chilling and sinister as a wind blowing from the deepest abyss.

Fei Yingming's voice abruptly ceased, drowned in an endless cold that engulfed him. He stared ahead in despair, eyes wide, but nothing was there.

"No... can't... be, no..."

Before he could finish, the hand holding the gun was jerked upward, just as he was about to press the trigger. A fierce pain shot through his arm, and he screamed hoarsely.

A sharp object had pierced completely through his forearm, pinning it to the floor. His hand slackened, and the gun fell to the ground.

As Fei Yingming's anguished cries echoed, the wound in his arm, soaked in blood, slowly revealed the outline of a blade.

"You brought this on yourself. Don't blame me," the emotionless voice continued.

"No—ugh..."

A sudden chill swept across Fei Yingming's throat, cutting his words short. A torrent of hot liquid spilled from his neck. He pressed his hands desperately against his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it was futile.

His eyes brimmed with terror, watching death approach. As blood drained away, his strength faded, and cold seeped through his body.

"No. I can't die. I won't die. I won't die..."

He repeated these words endlessly in his mind.

His body began to tremble. His limbs convulsed. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, an overwhelming exhaustion washing over him.

At that moment, a gust of wind swept in from outside the door. On the brink of death, Fei Yingming saw a pair of eyes—black, with a trace of... pity?

Was it him?

It was him!

He had died at his hands! A surge of resentment and fury erupted in Fei Yingming's heart. From somewhere, he found strength, hurling himself forward toward those eyes. His body jerked once, then fell still.

Fei Yingming's corpse lay in a pool of bright crimson blood, his immaculate yellow suit drenched in stains. On his handsome face, a trace of ferocity lingered from the moment of death.

His eyes were wide open, refusing to close, that trace of unwillingness fading away along with his life.

Suddenly, a strange sigh echoed through the empty room. No matter what grudges existed in life, with death, all became nothingness.

Ten minutes later, a scream shattered the tranquility of Green Lake Hotel...

Mingzhou City, First High School.

On the first day of the new term, the students were in high spirits, gathering in small groups to share stories from their holidays.

In contrast, the trio of Zhong Yun seemed subdued. Zhong Yun's face was weary, nodding off repeatedly; Chen Wen was brooding, unwilling to speak.

Seeing their silence, Tian Hai closed his mouth as well, picking up Zhong Yun's laptop to browse the internet.

"Fei Yingming is dead."

After a while, Chen Wen spoke abruptly, his eyes fixed on the window, as if discussing something trivial.

"Dead?" Zhong Yun's surprise was perfectly measured. "How did he die?"

"Who died?" Tian Hai, quick-eared, caught the word, dropped his game, and leaned in to ask.

"I don't know, Xiao Wen said Fei Yingming is dead," Zhong Yun explained.

Chen Wen turned his gaze to Zhong Yun, speaking each word deliberately, "He was murdered."

"Why are you looking at me?" Zhong Yun was a bit puzzled by his stare, laughing, "You don't think I did it, do you?"

But Chen Wen nodded, "Exactly. From the very beginning, I suspected you."

"Are you kidding?" Tian Hai protested, "Xiao Yun, a killer?" His voice was loud enough that classmates chatting nearby all turned to look at them, their eyes curious and odd.

The female class monitor glared fiercely at Tian Hai, complaining, "Can you keep it down? There are other students in the class. Mind the influence."

The teachers were all busy with other matters, having given instructions before letting students study on their own, leaving the class monitor to keep order.

Tian Hai smiled awkwardly and lowered his voice, "That's not a joke you can make lightly."

I'm not joking, Chen Wen sighed inwardly. Am I the only one who suspects him? Fei Yingming's death was an explosive bomb, stirring up a storm across all of Worr.

As one of the candidates for succession in a prominent family, Fei Yingming was murdered in the heavily guarded Green Lake Hotel, and in a brutal manner. The impact was extreme, shaking the nerves of countless high-ranking figures.

For years, Davor had an unwritten rule: once someone reached a certain status, assassination was strictly forbidden. Otherwise, the perpetrator would be blacklisted, unable to survive in society.

If one fought to reach such heights and still couldn't guarantee personal safety, what meaning was left in life? People share the same feelings, and this rule was especially intolerable among the elite.

Of course, this was also tied to social order; the rule only formed because society was stable.

Thus, Fei Yingming's death trampled on their most sensitive nerves. All the major families and factions were paying close attention, their intelligence agencies mobilized, offering substantial support to the Fei family.

Zhong Yun ended up on the suspect list because Fei Yingming's assistant—the middle-aged man who orchestrated the assassination attempt on Zhong Yun—revealed it.

The petty feud between Fei Yingming and Zhong Yun naturally became motive for murder.

Of course, the Chen family knew nothing of this; they were simply puzzled as to how the Fei family could trace things back to Zhong Yun so quickly. As the Fei family's archrival, the Chen family was the first to learn of Fei Yingming's death. Combined with their speculation about Zhong Yun's family background, their first suspect was Zhong Yun.

The Chen family quietly mobilized their intelligence network to investigate Zhong Yun's whereabouts the previous night, but found that he had spent the entire evening in a luxury suite at the Mingzhu Grand Hotel with a beautiful woman. They didn't leave until dawn, and there were no records of their departure during the night.

With this, Zhong Yun's suspicion was initially dismissed.

Yet, Chen Wen still harbored doubts. Based on his understanding, Zhong Yun wasn't the type to casually spend the night with a woman.

Something about it was unusual; Chen Wen sensed the scent of intrigue.

Finally, Chen Wen sighed, "I'm just saying." Whether Zhong Yun did it or not, it was best not to probe too deeply—pretending ignorance was the safest course.

If Zhong Yun really was the killer, with his mysterious ability to kill from a thousand miles away, there was no need to worry about him.

If he wasn't the killer, then asking was pointless.

Yet, deep down, Chen Wen couldn't shake the feeling that Fei Yingming's death was somehow connected to Zhong Yun, no matter how solid his alibi.