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Chapter 277. Xu Huan
[Predictive Home]

Xu Huan stared at the back of the figure in black robes and a broom, and the name that was both strange and familiar suddenly came to mind.

He hadn't seen her for many years, but he recognized her instantly when they met again.

This is certainly not due to any special insight he might have, or any other nonsense about having a strong impression of his arch-enemy.

Xu Huan was able to recognize her instantly only because his talent, "presence," only failed him in front of that person.

—Because her serial number is too high.

Just like his name suggests, Xu Huan's talent [Presence] can reduce his own presence, making him appear like the most inconspicuous passerby, easily overlooked by others.

The Light Giant does not reveal his true form; his "presence" is his best weapon for concealing himself.

While other strategists could only operate from afar, Xu Huan was able to remain unscathed even while deeply involved in the situation.

His talent could have helped him rise rapidly in rank and become a shining new star among the strategists of the Light.

Until he met that person.

I first met her on the night of the Lantern Festival ten years ago.

The lights of countless homes illuminated the long street as if it were daytime. Xu Huan stood at one end of the stone bridge, meticulously arranging a perfect scheme.

The bridge is open and roofless, with no surveillance cameras around. His talent [Presence] allows him to blend into the bustling background of the Lantern Festival. Even if someone passes by him, their gaze will unconsciously drift away, as if avoiding an insignificant stone.

This was supposed to be a flawless plan, but when the dazzling fireworks, accompanied by the planned firelight, burst into the darkness—amidst the horrified clamor of the crowd—he inexplicably looked up.

At that very moment, the young Xu Huan saw a pair of eyes as black as ink by the window on the second floor of the teahouse.

She wore a white robe with gold patterns and stared intently at him amidst the vast crowd.

The vast crowd surged and clamored, but she stared intently at him, as if her gaze lingered only on him.

This scene would be romantic in any storybook, but it's not funny at all in real life.

When his gaze pierced through the barrier of "presence" and dissected all his pretenses with the precision of a scalpel, Xu Huan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

His innate abilities were still functioning, and although his presence had been reduced to a minimum, that gaze was like sunlight piercing through the morning mist, revealing him completely.

Under the absolute suppression of his superior status, feelings of inferiority, like countless tiny poisonous ants, were gnawing upwards along his spine.

He heard the soft sound of his teeth chattering, a fine layer of cold sweat seeping from his palms, and the fabric of his shirt on the back was soaked through, sticking stickily to his spine.

Xu Huan's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, the sound of swallowing drowned out by the sudden uproar behind him.

"Wow————"

The roar of the water made the lights pale in comparison.

Yin Cheng'ai, the tycoon of water-based warfare, stood suspended in mid-air amidst towering waves, the hem of her moon-white cheongsam soaked with water vapor. With a flick of her fingertips, a torrent of water transformed into a raging torrent, extinguishing Xu Huan's meticulously planned fire without leaving even a spark.

The law of "presence" twisted and flowed in the air. Yin Cheng'ai's gaze swept across the deserted stone bridge, finally settling on the white-robed girl behind the carved window of the teahouse, and she nodded slightly.

As the gaze shifted, the stare disappeared.

Xu Huan saw the Prophet's last glance at him, so casual, like a beast letting its prey go, with a hint of smug mockery.

"Well……"

He could clearly feel his face turning pale, his arms trembling uncontrollably, and he even coughed up blood in pain under the intense emotional stimulation, forcing him to pull down his hat brim to cover his face.

"Your schemer, has the plan failed?" The blind man walked up from the other side of the bridge, leaning on his cane, and said in a weak voice.

Xu Huan wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and said slowly:

"I still have a backup plan. No one will find out that we did it. It's just that things have deviated greatly from what we expected."

He glanced silently at the river.

"Didn't the higher-ups order the blind master to kill Yin Cheng'ai before? How come she's still alive?"

The blind doctor smiled shyly:
“Yin Cheng’ai lives near the main stream of the Cangjiang River and is a major player in the water system. He’s not so easy to kill. Just dealing with the transformation pathways of the water system is difficult enough.”

She thought for a moment, then suddenly said gently:
"Does the schemer know that Yin Cheng has an ordinary husband in ordinary society?"

"Ok?"

Xu Huan was taken aback for a moment, then quickly said:
"I heard he's a government official, and I know exactly where his office is."

The blind man smiled and said:

"That's great. I need to set up a simple trap. As for Rose Transportation, I'll need a schemer to cover it up."

……

After that night at the Lantern Festival, Xu Huan never faced the Premonition House again.

But her strategy remained entangled in his plans, repeatedly and precisely thwarting his schemes.

The strategies of top strategists always bear a distinct personal imprint, and their style of predicting the sequence is particularly unique—they always place their pieces at the most critical points, delivering a fatal blow at the most crucial moment.

The long game had sharpened Xu Huan's senses, and he could sense that familiar, chilling aura with just the slightest movement of the chessboard.

At that time, the Parallel Family's mind had not yet collapsed, and her abilities as a normal person would not have reached one-tenth of what they are now. The Predictive Family has always been Xu Huan's most troublesome nemesis.

They clashed countless times, and Xu Huan suffered defeats almost every time.

Later on, whenever he sensed any signs of being pre-emptively involved, driven by surging hatred and pure rage, he would not hesitate to abandon his position and withdraw—preferring to lose all his previous efforts rather than let his mortal enemy gain even the slightest advantage.

This morbid tug-of-war continued until the rainy season one year. A high fever sent Xu Huan to the hospital, and when she was discharged, she was shocked to learn that her family had been locked up in a mental hospital.

Considering that person's abilities, he always felt that something was amiss.

After being discharged from the hospital, he made a special trip to the mental hospital to visit her.

Standing before the viewing window, the sage behind the iron bars was still wearing that white robe. He had intended to test her true intentions, but instead heard her calmly say:

"Xu Huan, you're a pitiful person too."

Rainwater trickled down the iron bars of the window, her voice mingling with the pattering sound:
"A brilliant strategist, but unfortunately he only has twelve years left to live."

Xu Huan's knuckles were clenched so tightly they turned white.

"Your name is Xu Huan."

She suddenly smiled, but her eyes were filled with ice.

"Your mother wished you to be happy all your life. So do you remember—how she died?"

That day, Yuzhijia said a lot, but it was all swallowed up by the continuous sound of rain.

All that remained was a lingering hatred and a vague, inexplicable melancholy.