High-level martial arts: Long spear with black flames to suppress demons.

Zhang Qingqing bit her lip and asked again, "Do my parents... do they know that you go on these dangerous missions every night?"

Shen Chang'an nodded, swallowing the last bite of rice: "Of course they know. But you absolutely cannot mention a single word of what you saw here today, or about the Zhenye Division, to anyone outside. Otherwise, it will not only get you into big trouble, but it will also implicate Uncle Zhang and Aunt Li. The consequences of violating confidentiality regulations are very serious."

Old Zhao chimed in at the opportune moment, "That's right. According to regulations, ordinary people who come into contact with extraordinary events must have their memories erased immediately. The reason we're giving you this special treatment today is simply because you're the child of a former senior officer of the Night Watch, and you're also nominally the sister of our top leader. Anyone else would have been taken to the medical department for brainwashing long ago."

Zhang Qingqing nodded obediently, feeling her head throbbing with too much information: "I understand... I need to digest this."

By this time, Bai Yin had already devoured the food on her plate in a flash. She took a tissue to wipe her mouth, stood up, picked up her plate, and said to Li Xiwan, "Xiwan, I'm full. I'm going to warm up at the training ground now!"

"Okay, I'll be there right after I finish eating."

Li Xiwan smiled and nodded.

Seeing that everyone had almost finished eating, Shen Chang'an stood up, stacked the empty plates together, and said to Zhang Qingqing, "Let's go, I'll take you home first. Go home, take a shower, change into a clean school uniform, and go to school as usual this afternoon. Just treat what happened today as an absurd dream, as if nothing ever happened, and you'll feel better after a good night's sleep."

Zhang Qingqing looked up at him, opened her mouth as if a thousand words were stuck in her chest, yet she didn't know where to begin. In the end, she could only nod silently.

The two said goodbye to Lao Zhao and Li Xiwan, then turned and left the cafeteria.

The underground parking lot of the branch was somewhat cold and quiet.

Zhang Qingqing stopped in front of the pink scooter. She looked down at her toes, her hands gripping the strap of her canvas bag tightly, and finally asked the question that had been nagging at her.

"Shen Chang'an, why did you keep this from me all this time?"

Zhang Qingqing looked up at the boy in front of her, her eyes slightly red. "And also, for the past two years, no matter how much I belittled you at home, how I called you a good-for-nothing who only knows how to loaf around and wait to die, why did you never say a word in rebuttal?"

Shen Chang'an paused for a moment, holding the helmet.

He turned around, looked at the girl who was questioning him with her head down, and a peaceful smile appeared on his lips.

"Keeping it from you was Uncle Zhang's decision."

Shen Chang'an handed her the helmet, his voice echoing in the empty parking lot.

"Uncle Zhang and Aunt Li have suffered too much in this line of work and witnessed too much life and death. From the day they retired, they never intended to tell you these things. They just wanted you to grow up safely, get into a good university, find a decent job after graduation, and live a stable life. They don't want you to get involved in this mess."

"Besides, telling you would only cause you more trouble."

Shen Chang'an paused, his tone very calm.

"Actually, Uncle Zhang secretly tested your talent when you were very young. You have no aptitude for cultivation; you're just an ordinary person."

Upon hearing that she was unable to cultivate, Zhang Qingqing's eyes dimmed slightly.

"As for what you say about me at home, I really don't care."

Shen Chang'an leaned back in his car seat, his gaze becoming somewhat profound. "My life was given to me by Uncle Zhang back then. Your family took me in and let me live in that house for so long."

"People should always learn to be grateful."

Shen Chang'an smiled.

"Compared to the life Uncle Zhang gave me, what do a few words from you matter?"

After hearing these words, the parking lot fell into a long, deathly silence.

Zhang Qingqing stood there blankly. She had originally thought that Shen Chang'an's tolerance for her was more or less due to his taciturn personality, and even... even at one point, she narcissistically thought it was because she was pretty that he gave her a little bit of special indulgence.

But now, this cruel truth has shattered her girlish illusions.

Zhang Qingqing took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly from the effort of self-control, and asked the last question:

"So... all the tolerance and care you've given me over the years was actually just because of my parents, right?"

Shen Chang'an looked into the girl's eyes, which were glistening with tears and held a hint of stubbornness and expectation, and fell silent.

The dim light shone on his face, obscuring his current emotions.

After a moment, he nodded slightly and gave an answer:

"right."

Zhang Qingqing's heart felt as if it had been suddenly clenched by something, and an indescribable feeling of bitterness instantly welled up in her nose.

She didn't ask any more questions or say anything more. She simply put on her helmet silently and climbed onto the back of the scooter.

Shen Chang'an didn't say anything more, and turned the key to start the car.

With a faint hum of the motor, the car emerged from the dark underground base, speeding towards Guanlan Prefecture into the glaring midday sun. The two remained silent the entire way, the only sound the whistling of the wind in their ears.

When they returned to the Guanlan Mansion villa, the first floor was quiet, and Zhang Hai and Li Yue were taking a nap.

The two tiptoed upstairs. Reaching the door, Shen Chang'an stopped and casually remarked, "After you change your clothes, just put them in the washing machine outside."

After saying that, he didn't even wait for Zhang Qingqing to speak before pushing open the door and entering his room, closing it with a "click".

Zhang Qingqing opened her mouth, but seeing the tightly closed door, she had no choice but to swallow back the words she hadn't yet uttered. She returned to her room, changed out of the oversized clothes, carefully folded them, put them in the washing machine in the hallway, and then went back to her bedroom.

She collapsed onto the soft bed, as if all her strength had been drained. Turning her head, she looked at the ugly-cute doll with the three large characters "Shen Chang'an" written on it beside her pillow. The despair she felt in the bathroom earlier that day, and that figure that seemed capable of sweeping away everything, kept flashing through her mind. Unconsciously, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and she finally closed her eyes tightly.

Before we knew it, it was past six in the evening.

Shen Chang'an's knocking voice came from outside the door: "Zhang Qingqing, come downstairs for dinner."

Zhang Qingqing woke up with a start, glanced at the darkening sky outside the window, quickly got up, changed into her Qingzhou No. 1 Middle School uniform, tidied her hair a little, and dawdled downstairs.

As she walked into the restaurant, Zhang Qingqing looked at her parents sitting at the table serving rice. Her eyes darted around, and she felt a chill run down her spine, fearing that she was about to be met with a torrent of abuse.

However, Zhang Hai and Li Yue seemed completely oblivious to anything amiss. Li Yue placed a bowl of soup in front of her, smiling and complaining, "You silly girl, even if you're tired from studying at the library, don't sleep for so long. You haven't made a sound all afternoon. Hurry up and eat while it's hot."

Hearing this, Zhang Qingqing secretly breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced at Shen Chang'an, who was quietly eating across from her, and realized that he really hadn't told her parents anything. She obediently sat down, picked up her rice bowl, and unusually refrained from complaining at the table.