Deceitful Game

Chapter 128 [Two Faces]

Gao Fan pondered for a moment, then instinctively walked to the elevator and pressed the button to open it.

However, after pressing the button, the elevator did not come down.

The main door was wide open, but there was no elevator inside, only an extremely long, pure white corridor.

Gao Fan led Ming Po through the elevator doors.

It was so long, with no end in sight. There was complete silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps.

They didn't know how long they had walked; it was as if time had stood still, or as if only a moment had passed.

Suddenly, the flat corridor began to slope—it had somehow turned from flat ground into an upward-sloping path, making it even slightly difficult to walk on. "...So that's how it is, it was a dream."

Mingpo suddenly realized.

He felt he was beginning to understand the structure of the "palace"... It seemed to be a dream of the palace lord, but it was definitely not a good dream, or a dream that could put people at ease.

If the anchor point is the most reassuring thing... then the palace extending from it seems to be the most unsettling thing. Why then does the "vast palace" I recalled in my dreams appear so beautiful?

The moment Mingper realized it was a dream, a door suddenly appeared to his right.

Mingpo grabbed Gao Fan, who hadn't seen the door at all and was still walking forward unconsciously.

After being pulled back by Mingpo, Gao Fan followed Mingpo's gaze to the side—only then did he see that there was an extra door. Previously, he was certain that he had not seen it at all.

"I'll do it."

Mingpo grabbed Gao Fan by the back of the collar as he tried to push the door open, and said in a serious but soft voice.

He slowly opened the door.

Inside the door was the president's office—or rather, part of the president's office.

Within the vast, unpartitioned space of approximately 140 to 150 square meters, there is a water bar, a desk with a computer and comfortable sofa, a long discussion table with seven seats, and a tea area with a TV, sound system, sofa, and coffee table.

Compared to the company's size, it seems rather unassuming.

Just then, a clear voice rang out: "Xiao Fan, you've brought friends? Let's find a place to sit down."

Unlike Gao Fan's standard and clear Mandarin, this was a very strong dialect. It wasn't Shanghainese, but Wenzhou dialect, which even Ming Po couldn't quite understand.

"...Uncle."

Gao Fan sighed softly, "Long time no see."

There was not a trace of fear in his voice.

After actually meeting Gao Song, he was not so afraid anymore.

Mingpo looked in the direction of the voice and saw a young man with a rather good temperament...?

Gao Fan was a rather handsome young man, and his youthful face gave him a rather androgynous appearance.

His uncle bears a resemblance to him, about 50-60%, and looks somewhat like Fei Yuqing with larger eyes, or Zhao Dongchu from the TV series "The Grand Dyeing Workshop".

He was dressed in a suit and tie, with jet-black, shiny hair, and looked young and handsome.

He was completely unrecognizable as Gao Fan's uncle; he should be in his sixties or seventies this year—he looked more like a promising young man in his thirties. Even calling him "the uncle's son" seemed too young; he was entirely different from the middle-aged man Ming Po had seen in her research. At that moment, Gao Song was near the bar, drinking alone with a glass of golden liquor.

He turned his head, his slightly rounded chin lifting as he looked up.

Gao Song gave a polite yet friendly smile.

He extended his hand, palm open, in a gesture of invitation: "Sit!"

"Your family is really interesting."

Mingpo sat down without any hesitation and poured herself a glass of wine: "Xiao Fan is almost thirty, but looks like thirteen. You should be over sixty this year, but look like you're in your early thirties."

"Your family's genes are like those discount coupons—spend 30 and get 18 off, spend 50 and get 30 off. I'm so envious."

"Ha ha ha ha"

Gao Song laughed heartily: "Then that's inaccurate! Xiao Fan isn't even thirty yet."

He looked at Gao Fan, a slight smile playing on his lips: "What a pity... we probably won't make it."

"...Uncle."

Gao Fan didn't sit down, but stood next to Ming Po. Even so, he was still shorter than Ming Po, who was sitting on a bar stool. He looked at Gao Song seriously and asked, "I have a question for you."

"Oh~"

When Gao Song faced Gao Fan, he switched to a dialect that Ming Po couldn't quite understand: "We should ask, otherwise you won't be at peace even in death. Okay, ask away—I guess you want to know, how did you die?"

Before Gao Fan could speak, Gao Song flashed a hearty smile and raised his glass to him: "You guessed right, Xiao Fan. I killed him." "...Why?"

"That's the second question."

Gao Song's smile was exceptionally bright and cheerful: "I only said I would answer one question, not that I had to answer everything."

"Did you kill my father too?"

Gao Fan ignored Gao Song's reaction and reply, staring only at his uncle who had once doted on him: "Why?"

"Xiao Feng Xiang..."

Gao Song smiled, but still didn't answer the question. He simply picked up his wine glass and said to himself, "What would you like to drink? I have plenty of good wine here."

Gao Fan's father is "Gao Feng".

Xiaofeng was Gao Song's nickname for him.

"Songbo".

"Yes, I'm listening!"

"What exactly do you want? You killed so many people... just for the company?"

Gao Fan countered, "Since you've already become a con artist, if all you want is money, there are plenty of ways, aren't there?" "Just?"

Upon hearing Gao Fan's words, Gao Song's tone changed for the first time.

He paused in his act of picking up the wine glass, turned around and looked at Gao Fan seriously, then couldn't help but laugh.

"See that? A rich kid."

He pointed at Gao Fan and said politely to Ming Po, "You must be exhausted. Playing with kids born with a silver spoon in their mouths must be tiring, right?"

"fine."

Mingpo gave a brief reply.

He swirled his wine glass, a half-smile playing on his lips.

Gao Song didn't pay any attention to Ming Po at all.

He simply turned to look at Gao Fan, and said with a pained expression, "Things aren't like they used to be. You've left home now, and not so many people will look after you anymore. Everyone's an adult, very busy. Everyone has their own families to take care of..."

He stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence.

He slowly lowered his head.

At some point, Gao Song discovered a dagger lodged in his heart.

That was the gift Gao Fan had given him earlier.

Gao Song looked up at Ming Po and took a serious look at him for the first time.

"Impressive, young man."

He exclaimed, "I didn't even notice when you started it... What does your family do?"

"Home, home..."

Gao Fan suddenly erupted, his emotions spiraling out of control: "How can there be so many 'family's'! Being good at business is family, being good at studying is family, but being good at killing is also family?! Did you learn to kill from your family?"

This was the first time Mingpo had seen Gao Fan get angry.

Well...

That's a bit too polite.

I don't know if this counts as swearing, but the aggressive tone is like being coquettish.

Despite Mingpo's assassination attempt and Gao Fan's rage, Gao Song remained calm and composed.

He slowly, inch by inch, pulled the dagger that had sunk into his heart.

"Ah, so it's this knife."

Gao Song laughed, "Isn't this the one I gave to Xiao Feng back then? What a cycle of cause and effect, karma is swift and certain..."

He looked at Gao Fan, and the bright smile on his face changed slightly.

Although it looked the same as before, Mingpo suddenly felt that the smile had become somewhat "pale" and somewhat hypocritical.

"You're right, Xiao Fan."

Gao Song's lips curled up, but his voice turned icy: "I learned to kill from my family, from your grandfather."

As he finished speaking, two crisp claps rang out.

Space and time are simultaneously distorted

When Mingpo and Gao Fan regained consciousness, they found themselves still in this space.

They were sitting at the long table with "seven seats" that they had seen when they entered the room.

A stunningly beautiful woman with black hair appeared at some point in the main seat to the side.

To Mingpo's left was Gao Fan, and to his right was an empty seat.

Mingpo was facing Gao Song directly, with empty spaces on both sides of him.

"Nice to meet you both..."

She placed her hands in front of her and rose to respectfully bow to the three people at the table.

In that soft, gentle tone, though his Mandarin pronunciation wasn't perfect, there was a strange, almost mocking quality that seemed capable of easily provoking others: "Let me introduce myself, I am [Twenty Faces]."

"I am the host of 'Mistletoe,' please give me your guidance."