The Protagonist is Always Intimidating Me - Chapter 52

Mo Hankui advanced, his handsome face hardened with a chilling detachment. His black whip trailed on the ground, creating an abrasive sound as it scraped against the floor with each step he took.

Lan Wei broke the tension with a laugh, his deep blue eyes glancing at Mo Hankui, who exuded an icy aura. “Alright, alright, why the long face? Hall Master Mo, ease up on your grim aura, or no one’s going to like you! Just look at that sour expression—who’s rubbing you the wrong way, who do you want to cut down? Save it for when we’re in private.”

Mo Hankui: “……”

Bai Meng lifted his gaze, his dark eyes showing no discernable emotion as they settled on Lan Wei.

Hamsters were naturally sensitive, so Bai Meng had always been able to discern who harbored malice toward Mo Hankui. But only now did he truly sense it coming from Lan Wei.

Lan Wei dislikes Mo Hankui.

Strange… They had no previous interactions.

Bai Meng frowned slightly, a barely noticeable trace of regret in his eyes.

After all, Lan Wei wasn’t a bad person, though his words could be a bit harsh…

But if that animosity is genuine, then I’d better…

His dark eyes flickered briefly before returning to their usual calm, burying all his thoughts beneath their ink-black depths, allowing others to look but impossible to decipher.

“I really am Lan Wei. Why doesn’t anyone believe me…” Lan Wei wiped away imaginary tears in a mock gesture, his gaze deep as the sea. “Or could it be that… you were the ones who killed Lan Wei?”

“……”

A sudden silence enveloped the room.

Feng Suiling probably hadn’t expected this “fake Lan Wei” to suddenly raise a question. A hint of panic flashed in his eyes but was quickly suppressed. He composed himself with a regretful smile on his delicate face.

“When our Yinchen Hall guards arrived, Elder Lan Wei was already dead. We found a mask on his face…”

As he finished speaking, one of the Yinchen Hall guards stepped forward, holding a blood-stained, silver-blue half-mask.

“……”

Lan Wei’s expression shifted as he glanced at the mask. He instantly conjured a talisman inscribed with a drawing, which transformed from mere ink on paper into a large, tangible white tiger in front of him.

The emergence of the white tiger changed the expressions of everyone present, especially Feng Suiling of the Yinchen Hall guard, who now looked not only incredulous but also deeply frightened.

The white tiger lunged at the person holding the mask, slashing his throat with its sharp claws. The tiger’s swift and precise movement left the man unable to call for help from his comrades before he succumbed to death.

The white tiger then carried the mask back to Lan Wei, who patted its large head with one hand while taking the mask from its mouth with the other.

The tiger purred contentedly under Lan Wei’s touch, curling up at his feet, its thick white tail swaying from time to time.

“What in the world…?”

“So Lan Wei really isn’t dead…”

“Then what is Captain Feng Suiling talking about? Trying to provoke conflict between Yinchen Hall and Lanxi Hall…?”

“Who knows… By the way, does anyone know who the deceased was…?”

The murmurs of onlookers outside seeped in, yet inside the tavern, everyone remained unusually silent.

After all, seeing a giant and fierce tiger, albeit acting cute yet still with traces of blood on its claws could dampen anyone’s urge to speak casually.

Lan Wei looked silently at the silver mask in his hand, his slender fingers tracing the edges of the ghost mask.

It was a silver-blue ghost mask covering half the face, with a long, red stroke trailing from the corner of the eye. It appeared worn from years of use, bearing marks of age, and even the bloodstains on it had faded and lost their once-shocking allure.

“I am Lan Wei…” Lan Wei put on the mask with neither joy nor sorrow. The fierce design of the ghost mask, combined with his deep blue eyes, lent him the wild aura of a lone wolf, further enhanced by his ocean-blue hair.

“But… So what?”

Bai Meng looked over, catching sight of Lan Wei, who stood by the white tiger with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. Beneath the ghost mask, his gaze seemed a mix of sorrow and mirth.