That Damned Creepy Uncle

**Northern Club**

At the heart of the club stood a grand hall bar. The lighting was dim, dark-red floor lamps casting a glow that made the floor look as though it were blanketed in a luminous crimson carpet.

The entire hall bar was styled in a European fashion: mounted elk heads adorned walls covered in religious-motif murals, silver goblets and cutlery were displayed along the length of the counter, and even the bartender behind the bar was a handsome Westerner.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

"Mariana — don't fill it too full. I'll have something far more satisfying to drink in a little while." A pale-faced patron replied.

He knocked the drink back in one go, not leaving a single drop, pouring it straight down his throat — as though steeling himself for what he was about to do next.

"Damn it all. Who the hell is trying to make trouble for me? I should have killed that kid on the spot that night. They probably still haven't seen my face — what a waste. But no prey has ever escaped my grasp, and Liu Ru will be no exception!" the pale man muttered to himself.

What he hadn't noticed was that not far away in the same lounge, a little girl — the very picture of harmless innocence — was quietly nursing a glass of juice while keeping a careful eye on him.

This was a club for the wealthy. Several villa communities stood nearby, and affluent families often brought their children along for outings, so a child sitting in the hall bar wasn't unusual at all.

The girl had a phone in her hand, chatting with someone.

"Hello there, little miss. What's a girl your age doing here all by herself?" A distinguished-looking middle-aged man approached with a warm smile.

Lingling raised her head. Those eyes — which held a sharpness she kept carefully concealed — now shimmered with wide, guileless innocence. She pouted, the very image of a sulking child. "I hate studying magic. It's nothing but questions, questions, questions all day long. How come adults get to come here and drink, while we kids have to sit through all that boring stuff? I want to drink too, but that annoying foreign man won't let me order anything."

The middle-aged man burst out laughing, momentarily at a loss for how to respond to her surprisingly entertaining complaint. After a moment he managed: "A child who questions her elders is hardly a well-behaved child. How about this — I just ordered a drink and haven't touched it yet. I'll let you have one tiny sip, and then you'll understand that even the most expensive alcohol tastes absolutely awful."

Lingling nodded, maintaining her look of pure, wide-eyed innocence.

Once the middle-aged man stepped away, she glanced toward the pale figure at the bar — only to find, to her considerable irritation, that he had vanished without a trace. He'd slipped away at some point, not making a sound.

*Damned creepy uncle*, Lingling thought, seething inwardly. *You've ruined everything.*

From start to finish, she had never managed to get a clear look at the vampire's face. It was strangely baffling — he seemed to generate his own natural blur. Every time she tried to focus on him, a hazy mist would settle over his features, obscuring them completely. If she could only see his face, pinning down his identity would be easy enough.

Still, if he frequented this place regularly, he was most likely one of the wealthy residents living in the nearby villa district.

"Here you go — just one sip." The middle-aged man returned with a chuckle, having thoughtfully switched to a much smaller glass.

"Uncle, do you know that man who was just at the bar?" Lingling asked.

"Why do you want to know?" the distinguished man replied.

"I heard people say that girls who come to bars are usually here to meet men. I want to try that too," Lingling said.

"Why him, then? Am I not a man?" He couldn't hold back his laughter. "Though I have to say, you are the most entertaining little girl I've ever met."

"Fair point. But do you know him?" Lingling pressed.

The middle-aged man studied her, the hall's dim lighting casting a subtle gradient across his eyes as he looked at her — as if trying to see right through the girl. But all he found was a face of stubborn, unaffected innocence.

After a moment, he smiled and shook his head. "He looks vaguely familiar, but I honestly don't know who he is."

"That's too bad. I really wanted to meet him," Lingling said.

The middle-aged man laughed again. "Someone like him wouldn't be interested in a little girl like you. He definitely goes for very mature women — not some kid who sneaks into an adults' club just because she doesn't want to study."

"Alright, I should head back. If my dad gets home and finds me gone, he'll come hunting for me for sure. Thanks, uncle." Lingling stuck out her tongue and stood to leave.

The middle-aged man glanced at the small, untouched glass and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't want even one sip? I think after you taste it, you'll stop wanting to grow up so fast."

"No, thank you. I heard that alcohol makes your face go red. If my dad finds out, he'll lock me in my room for a whole month." Lingling drained the last of her juice and made a swift exit.

The middle-aged man watched the bright, adorable girl walk out of the hall bar. His gaze looked calm on the surface, but a faint, unsettling smile played at the corner of his lips.

Not long after Lingling had gone, the pale-faced man from the bar sauntered over and settled into the seat across from him with a grin. "All these years, and your tastes haven't changed one bit."

With that, he drained what remained in the small glass in a single swallow.

"A shame, really — she showed some interest in you. I prodded around a little; she seems like a completely ordinary girl." The middle-aged man's smile remained easy and relaxed. "Of course, if I happen to run into her a second time, 'ordinary' won't describe her for much longer."

"Then why did you let her walk away? Sharp little ones like that don't come along often," the pale man said.

"Because of you, that's why. The fact that someone has their eye on you means our kind have already been detected. Making any further moves right now would only make us easier to expose. We need to keep a low profile for a while — caution in everything." The middle-aged man's voice was measured, but firm.

"What's there to be afraid of? I was only spotted by some small-time Mage, and I didn't even actually do anything." The pale man leaned back with an arrogant sneer.

The middle-aged man's eyes went cold in an instant. He snatched a piece of cutlery from the table and drove it toward the pale man's face — stopping it a hair's breadth from his eyeball.

"How many times have I told you — don't let your prey die too quickly, and don't keep targeting the same prey over and over again. You've already drawn suspicion. You could put us all in a very uncomfortable position. I've already ordered the others to stay completely still and make no moves. I have no intention of losing any more members of this family."

The middle-aged man's face had twisted into something ferocious and merciless.