Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 45

When Wei Huan woke up, his communication system had already received a message from the school’s Combat Preparedness department.

[Hello, Wei Heng. Based on the comprehensive assessment of the Combat Preparedness department, congratulations on successfully qualifying. You’ve been placed in Group 7. Please report to the main gymnasium by 10 a.m. for the team briefing.]

Wei Huan sprang up from bed. “What the h*ll, Group Seven again!?”

After nearly ten years of going in circles, he was back in Combat Preparedness Group 7.

When Wei Huan huffed his way to the gym, he found three team members already standing there in group uniforms—two red, one blue. It was Yan Shanyue, Yang Ling, and Jing Yun.

“You guys again?” Wei Huan looked thoroughly disappointed, letting out a deep sigh. “I thought I was finally going to make some new friends. I even dressed up a little to make a good first impression. Total waste of emotional energy.”

The other three had clearly already been surprised when they saw each other, so Wei Huan’s appearance didn’t faze them. They gave him a synchronized, fake smile.

Yang Ling chuckled dryly. “This grouping… isn’t the least bit surprising.”

“But at least the school knows what it’s doing,” Wei Huan said as he squeezed in next to Yan Shanyue, nudging Yang Ling aside. “They assigned the great Shanyue to me. Excellent choice.”

“What do you mean to you?” Yang Ling’s temple twitched.

“Because I’m the team leader~” Wei Huan shamelessly raised his eyebrows at Jing Yun. “Right?”

Jing Yun nodded repeatedly. “Yep, I agree. Ah Heng is perfect for team leader.”

Yang Ling’s temper was just about worn down by Wei Huan’s thick skin. She simply yanked him away from Yan Shanyue and rolled her eyes at him again and again.

Wei Huan was quite pleased with the team lineup. Hands on hips, he glanced around at the other groups nearby. “Man, how is it that no matter the year, Group Seven always has the best-looking team?”

Yang Ling and Jing Yun said in unison, “What do you mean no matter the year?”

“Uh…” Wei Huan’s smugness faltered. Seeing Yan Shanyue’s look of “Let’s hear what you’ve got to say,” he quickly started bluffing. “I just mean, I heard that Instructor Yun, Instructor Yang, and Teacher Su were all in Combat Preparedness Group Seven back in the day. Look at the three of them, and now look at us four.” Wei Huan said with great seriousness, “Clearly, the tradition of Shanhai is that Group Seven is the ‘Too-Good-Looking-Not-to-Cause-Trouble’ squad.”

“The three of them. The four of us.” Yan Shanyue lazily lifted her gaze and stared into Wei Huan’s eyes. “Who’s the other one?”

Wei Huan froze. “Uh…”

The other one, standing right in front of you—this incredibly handsome guy, me.

Yang Ling spoke up first. “The other one is Brother Wei Huan.”

Wei Huan was stunned. This was the first time since his return that he’d heard Yang Ling say his name.

Ever since he found out he’d been branded a traitor after his death, he hadn’t dared bring up the old Nine Phoenix in front of Yang Ling. She’d been so young when it happened, probably with very few memories of him. If anything, she probably remembered that he dragged her father to his death.

He always thought she hated him.

So hearing her call him “Brother” caught him completely off guard—so much so that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Hearing the name, Jing Yun cautiously asked, “This ‘brother’ you’re talking about… is it the Nine Phoenix from back then?”

Yang Ling’s expression returned to her usual lady-of-the-house air. “Nine Phoenix is Nine Phoenix. Why add from back then? Even if he’s no longer here, he’s still Nine Phoenix.” After speaking, she turned her face slightly and caught sight of Wei Huan. “What’s with that look? You chopping onions or something?”

Before Wei Huan could speak, Jing Yun answered for him, “He really admires Nine Phoenix.”

Since the perfect excuse was handed to him, Wei Huan cleared his throat and quickly followed up. “Yeah, yeah.”

Yang Ling didn’t say more after that, but Jing Yun spoke again, a little hesitantly. “But I heard… I mean, everyone says Nine Phoenix, he might’ve…”

“Lies. Even my Bifang family hasn’t said anything, but those people just yap on and on. If I wanted to fake that kind of evidence, I could make a hundred copies. I don’t believe it. Brother Wei Huan would never betray anyone—he was framed.”

“But your father…”

Yang Ling cut him off, her tone calm. “My father is dead, but I know he never regretted it. Our Bifang clan doesn’t need anyone’s pity.”

My older brother has already suffered enough.

But he never once made me feel like I had to suffer for it too.

He told me firmly—no matter what others say, just hold true to your heart.

Yang Ling pressed her lips together in stubborn defiance. She poked Jing Yun in the forehead. “Little Chongming, if you said that in front of my brother, he’d get mad and never talk to you again. That’s his forbidden zone.”

Jing Yun got so scared he clapped both hands over his mouth.

“Brother said—no one has the right to hate him but himself. No one has the right to judge him either.”

That line hit straight in the heart.

Wei Huan suddenly felt his nose sting. He lowered his head, doing his best to hide the shift in his emotions.

At that moment, he felt like he was the luckiest person in the world.

Even though from a young age, others thought he’d been born with everything, life had only ever handed him hardship. His parents died one after the other, he didn’t live long himself before dying, and even his instructor gave up their life to save him.

When he opened his eyes again, he had fallen from heaven straight into h*ll. The aura and bloodline of a former son of heaven was gone—he was now just an ordinary human at the bottom of society, without identity, bullied and looked down upon, forced to cling to life and search for the truth.

Sometimes, he even wondered if his impulse to rebel was instinctive—something he never thought through, just a gut desire to fight fate.

Why?

He looked at the friends beside him.

Maybe… it was because of these people.

Wei Huan’s gaze shifted to Yang Ling. She was already bickering with Jing Yun again, the earlier topic completely forgotten.

Under the light, this girl with her twin ponytails suddenly transformed—becoming that soft, fair little dumpling from years ago, also wearing her hair in two braids. Back then, she’d always cling to him under the pretense of “looking for big brother,” riding gleefully on his shoulders, tugging at his ears with her pudgy little hands, and calling him “Brother Huan Huan” in a sweet, milky voice.

Every time they met, Wei Huan would use wind to conjure a small flower and tuck it into her soft hair.

[Brother Huan Huan, will you still make flowers for me when I grow up?]

[Of course.]

[When you grow up, I’ll make you an entire field of flowers.]

“What are you spacing out for, stupid human?”

Yang Ling’s voice pulled Wei Huan back to the present. He looked up and saw her turning her head to glance at him, still wearing that haughty little princess expression.

“Come on already, we’re supposed to gather. I’m not waiting for you.”

“Mm.”

Thank you for waiting for me.

Wei Huan silently followed behind, watching Yang Ling’s shadow fall on the ground—small, just like before.

So many years had passed. Yang Ling had changed from a spoiled, obedient child into a strong-willed girl—probably a kind of defensive armor she built for herself. Watching her laugh and joke up front, acting cute with Yan Shanyue, scaring Jing Yun with her lotus fire… Wei Huan, listening quietly, suddenly felt—being alive is wonderful.

Truly wonderful.

You grew up so well on your own, even when I wasn’t there.

He just didn’t know…

Were you still waiting for my wind flowers?

At the mobilization meeting, the speaker was still the same White Tiger Dean from back then. The words were more or less the same—everything boiled down to the word “responsibility.” But now, hearing it again, Wei Huan felt completely different.

“Combat Preparedness means always being prepared for battle. Behind you stands Shanhai; ahead of you lies the unknown. Never forget your responsibility.”

“To all 2,325 new members of the Combat Preparedness teams—welcome to the family.” Lin Zhengze swept his eyes over the crowd. “I hope that by the time you leave Shanhai, that number will remain unchanged.”

“Finally,” he stepped to the front of the gymnasium and personally raised the Shanhai school flag, “Combat Preparedness members—what is Shanhai’s motto?”

The massive gym erupted with a loud and unified shout, powerful and resonant:

“From destruction comes creation—benevolence is invincible!”

Wei Huan silently repeated it in his heart.

From destruction comes creation—benevolence is invincible…

He hadn’t understood the motto in the past. But now, it suddenly made sense.

Wei Huan couldn’t help but smile, looking up at the waving flag from within the crowd. The warm sunlight fell inch by inch across his face, lighting up his chest, clear and open.

Now was the time for creation through destruction.

After the meeting, Wei Huan was going to head back, but then received a message from Yan Shanyue. He turned, puzzled, and saw her standing less than ten meters away, giving him a subtle look.

[We settle the matter of the demon mark tonight.]

D*mn, this cool chick is way too efficient, Wei Huan thought, impressed.

While eating with Jing Yun, he kept mulling over how to get information. Even if he met Yan Shanyue’s cousin, the guy was some pampered rich kid—not someone he could just order around.

He should’ve gotten Ai Yao’s contact info when he had the chance. Regretting that, he also figured Ai Yao might not have helped anyway.

Where could he find a bad*ss little monster who’d do what he said and help extract confessions?

Just as Wei Huan was stuck in deep thought, he saw Jing Yun taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes—rubbing and rubbing.

He couldn’t help reminding him, “Hey, stop rubbing.”

Jing Yun looked up—and Wei Huan saw the Chong pupils.

Holy cr*p. A perfect candidate, right under his nose. He’d searched high and low…

Startled, Jing Yun panicked a bit when Wei Huan grabbed him like a chick in both hands. “W-What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just taking you out to see the world.” Wei Huan quickly messaged Yan Shanyue that he was bringing a “kid along,” then turned to Jing Yun and explained everything. He thought it was settled—only to be surprised when Jing Yun refused.

The kid was timid and afraid of trouble, and Wei Huan couldn’t force him. So he offered a deal: “Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

Jing Yun hesitated. “Then… will you go with me to Yunsheng Jiehai Pavilion?”

“You went last time, didn’t you?”

Jing Yun stammered, “I ran into Instructor Yang during lunch… he dragged me away. But I really wanted to see it.”

“Alright, after we finish this job, I’ll take you. I’ll catch jellyfish for you.”

With half coaxing, half tricking, Wei Huan finally got Jing Yun to go. Yan Shanyue had arranged to meet them outside the side gate of Shanhai. She wasn’t in uniform—just a black off-shoulder jumpsuit. Wei Huan was also dressed in black. Only Jing Yun wore a pink T-shirt, and he asked awkwardly, “Am I dressed too casually?”

Yan Shanyue chuckled but didn’t comment. She led the two of them forward, explaining as they walked, “My cousin’s currently under house arrest. We’ll use a barrier teleportation spell to get there.” Then she looked at Wei Huan, “Are you sure just seeing him will be enough?”

“I’m not,” Wei Huan said, pointing his thumb at Jing Yun. “But he is.”

Yan Shanyue crossed her arms. “Using force?”

“No way.” Wei Huan grinned like he had a trick up his sleeve. “He’s got skills.”

She didn’t question further. Drawing her finger through the air, she traced out a glowing blue circle. It grew larger and larger, until it formed an oval-shaped portal. She stepped through first, and Wei Huan and Jing Yun followed behind.

As soon as they stepped through, Wei Huan noticed that the surroundings had changed into an impressively luxurious garden, with a marble fountain right in front of them.

“So d*mn rich,” Wei Huan muttered under his breath—only to see Yan Shanyue walk behind him, reach into the portal, and yank out a figure in a black cloak and hood. The hood had already fallen back.

Wasn’t that Yang Ling?

Caught red-handed, Yang Ling looked awkward. “Sister Shanyue…”

Yan Shanyue sighed helplessly. “Why did you follow us?”

“I just wanted to,” Yang Ling pouted, pointing at Jing Yun. “Why is this little weakling allowed to come but I’m not? I can help too!”

Wei Huan quickly tried to smooth things over, pulling Yan Shanyue aside. “She’s already here, let it go.” Then he shot Yang Ling a look. “She’ll definitely behave. And if we do get caught, we just shut the door and unleash Yang Ling. Blow ‘em all to bits.”

Clearing his throat, Wei Huan grabbed Yang Ling’s hand and placed it in Yan Shanyue’s, pressing them together like a father marrying off his daughter. He patted their hands with mock solemnity. “Consider this the first unofficial operation of our Combat Preparedness Team 7. Time to build that team spirit—Team 7, let’s go!”

Jing Yun pointed at their overlapped hands and looked at Wei Huan, puzzled. “Why does this feel… weird?”

Wei Huan poked his forehead. “Because your thoughts are impure. Marked for correction.”

Yan Shanyue let go. “Enough nonsense, let’s go.” Yang Ling, initially a bit disappointed, let her hand drop. But the next moment, Yan Shanyue grabbed her wrist and whispered, “Be careful.”

Yang Ling’s lips curled uncontrollably into a smile.

Inside the garden, Yan Shanyue drew another space circle and used the teleportation technique to bring them into a room. Before stepping through, she briefed them, “You’ll be appearing in Yan Shanmo’s room. I don’t know what he’s doing right now, so act fast. Shut him up as quickly as possible. If his bodyguards or watchers show up, we’re screwed.”

Turns out, it was the worst-case scenario.

When they arrived, Yan Shanmo, dressed in an expensive silk robe, was walking out of the bedroom holding a glass of wine. The group scrambled and hid in different corners of the living room—Wei Huan ducked behind a blackwood cabinet. The rich playboy sauntered forward while opening a holographic screen, flirting with some unknown creature on the other end.

It was a guy, too.

Wei Huan winced at the sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a faint blue foxfire—an expensive liquor bottle floating in midair. Yan Shanyue’s fingers twitched subtly and she signaled Wei Huan across from her. He immediately understood, slowly took off his jacket, and twisted it into a rope-like strip.

Three, two, one—

The bottle smashed into the back of Yan Shanmo’s head. He staggered, disoriented. Wei Huan seized the moment, rushing from behind, and wrapped the twisted jacket around Yan Shanmo’s mouth, yanking it tight. He kicked the guy’s knee from behind, forcing him to kneel.

Yan Shanyue seized the chance to bind his limbs with foxfire, and Jing Yun grabbed a rope to tie him up. With one hand, they hauled him onto the couch.

“Mmph mmph—mmph!!” Yan Shanmo tried to struggle, but with Yan Shanyue’s full-body restraint, he could only sit there stiffly and silently.

Yang Ling blinked at everyone carrying out their roles, then muttered, “Feels like I didn’t do much after all.” But then she remembered her specialty, proudly flicked her twin ponytails, and stepped forward—

WHAM! She stomped down hard between Yan Shanmo’s legs, making him jolt.

She twirled her finger, summoning a small but vibrant purple-red lotus fire that flared to life right between his thighs. Yang Ling grinned adorably. “You better not move. Or make a sound. Or this little lotus fire might lose control.” She leaned in and mimicked an explosion sound near his ear. “It could blow up. Real messy. No fixing it.”

Wei Huan flinched. “I’m out.”

“Get back here,” Yan Shanyue said coldly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Wei Huan took a step forward. “I’m back.” He grabbed Jing Yun’s collar and dragged him over to Yan Shanmo. “Use your eyes!”

“Oh,” Jing Yun replied, stepping in front of the bound man. With slight disgust, he pressed his palm to Yan Shanmo’s eyes. The guy struggled for a second—then froze.

When Jing Yun removed his hand, Yan Shanmo’s eyes had changed—what had been a deep bluish black was now a bright yellow. Jing Yun turned to the group. “Anyone want to take a look?”

All three of them raised their hands at once.

“Alright then…” The pattern on Jing Yun’s wrist began to glow intensely. “We have to move fast. The more people borrowing his vision, the shorter the time window. It could cut off unexpectedly.”

Wei Huan watched as Jing Yun began the eye-sharing technique. Soon, his left eye reflected a different scene, while the right still saw the lavish room. Wei Huan waved a hand in front of Yang Ling’s face—and quickly stepped aside.

No reaction.

“Can you adjust the memory’s time?” Yan Shanyue asked. “Better if you can. Otherwise there’s a lot in that head we probably don’t want to see.”

Jing Yun nodded. “Yes. How far back?”

Wei Huan thought. “Twelve years?”

“Got it.” The moment he finished speaking, the scene began to rewind rapidly, like a video on fast-forward, until it became a flashing white light—and then it stopped.

Now in view: Yan Shanmo, wearing nothing but a towel, dancing bizarrely in front of the bathroom mirror.

The air went dead silent.

“…This doesn’t seem right, but it’s the correct timeframe. I’ll rewind slower. Ah Heng, keep watch.” As Jing Yun adjusted, the scene began slowly progressing frame by frame.

“…Honestly, I feel like lighting my lotus fire right now.”

“Calm down.”

Suddenly, Wei Huan saw a boy completely tied up, blood streaming down his forehead into his phoenix eyes.

“Wait a second.”

The image paused.

Sure enough, it was Qing He.

“Rewind a little.”

The scene slowly rewound. Wei Huan saw Qing He clearly through Yan Shanmo’s eyes—at that time, he looked only eleven or twelve, thin and small, covered in blood and grime with barely an inch of intact skin. The blood-soaked hemp ropes dug into his flesh. He was hung up, whipped, even suspended upside down. But these images weren’t long, and were seen through an iron-barred door.

He heard his own point of view speak: “Stop it! Who told you to beat up my little beauty like that? What if you mess up his face—can you afford to fix it?”

So it was this perverse dandy.

The middle-aged man holding the whip lowered his head. “Young master, this human is too stubborn. He’s attempted suicide several times, and we had to beat him until he couldn’t move to stop him.”

“Who said you could talk?”

That man raised his head and glanced at him, a flicker of complicated emotion in his eyes. He took two steps back and slapped himself across the face.

Wei Huan looked at his leg. “He’s a cripple.”

Yan Shanyue spoke, “Is this the person you’re looking for?”

Her tone was a bit surprised. Wei Huan asked in return, “Not sure yet, why?”

“He’s one of my uncle’s most trusted men.”

The vision kept moving forward; they were getting closer and closer to Qing He. In the field of vision, a clean, pale hand lifted Qing He’s chin, tilting it back and forth for inspection. “Nice features. I’ll take this one.”

The man hesitated, then said, “Yes, young master. I’ll report to the lord first, otherwise we’ll be short one slave…”

Yan Shanmo kicked him to the ground, snarling, “You’ve been a dog too long—you think like one. I said I’m taking him. Out of your hundreds of human slaves, what’s one less?”

“Keeping my little beauty locked in with those filthy low-class humans, stinking of human odor—I feel bad for him.” His hand stroked Qing He’s face. “Be good, come with me. I’ll make sure you live in comfort.”

Qing He weakly opened his eyes and looked straight ahead.

The vision was so vivid that Wei Huan felt as if they were staring directly at each other.

Fingers smeared with sticky blood brushed his lips. Qing He obediently parted them, letting the thumb slide inside.

But suddenly, his empty gaze sharpened—he bit down hard on Yan Shanmo’s finger, his teeth bloodied when he let go.

Yan Shanmo screamed in pain, “You! You!”

Furious but speechless, he turned to the side. “What are you looking at, you dog?!”

The vision shifted to the back, facing two demon servants. “Take this human away! Gag him first!” He turned back and grabbed his injured hand, threatening the other man. “You’d better watch yourself. My father’s empire will be mine someday. Don’t play dumb. One day if I don’t like you, I’ll expose every disgusting thing you’ve done to the mortal world and exile you from the demon realm. I’d like to see if those mortals won’t tear you to pieces for selling your own kind.”

After leaving the dungeon, Yan Shanmo brought Qing He to his private residence and drove away the seven or eight human boys who originally lived there—none of them looked older than children, and they all bore the same branded markings.

Preying on kids…

Wei Huan clenched his molars unconsciously. As the vision got closer to Qing He, and those filthy hands reached out, he couldn’t help but shout:

“Stop. I don’t want to see anymore.”