Deviant: No Longer Human

Night—26th November!

In Jiarong's apartment, Wang Xiao lay sprawled on the couch, his legs boldly resting on Jiarong's soft lap. Her slender fingers twitched, as though itching to snap something—preferably his legs.

"Xiao Wang," she began, her voice sweet as honey laced with poison, "Move your legs. Or shall I remind you what pain feels like?"

Her silk black gown fit tightly to her slender waist, offering teasing glimpses of flawless, smooth skin. Her cascading black hair framed a face so enchanting it could make saints falter. Yet her eyes glimmered with sharpness—a warning not to test her patience.

Wang Xiao, engrossed in his phone, glanced up with a lazy grin. To him, her fiery glare only made her more beautiful. "Calm down, sister. You're ruining your 'goddess-next-door' vibe. Keep this up, and someone might mistake you for an angry bunny."

"Bunny...?" Her smile grew cold, her voice dropping. "Do I look like something you can pet without consequences?"

With an exasperated sigh, she shot back, "Why don't you go help Rui instead of annoying me here?"

But Wang Xiao only leaned further back, smirking as he replied, "Why would I? Ruixin doesn't need my help—she's practically perfect. I'd just ruin the picture."

Jiarong turned to look at him, baffled. Her brother had the emotional intelligence of a brick. Did he not understand anything? This was the perfect opportunity for him to bond with Ruixin! Yet here he was, using this chance to—what? Tease her?

Her irritation was about to erupt when a soft hum floated through the open bedroom door. Wang Xiao's gaze wandered.

There stood Qian Ruixin, adjusting a jade hairpin before the mirror. Her lilac dress hugged her form delicately, the thigh-high slit revealing legs that seemed to stretch endlessly. She moved with effortless grace, her beauty understated yet breathtaking. Even the faint floral fragrance that followed her seemed to whisper promises of spring.

"Look at her," Wang Xiao remarked, his voice unhurried, "practically glowing. Does she look like she needs me? I'm no butler, okay?"

Jiarong scoffed, her annoyance bubbling over. "You're not a butler; you're just lazy. If you put half as much effort into being useful as you do into being arrogant, someone might actually notice you exist."

Wang Xiao chuckled, entirely unfazed. "Why aim for being noticed when I'm already an unforgettable treasure? Timeless. Irreplaceable."

"Right," she muttered, shoving his legs off her lap with a sharp push. "A deadweight treasure."

He yawned exaggeratedly, stretching as though her insults were a lullaby. "Fine, fine, I'll help her… after this video. Besides, this is sibling bonding, just like you said."

Jiarong's lips curved into a dangerously soft smile. "Bonding? You're one sarcastic comment away from bonding with my shoe."

Instead of replying, Wang Xiao simply gazed at her, his eyes lingering on her crimson lips. The silent audacity made her even angrier.

Before she could explode, she snatched his phone. "Busted!" she declared. But when she looked at the screen, she froze.

It was blank.

"???"

Her confusion was evident. "You weren't even watching Douyin?"

Wang Xiao shrugged nonchalantly. "Why would I?"

Jiarong's eyes darted toward Ruixin, then narrowed as she leaned closer to Wang Xiao. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Xiao Wang, tell me the truth. Do you even like Rui? Or are you just in your scumbag phase?" Her tone carried a mix of disbelief and concern.

Wang Xiao chuckled, finding her expression unexpectedly endearing. His elder sister—despite her devilish beauty—was surprisingly innocent. "Sister," he said with mock solemnity, "Loving the ocean doesn't mean you should drown in it."

Her mind blanked for a second at his cryptic reply. "You—"

Before she could unleash a tirade, chaos erupted.

From her room, Ruixin hesitated, debating whether to add a coat to her outfit. But the rising volume of Jiarong's voice pulled her attention to the living room, where the siblings appeared locked in a heated squabble.

"What's going on?" she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

Watching Wang Xiao now—bickering like a child—felt surreal. Was this really the same Eight Prince whose image on the internet was so fearsome? Ruthless, commanding, untouchable?

Yet here he was, teasing his sister and avoiding responsibility, like he had all the time in the world.

Ruixin sighed. Maybe legends were just that—stories polished by distance. Reality, it seemed, had a sense of humor.

The combined decision to hit the nightclub today was more of an escape plan orchestrated by Wang Jiarong than a genuine outing. Living with Wang Xiao and Qian Ruixin under the same roof was proving to be a test of her sanity, and she desperately needed some time off.

Ruixin, however, had called home before agreeing to the plan. Her mother-in-law, Li Xiaoqing, had sounded unusually shaky during their conversation. Ever since the tense morning incident, something had shifted in her tone. But what puzzled Ruixin even more was her mother-in-law's peculiar words:

[Stay out as long as you like, especially if you're with Xiao Wang.]

Ruixin couldn't suppress her suspicion, glancing at Wang Xiao as though he'd bullied Li Xiaoqing into submission. Yet, nothing in his calm, indifferent demeanor hinted at wrongdoing.

She was wrong.

Wang Xiao hadn't lifted a finger, and neither had anyone else. Li Xiaoqing had merely been reminded of the cruel divide between heaven and earth. Ministers, rulers, nobles—these titles held weight in mortal realms, but before the Eight Prince, they were meaningless. Mortals before gods.

Even in her privileged position, Li Xiaoqing understood one unshakable truth: if she dared report anything, dared accuse the Eight Prince of something as grievous as barging into her room and violating her, she wouldn't just be ignored—she'd be discarded. A liability. Her husband might replace her without a second thought, the incident swept under the rug.

The logical decision for someone already weathered by society was to bury it. To forget. To pretend nothing had happened.

Wang Xiao, of course, didn't care. He understood this world too well. Society had a way of transforming even the purest souls into ruthless, opportunistic creatures. The innocent were rare gems. And Qian Ruixin? She was one of them.

She hadn't been molded by the same cruel realities. She still lived in a world of naive ideals, untouched by the filth and shadows lurking beneath the surface. Wang Xiao had no intention of mocking her naivety or dismantling her illusions. Let her dream, let her remain unsullied. Men were drawn to innocence—and he was no exception.

He wasn't searching for more cold, calculating monsters to clash swords with. Instead, Wang Xiao was building a garden—a sanctuary of delicate flowers untouched by the world's filth. Under his protection, they thrived, shielded by walls long and tall, crafted from his indomitable presence.

He didn't need them to become like him—jaded, ruthless, and sharp-edged. No, he cultivated their innocence, cherishing their unblemished souls as treasures beyond measure.

Was it the best thing for them? Certainly not. Such sheltered blossoms were ill-suited for survival in a cruel, unforgiving world. But would that deter Wang Xiao? Not in the slightest.

For Wang Xiao believed selfish desires were not a sin. The only true sin was incompetence—the inability to bring those desires to fruition. And if his selfishness built a fortress of beauty, purity, and life in a world that devoured such things, then so be it.

After all, every king deserved a garden of his own, even if its existence defied reason.

Ruixin emerged from her room, fully dressed for the outing. Her lilac gown shimmered under the light, hugging her figure with elegance and modesty. Her makeup was understated, emphasizing her natural beauty rather than masking it. Yet, there was a self-consciousness to her demeanor as she bit her lip, hesitating before addressing him.

"How is it?" she asked softly, glancing between Wang Xiao and Jiarong.

Jiarong raised an eyebrow, but Wang Xiao's sharp gaze lingered on Ruixin a moment longer than necessary. Her nervous energy, the way she sought his approval despite Jiarong being present—it was almost laughably foolish.

Her delicate features were tinged with uncertainty as she unconsciously bit her lower lip, a small gesture that spoke everything.

It felt almost shameful to ask for his opinion—especially with Jiarong present. Yet, like many women blinded by affection, Ruixin placed her man's validation above all else.

Wang Xiao, however, approved of her attitude. He waved her closer, the corner of his mouth curling, "Come here."