CRIMSON VEINS (血脉诅咒)

Rain poured over Shanghai like a punishment from the heavens. Thick clouds smothered the city's lights, leaving the Yan family estate cloaked in an eerie twilight.

The ancestral house stood alone at the edge of the Minhang District-where tradition and modernity clashed in silence. Old stone dragons coiled on the rooftops, weather-worn and watchful. Beneath the roots of the courtyard trees, something deeper than age stirred: a curse passed down like blood.

Inside, a shrill alarm broke the silence.

Dr. Yan Xiu's hands were soaked in blood-not from the rain, but from the open chest cavity of the young man on his operating table. In the sterile chaos of Huashan Hospital's trauma wing, life was measured in seconds, and his were slipping away.

"V-fib!" the nurse shouted. "We're losing him!"

Yan Xiu didn't flinch. "Charge to 300. Clear."

The body jerked violently.

Still no pulse.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Silence.

When the flatline came, something cold crawled down his spine. Not guilt. Not defeat. No-premonition.

Because the face of the dead man... was his brother.

Yan Zhihao, age thirty-nine.

The same age their father died. And their grandfather. And his great-grandfather. All mysteriously gone before the age of forty. All hearts stopped without warning. No one survived the curse.

Yan Xiu dropped the defibrillator pads. His fingers trembled, blood drying under his nails.

His brother was gone.

And now... he was next.

Elsewhere, under the neon buzz of a crowded street, a woman leaned against the pillar of a pedestrian bridge, her umbrella casting shadows across her face.

Ling Ruo watched the flashing news report on a shop screen across the road. "Dr. Yan Xiu to inherit family estate after tragic death of brother."

She lit a cigarette with steady fingers, her expression unreadable.

"That's one," she whispered to herself, smoke curling around her lips.

In her purse, an old photograph. Two children laughing in the sunlight. A red string bracelet on one wrist.

Her smile was faint. Almost sad.

"Time to return what your family took from mine."

Her phone buzzed. A message appeared:

"Target eliminated. Proceed with Phase Two."

She slid the phone back in, stepped into the rain, and disappeared into the night.