Curse of a still heart

Mr Cheng make amends

We are at the end of the second 500-year cycle right now. A new cosmic age is arriving. The machinery's power is fading fast, and the gears are beginning to seize up. Cheng wants your property because it gives him direct access to the edge of the f*******n Jungle. He wants to sabotage the engineer gears completely. He doesn't want to keep Moro locked in—he wants Moro to break free, so that Ba'ir can ambush him, s*******r him, and consume Moro's divine powers to unleash an unstoppable hell on Earth.

Risky looks at his watch, then at the mountain, his pragmatic mind struggling to hold together under the weight of this insane reality.

RISKY

So... let me get this straight. We inherited a giant set of rusty backyard lawnmower parts hidden in a f*******n jungle, a dramatic demon is trying to break out of our mountain ridge, and a corporate cult leader wants to feed him to a bigger monster?

MAY MAY

(Gravely)

Precisely.

RISKY

(Sighs, pulling the sunflower from behind his ear)

I really, really hate the mainland.

RITA

(Looking at her kids, panic setting in)

Risky... what do we do?

Risky looks at May May, a fierce, determined spark returning to his eyes for the first time since his military retirement.

RISKY

First, we go back to the mansion. Second, we find that Caretaker. And third... we figure out how to tune some celestial engineer gears before the world ends. May May, you’re coming with us. You know the lore, and frankly, I’m going to need someone to pay for these ruined peonies.

May May grins, grabbing her bag of lotuses.

MAY MAY

Lock and load, Major Disaster. Let’s go save the world.

NEXT DAY

The morning sun bathes the ancient courtyard in a warm, golden glow. Birds chirp peacefully in the surrounding bamboo forest. The tension of the previous night seems to have completely evaporated.

Risky is sitting on a low wooden bench, his right leg propped up on a plastic crate. He has an open toolbox next to him, a massive wrench in one hand, and a half-eaten pork bun in the other.

May May walks into the courtyard carrying a woven tray loaded with fresh jars of herbal ointments, dried roots, and a sparkling clean glass bottle filled with a bright pink, shimmering liquid. She has swapped her denim overalls for a tight, form-fitting tank top and a patterned sarong, her long hair tied up loosely with a pencil. Curiously, her feet make absolutely no sound against the dry gravel as she crosses the patio.

MAY MAY

Morning, Major Disaster. How’s the collateral damage from the peony incident?

Risky looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in her casual, breezy look. He clears his throat, accidentally coughing on a piece of his pork bun.

RISKY

(Wiping his mouth quickly)

Uh, functional. The knee is standard. I'm just conducting a routine inventory of my tactical repair gear. WD-40, duct tape, and raw determination.

May May sets her tray down right next to his leg, leaning over him. The scent of sweet jasmine and wild mint hits Risky like a flashbang grenade. Her face is just inches from his as she inspects his compression sleeve. Risky notes a strange detail: despite the bright morning heat, she isn't sweating at all, and her shadow on the stone floor appears incredibly faint, almost translucent.

MAY MAY

Duct tape won't fix torn cartilage, soldier. Let me see it.

Before Risky can protest, May May’s smooth hands slide under the edge of his compression sleeve, slathering a cooling, thick green paste onto his skin. Her fingers are strong, digging into his tight muscle knots with practiced precision.

Risky freezes, his entire body going rigid. A deep, highly visible blush creeps up his neck, turning his ears bright red.Voice dropping an octave, completely breathless)

That is... highly effective. And structurally compromising to my military discipline.

MAY MAY

(Smirking, looking up at him through her eyelashes)

Oh, does the big, tough UN peacekeeper have a weak spot for a little local medicine? Relax, Marcus. If you keep tensing up like a brick wall, I’m going to have to sit on your lap just to keep you still.

Risky’s wrench slips out of his hand, clattering loudly against the stone pavers. May May bursts out laughing, her fingers playfully tapping his kneecap.

MAY MAY (CONT'D)

Gotcha. You’re entirely too easy to rattle.

Before Risky can salvage his dignity, a soft, melodic chime echoes from the front gates. The heavy dark wooden doors swing open smoothly, revealing Mr. Cheng.

Gone is the cold, ruthless corporate shark from the marketplace. Today, Cheng is dressed in a breezy, immaculate white linen resort suit. He looks like a handsome, classic movie star. Instead of menacing bodyguards, his assistants follow behind him carrying massive, extravagant gift baskets overflowing with imported gourmet chocolates, fine French pastries, luxury toys for the kids, and a stunning bouquet of freshly cut, pristine pink lotuses.

Cheng walks forward with an effortless, dazzling smile, his eyes locked entirely on Rita, who is stepping out of the main hall wiping her hands on an apron.

MR. CHENG

Good morning, beautiful family! Ms. Rita, please accept my humblest, most sincere apologies for my behavior yesterday. I was completely consumed by corporate stress, and my conduct was utterly ungentlemanly.

Rita stops in her tracks, blinking in absolute confusion at the mountain of luxury goods being laid out on her rustic porch.

RITA

Mr. Cheng? I... I don't understand. Yesterday you were threatening to take my house.

MR. CHENG

(Placing a hand over his heart, looking deeply wounded)

A gross misunderstanding! I am a developer, yes, but I am a human being first. When I slept last night, my conscience tore at me. How could I pressure a resilient, courageous single mother who is simply looking for a fresh start for her beautiful children?

Cheng smoothly steps closer to Rita, taking the bouquet of pink lotuses from his assistant and presenting them to her with a graceful bow. As he does, his eyes track the subtle, glowing warmth of her skin.

What Cheng knows—and what the family completely ignores—is the secret ancient truth: Lian did not just have servants; she shared her very divine blood and cosmic essence with them across generations. Rita, Leo, and Luna literally carry the Flower Deity's genetic soul. Cheng doesn't want to steal the land anymore; he needs them. He needs their willing participation to unlock the spiritual engineer gears in the f*******n Jungle, using their lineage as the biological key to smash Moro's prison.

But right now, his tactic is pure, unadulterated charm.

MR. CHENG (CONT'D)

I do not wish to buy your home, Rita. I wish to help you restore it. I want to be your neighbor, your patron... your friend.

Leo and Luna instantly bolt out from behind Rita, their eyes wide as plates as they spot the luxury toys. Luna grabs a massive, beautifully crafted teddy bear, while Leo eyes a high-tech remote-controlled drone.

LEO

Whoa! Is this for us?! Mom, can we keep it?!

MR. CHENG

(Kneeling down to the kids' eye level, smiling warmly)

Of course, little man! Anything you want. And if the drone crashes, I will bring you ten more.

Rita watches him, her defensive walls melting just a little bit. For years, her toxic ex-husband did nothing but belittle her and ignore the children. To see a powerful, handsome man showing such immediate kindness and generosity to her family is an overwhelming breath of fresh air.

RITA

(Blushing slightly, accepting the flowers)

That is... incredibly kind of you, Mr. Cheng. Thank you. The flowers are gorgeous.

Across the courtyard, Risky stands up, leaning heavily on his walking stick, his eyes narrowing to slits as he glares at Cheng. May May stands directly beside Risky, making a funny face at Cheng. Curiously, when Cheng looks toward Risky's direction, his eyes completely skim over May May, noticing only the protective brother.

RISKY

(Whispering to May May)

Look at this guy. He’s laying it on so thick I’m about to slip on the grease. I don’t trust a man whose teeth are that white.

May May takes a bite out of his leftover pork bun without asking, chewing casually.

MAY MAY

I don’t know, Major Disaster. The linen suit is doing things for him. Maybe you should take notes. A little less camouflage, a little more silk.

Risky looks down at her, crossing his arms.

RISKY

I look great in camouflage. It’s highly practical for jungle reconnaissance.