He held me close, pointing to the two bloodied figures on the ground, and asked if I was scared.

In reality, they no longer resembled people. Their limbs were twisted and contorted unnaturally. But, likely drugged, they were still conscious.

Wen Ye sat in a wheelchair, sneering as he jabbed at one of their legs with an iron rod. Wen Yingjue stood not far off, watching coldly.

My heart tightened, my throat dry. I wished I could take down these beasts right then and there.

But I couldn’t.

I could only force myself to act afraid.

Wen Qingshan brushed his fingers along my cheek, leaning close to my ear as he whispered, “You look so much like your mother when you’re scared. Like a little rabbit, so… pitifully endearing.”

He handed me a glass of wine and told me to drink. The dark red liquid in the glass looked just like the blood on the ground.

He wasn’t asking. The glass pressed against my mouth, and the entire cup was poured down my throat at once. I choked, coughing violently, but he just laughed.

He praised me for being an obedient child and said he would show me the world — Wen Qingshan wanted me to witness firsthand how he executed those two.

I was taken to the dog pit. Inside were starving, ferocious dogs.

That was when I realized Wen Yingjue hadn’t been joking. When the people were thrown in, they were torn apart like bread, effortlessly split into pieces.

Wen Qingshan’s men held me up, forcing me to watch the entire thing, while he sat nearby, amused, watching my reaction.

Afterward, they released me. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. The stench of blood overwhelmed me, making me vomit uncontrollably.

The blood pounded in my temples, and through the ringing in my ears, I heard Wen Qingshan speaking. He was smug, saying that this was the fate of anyone who dared to cross him.

It was utterly sickening.

Later, Wen Qingshan left with his men, leaving me kneeling on the ground, too weak to stand. It wasn’t until thunder roared and torrential rain drenched me that my tears finally dared to fall, mixed with the rain.

26

After being soaked in the rain, I developed a high fever.

I lay powerless in bed, drifting in and out of delirium. Every time I fell asleep, I plunged into chaotic dreams.

I dreamt of a day back in high school. My parents had just passed away, and I had been sent to live with my uncle.

Their deaths hit me hard, and I was despondent all the time. I learned to skip classes, get into fights, and smoke… I was the epitome of a troubled kid.

That day, I skipped class again. The reason was a conversation with my homeroom teacher. She meant no harm, but her words triggered me. She asked if I thought my behavior honored my parents.

What did she know?

My parents never cared about me. They always said they were busy, and I knew they were — busy chasing down criminals around the world. And then they died, leaving me behind.

I hid on the school rooftop, smoking a cigarette. The afternoon sun was still harsh, making my eyes tear up.

I squinted down at the empty grounds below. It was so quiet. If I jumped now, it would probably take a while before anyone found me.

I laughed at myself, but when I turned around, I was startled — the class president was standing behind me.

I had no idea how long he had been standing there silently. It scared the hell out of me.

“What are you doing? You scared me,” I asked irritably.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he sat down next to me and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his school pants pocket. It was a brand I had never smoked before.

He lit one skillfully and put it in his mouth. Then, seeing my surprised expression, he handed me the pack and asked if I wanted one.

I didn’t hesitate and took one. His cigarettes were better than mine.

As I smoked, I asked him, “Good students smoke too, huh?”

He smiled and said it was just a way to relax.

We stayed on that rooftop until after school.

As the warm light of the setting sun bathed us, he asked if I wanted to come over to his place for dinner. Before I could answer, he suddenly wrapped his arm around me and said, “Let’s go, come home with me.”

27

And just like that, we began spending more time together.

He was an interesting guy. Even when I skipped class, he didn’t report me. In fact, he would join me. Most of the time, we just sat on the rooftop smoking. We didn’t talk much, just sitting there facing each other.

Sometimes, I would catch him looking at me through the smoke. When I teased him, saying, “Why are you always staring at me? Am I so handsome that you’re falling for me?” he would just smile, neither confirming nor denying it.

To be honest, he was quite good-looking, especially when he smiled. If I were a girl, I would definitely chase after him.

28

At some point, we became even closer. Maybe it was all the cigarettes we shared, or all the sunsets we watched from the rooftop, or perhaps it was how good his mom’s cooking was and how kindly she took care of me.

We became inseparable.

I started listening to him, going back to studying and living a better life.

My uncle thanked him, saying it was a good thing he was there, or else no one would have been able to control me.

But my uncle wasn’t right.

It wasn’t that he controlled me — he saved me.

He saved me twice.

The first time was on the rooftop.

The second time was in an alley.

That night, my fever had climbed past 39 degrees, and I was barely conscious.

My uncle had been away on a mission for half a month, so no one was there to take care of me.

The class president took me to the school clinic to get medicine, and then he took me back home. We both thought I could stay at his place, and his mom would help care for me.

Neither of us expected that later that night, we’d be running for our lives through a dark, narrow alley.

He was pulling me along as I staggered, barely able to stay on my feet, my head spinning.

Ahead of us was a trash can.

In that dream, my mind suddenly snapped awake.

I wanted to pull my hand away, to stop what was about to happen.