LO Chapter 1 

Neon lights had flickered in the night, proclaiming the city’s opulence and decay. The blaring horns of cars had been jarring, crushing over the asphalt, with water splashing everywhere from the wheels. Under the streetlight, a man and a woman had been passionately kissing, their breath creating a smoldering haze in the air, and a decadent atmosphere had spread unchecked through the neighborhood.

The woman had had a beautiful head of golden curls, with multicolored nails slowly tapping on the man’s broad back, while his large hand had caressed her arm. Red light from a billboard had cast its glow, and the woman’s seductive eyes had sparkled, her curls creating an enchanting arc in the air.

Suddenly, the blonde Portuguese woman had sensed something. Peering over the man’s broad shoulder, she had spotted a woman standing in the shadow at the street corner. More precisely, a petite Asian girl.

At the same time, the Asian girl had been looking at her with a gaze of surprise bordering on terror.

The woman had sneered and looked scornfully at the Asian girl. Her shirt had been torn in several places, and her legs had been bruised under her skirt. The woman had judged her to be a newcomer in the trade, perhaps having just had an unpleasant deal and suffering as a result.

Damn it, another rival for business.

The man with her seemed dissatisfied, tightening his grip around her slim waist. The woman had winced in pain, muttering a curse, and had whispered into the man’s ear in somewhat broken English, “Darling, don’t be so rough, or I’ll charge you double.”

Tian An’an had swallowed hard, hurriedly pulling up her collar and quickly moving forward. 

Such things could be done on the streets, and indeed, the boldness of foreigners made socialist people like her feel intimidated.

Las Vegas, the world’s most famous gambling city, the never-sleeping star in the desolate desert. Located in Nevada, USA, this city had been a nightly carnival, attracting countless wealthy individuals from around the globe to spend lavishly with its superstar shows, thrilling boxing championships, dazzling casinos, and various trades.

The streets had been filled with the noisy voices of people, with a mix of languages and curses. This was the black district of Las Vegas, a hell for the poor and a paradise for the rich.

An’an had kept her head down, almost curling her already petite body into a ball, trying to minimize her presence. Even without raising her head, she had known that the streets were full of gamblers, different in race and skin color, but with two common traits: they were men, and they were vicious.

Her nose had felt sore, and she had wanted to cry, but she had held back the tears, gripping her collar tightly and making her way with all her strength towards the street’s exit. She could not stop or afford to stop; if she attracted the attention of those men, her situation would be dire. What she needed to do now was to get to the police station or find a phone booth to call for help, and quickly rescue Sister Jiang Wei.

Facing the wind, she had walked forward, cursing her misfortune and biting her lower lip tightly.

The recent events had felt like a nightmare. Three days ago, she had come to Las Vegas with Jiang Wei for an event. On their way back to the hotel, they had been kidnapped by a group of unknown people and taken to an abandoned factory. Later, she had learned that the kidnappers were big shots in the local area.

In fact, it had been obvious even to a fool that the real target was Jiang Wei, the diva, and that she, as the little assistant, had merely been an incidental capture. Tian An’an had felt like crying but couldn’t. She didn’t know when Jiang Wei had attracted such people, and she felt incredibly unlucky, deeply regretting not burning high incense at the temple during the New Year…

However, there had been some luck. She and Jiang Wei had been kept in separate rooms, and the group’s attention had been focused on Jiang Wei, which had given her the chance to escape.

An’an had unconsciously rubbed her arms and touched her cracked lips. Even without a mirror, she had known how disheveled she looked. Her shirt had been torn, and if it hadn’t been for someone bursting in suddenly, she couldn’t imagine what she would have gone through in that dark, filthy room…

She had wiped her face with the back of her hand, sniffed, and her small nose had turned red from the night wind. Damn it, whether it was her lack of experience or her long hair, the darkness and danger of this place had far exceeded anything she had imagined in her twenty-one years.

She had been really scared. She wanted to go home, and she had even decided to quit after rescuing Jiang Wei. Although this job had been hard-earned, she didn’t think she was heroic enough to risk her life for the diva.

As she had been thinking this, a cacophony of footsteps had gradually approached from behind. Tian An’an had felt her breath catch, her heartbeat nearly stopping. She had heard several American-accented voices, with a tone of excitement and aggression, “There! I see her!”

Panic had swept over her in that moment, and the next instant, Tian An’an had bolted, running with all her might.

She had run frantically, exerting every ounce of energy, the cold wind rushing into her open mouth, her throat quickly tasting a hint of metallic sweetness. Her slender calves had turned blue from the cold, and her injuries had throbbed with sharp pain. But she hadn’t cared; she had run, run, run! She couldn’t be caught, or her fate wouldn’t just be grim—it could be gruesome!

The people behind her were no small fry; daring to act so recklessly against Jiang Wei, it was obvious they were not ordinary figures. She had given up on hoping for rescue, knowing there weren’t many good people on this street and not wanting to attract more predators.

At that moment, Tian An’an had felt utterly helpless. For her, Las Vegas had been nothing more than images and news online, and fleeing through the streets had seemed like scenes from Hong Kong and Hollywood movies. She had felt like a headless fly, both angry and terrified, quickly realizing she had run into a dead-end alley with gray walls.

The footsteps had closed in, and the men had been panting, exhausted. One of them, with a beard, had spat on the ground and cursed, “Looks so small, but runs pretty fast!” Looking at her with a gaze full of lust, he had added, “Made my buddies run around for so long, I guess you owe us a proper compensation.”

An’an had twitched her mouth and retreated, her back pressed against the wall. The cold sensation had seeped through her thin shirt, making her legs weak and her shoulders shiver. But losing face was not an option for Tian An’an, so she had tried to appear calm and said, “Big brother, let’s talk this through. We’re all adults here, let’s not do anything rash…”

“What’s there to talk about?” A man with red hair had reached out and touched her face, pulling out a Swiss army knife to play with. “What’s ‘rash’?” he had said, flicking the knife’s tip across the white fabric of her shirt, making a cut. “Is this ‘rash’?”

Tian An’an had nowhere to retreat, raising her hand to cover her chest, and she had already vaguely understood what these men intended to do.

At that moment, her inner turmoil had been nearly overwhelming. An unprecedented panic had engulfed her, flooding her senses and almost suffocating her.

Would she die? It seemed quite likely.

How tragic was this? Here she was, a young person who had just graduated and hadn’t yet had the chance to contribute to the great cause of building the nation… and now she was about to meet her end?

Meanwhile, the men’s predatory instincts had surfaced, their eyes roving lecherously over the young woman.

She was a typical Asian woman—petite with fair skin, delicate features, and large, captivating eyes—which only fueled their desire to violate her. Their eyes had moved down to her knee-length skirt and the pale, impossibly slender legs beneath, seemingly fragile enough to break with a single forceful move.

“Look, our assistant is also a beautiful woman,” the men had leered, one of them lifting her skirt, provoking her frantic attempts to evade him. His eyes had lit up with a sickly gleam, “The assistant is so scared; she must be a virgin!”

“Fantastic! I like virgins!” The others had immediately agreed, their wolfish eyes fixed intently on the Asian girl before them.

An’an had realized that her calm facade was rapidly deteriorating. These men were something else entirely. Not only did they look scruffy, but their mental depravity had shattered her perception of Americans.

She had felt like she was on the brink of a breakdown, frowning tightly, and said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ve already called the police! Don’t do anything rash; the police will be here soon!”

The men had burst into laughter. One of them had suddenly pushed her to the ground, pressing down on her and panting heavily as he mocked, “Police? Little sister, you can’t even lie properly. You might need to double-check. This is the black district of Las Vegas, OK?” As he spoke, he had reached out to touch her calf, exclaiming, “So smooth!”

An’an had felt nauseated, almost on the verge of vomiting. Seizing the moment, she had used all her strength to kick at the man’s eyes. The curly-haired man had yelped in pain and fallen to the ground. A glimmer of hope had flashed in her eyes as she scrambled to her feet, ready to run, but her slender arm had been grabbed by someone.

The grip had been strong. She had sucked in a breath of cold air, the pain making her eyebrows knit together, suspecting her arm might be broken.

“Damn it!” The man who had been attacked had exploded in rage, standing up and delivering a harsh slap to her face. With a tearing sound, her shirt had been ripped open, exposing large areas of her white skin, glowing under the night.

Caught off guard, An’an had screamed in fear and, in a moment of desperation, had bitten down hard on the hand that was gripping her. The man had groaned in pain, loosening his grip. Desperation seemed to have unlocked her potential as she had forcefully pushed away a few of the white men and had charged out of the dark alley with a surge of adrenaline.

The street was bustling with people, the sounds of men and women mingling incessantly. Everyone had witnessed the scene that had just unfolded, but no one had stepped forward to uphold justice. In this place, everyone knew that money and power equated to justice. A helpless Asian girl could only be the prey of the ruthless.

Tian An’an’s eyes had reddened. Exhausted from the effort, she had stumbled and fallen to the ground. As the footsteps had approached, she had struggled to lift her gaze, and her eyes had fallen upon a pair of shiny black dress shoes.

The man had been tall and imposing, with a handsome yet cold face. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes had been deep and serene, exuding an intimidating aura that had made one want to avert their gaze. Clean and elegant, he had seemed like a noble gentleman from the Middle Ages, completely out of place amidst the surrounding filth and darkness.

His jet-black suit had been impeccably tailored, almost blending into the thick night behind him. From her vantage point, she had seen the proud curve of his jawline as he had looked down at her, his gaze coldly scanning her disheveled, pale body.

“Sir, there are still two hours until the plane departs,” an Asian man in a suit had said respectfully by his side.

Chinese! It was Chinese!

At that moment, Tian An’an had been so moved she had felt like singing the national anthem. A flame of hope had sparked in her eyes as she had opened her pale lips and uttered two Chinese syllables, “Sir…”

However, before she could finish, the man had already turned away with an expression of cold indifference, stepping forward and placing his left leg over her arm.

The hope that An’an had just felt had been crushed in an instant. In a panic, she had grabbed the man’s pant leg as if clutching at the last straw, pleading, “Help me, please save me… We’re all Chinese! Long live our compatriots…” She had babbled, suddenly blurting out, “If you save me just this once, I will be eternally grateful, repay you for eight lifetimes, and serve you like a beast!”

The man’s movements had paused slightly as he had leaned down, his long, gloved right hand lifting her chin.

Forced to look up, her eyes had met his icy ones. He had assessed her from above, quickly evaluating the exchange value of her face and body, and finally, his lips had curved into a slight smile. “Take her to the car.”

——