Chapter 1: Bass

A light autumn drizzle fell, yet the summer heat lingered.

At exactly eleven in the morning, inside a narrow shop bearing signs for both traditional Chinese medicine and fortune-telling, an old gray-and-white television was broadcasting the weather—Tan Zhu City was about to enter flood season.

Heavy rain was imminent, and the sky was dark and overcast. A few dried orange peels smoldered in a glass ashtray on the table, while a pen moved fluidly across a sheet of white paper.

The elderly Chinese doctor adjusted his glasses, set down his pen, and glanced at the person in front of him. “You carry heavy worries, keeping everything bottled up, which has led to emotional stagnation. When expressing your emotions, be careful not to say things you don’t mean—disaster often comes from the mouth. If you don’t change, it will be difficult for your fortune to improve.”

A faint scent of ash curled into her nostrils.

“Achoo—”

Chen Shuyin covered her nose and mouth, a faint crease appearing between her brows.

A small blister had formed on the palm of her right hand, itching inexplicably, like a thorn lodged in her heart for days.

She’d been feeling out of sorts, restless, and at Liu Yiran’s insistence, had come here for a consultation. But rather than finding comfort, she only felt more uneasy. Unable to hold back, she asked, “Can you be a little more subtle?”

The television channel switched to a documentary. The narrator’s monotone voice was enough to lull anyone to sleep. “On the same piece of land, species adhere to the principles of natural selection and survival of the fittest. Fear of the unknown and exclusion of outsiders are among the safest survival strategies…”

She stared at the screen, watching a rhino and a crocodile locked in a vicious struggle.

“So… am I being followed? Or is someone cursing me?”

“If the heavens are against you, misfortune will follow,” the old doctor mused, flipping through divination sticks and drawing a lot for her. “But from what I see, your fate doesn’t seem to include such a person.”

Really?

Chen Shuyin couldn’t help but think of that man. Whenever they were in the same space, they inevitably clashed like tigers and dragons in battle.

Now that they’d gone their separate ways, she no longer had to waste energy on anything related to him. She should have been celebrating with fireworks.

This was her first long vacation since starting work. The wind against her face should have felt like freedom, yet she seriously suspected he was up to something behind her back again.

“But your other half,” the doctor continued, “is bound to have a rough road ahead—”

Chen Shuyin waved her hand. “No, no, no. I’m not particularly interested in marriage. Just tell me, is there a cure for me or not?”

“A fate spanning multiple lifetimes… Are you sure you don’t want to listen? I’ll even prescribe you a free remedy.”

Nothing in this world comes free.

Convinced she’d run into a scammer, Chen Shuyin gave a dry smile and shook her head.

The old doctor, unbothered, shooed her away. “Young people these days, don’t make a fuss over small ailments. Take the medicine I prescribe, stick to the cycle, and you’ll see results.”

The channel switched again, unexpectedly landing on an advertisement. A face she was all too familiar with filled three-quarters of the screen.

Speak of the devil.

She had almost forgotten—this was his moment in the spotlight.

Famous since childhood for playing the younger version of male leads in idol dramas, he had dominated the TV channels watched by middle-aged women. He had stepped away for a few years to focus on his studies, and now, returning to the screen, he had skyrocketed to stardom.

Chen Shuyin had to admit—some people were just born lucky.

Expressionless, she looked away. So what? From now on, he had nothing to do with her.

Then, taking a sterilized needle, she popped the blister on her palm as if excising a lingering disease. As the fluid oozed out, the frustration in her heart eased somewhat.

The phone call came just as she was leaving.

Chen Shuyin took a deep breath, debating whether to answer or ignore it. When she saw the caller ID, she swiped to pick up.

Her voice was listless. “Ranran.”

“How was the fortune-telling? This guy is the most accurate one I’ve found,” Liu Yiran’s hesitant tone carried a trace of excitement. “But never mind that—you’ve got work!”

Fate is a matter of belief. If you believe, it’s real; if you don’t, it’s not.

Chen Shuyin had already developed deep doubts about the fortune teller’s skills. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and enjoy her vacation.

She forced out a weak smile. “Not going.”

“Relax. Overtime comes with double pay.”

“Still not going.”

She had never been one to turn down money, but today was different. No matter what, she wasn’t giving up her hard-earned rest.

Liu Yiran went silent for a few seconds before speaking in a strange, half-laughing tone. “The client specifically asked for you.”

A bad feeling rose in Chen Shuyin’s chest.

“Who?”

She was still new to the industry. Just getting her name recognized by her superiors was an accomplishment—who would go out of their way to request her as an exclusive reporter?

Liu Yiran giggled awkwardly, her voice breaking as if someone were instructing her from behind. “Just come, and you’ll see. He said… No, wait, he’s sure that once you see him, you’ll agree.”

Chen Shuyin pursed her lips, suddenly uneasy.

Liu Yiran hesitated before adding, “Wait by the roadside. He’s sending a car to pick you up.”

Chen Shuyin’s mind raced. “If you’re being held hostage, just say the word. I’ll find a way to scrape up ransom money.”

“Beep, beep—”

“Ranran? Ranran?”

The call was abruptly cut off. When she tried calling back, all she got was a busy signal.

Tying up her hair, Chen Shuyin stood on the sidewalk, unsettled.

She wasn’t worried that Liu Yiran was in danger. But a creeping sense of unease spread through her, as if vines were wrapping tightly around her insides.

A car horn honked.

Golden osmanthus flowers bloomed in full, weighing down the branches.

Startled by the honk, she looked up—only to bump her head against a low-hanging branch.

Stars danced before her eyes as she turned toward the lowered car window.

The man inside clearly recognized her, his voice certain. “Reporter Chen, please get in.”

Chen Shuyin smoothed down her bangs, hiding her embarrassment, and walked to the backseat. She grabbed the car door handle, hesitated, then asked, “Just to confirm—this is the pre-arranged interview car, right?”

“Yes,” the driver replied patiently. “Time is tight. Someone’s waiting for you.”

She relaxed slightly, pulling open the door. But as she sat down and turned, she finally noticed—there was already someone in the backseat.

He wore a black silk shirt, his pale skin accentuated by the deep color. A matching cap shaded part of his face, but it didn’t hide his sharp features.

His collar was open, revealing a silver chain that disappeared into his chest. Arms crossed, he gazed out the window, his jawline crisp and defined.

For the past few months, she had feared this exact moment.

A visible crack appeared in her composed expression. The muscle in her cheek twitched twice.

In a low, restrained voice, she muttered, “Pei Yu.”

Oh, right—she was too furious to finish the rest of his name.

This persistent, flamboyant bastard.