Chapter 54: You Can't Escape.

Chapter 53

Toulouse.

In the twilight, this city in southwestern France gradually stretched its body, revealing its unique and graceful silhouette. It was dusk when the plane landed; outside the porthole, the sky was dyed gold and red by the setting sun, clouds hanging low like oil paints casually smeared by an artist. The fuselage gave a slight jolt as the wheels touched the ground, taxiing along the runway, followed by a dull roar. Twenty minutes later, a slender figure appeared at the exit of the arrivals hall. It was a young Eastern girl, with a figure that was neither too thin nor too full, wearing a long beige trench coat that swayed gently with her steps. Large sunglasses almost covered half her face, and a matching mask concealed the other half, leaving only a pale, slender neck exposed. She dragged a suitcase with one hand and held her phone with the other, her pace unhurried, yet her whole demeanor carried an indescribable tension. The woman stopped in the center of the hall, turning her head as if searching for something. People came and went around her—French, English, Spanish, and occasionally Chinese—all kinds of languages interweaving into a noisy background. Above, flight information scrolled on the display screens; the windows of duty-free shops displayed perfumes and Red Wine; the air carried a faint scent of coffee. Soon, a figure stood out from the crowd and caught the Eastern girl's eye. The other party was about twenty-six or twenty-seven, with chestnut wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, deep and three-dimensional features, and a bright, flamboyant smile. A sharply tailored black suit wrapped her graceful figure, paired with a wine-red blouse, and she wore stiletto heels, exuding a uniquely French blend of laziness and refinement. With a turn of the eyes, their gazes met in the air. "Wen!" the French girl called out softly, her tone unable to hide her joy. At the same time, the Eastern girl curved her lips and quickened her pace. "Sophie!" Wen Yicong casually took off her sunglasses and mask, revealing a plain yet still strikingly beautiful face. She smiled warmly, "It's been so many years, you've become even more beautiful!" The French girl's name was Sophie, a former exchange student classmate of Wen Yicong's from university. Years ago, Sophie came from France to study in Jinghai City and happened to be an exchange student in Wen Yicong's class. The two girls met through a group project and became close friends who talked about everything. Sophie's French name was Sophie, and her Chinese name was Su Fei; Wen Yicong liked to call her "Sophie." In Wen Yicong's words, the name "Sophie" sounded pleasant, like the rustle of wind through a wheat field. After graduation, Sophie returned to her hometown in France to develop her career. Distance gradually reduced their contact, but the deep friendship remained in each other's hearts. This time, when Wen Yicong decided to go far away to take a break, the first person she thought of was Sophie. Now, the warm and beautiful French girl laughed softly at the sincere compliment. Then she opened her arms and hugged her long-lost Chinese friend tightly. "You haven't changed at all," Sophie said, patting Wen Yicong on the back, then stepping back half a step to look her up and down. "Still as beautiful as a fairy from mythology, and still so gentle." "Not at all," Wen Yicong said with a playful scold. "Stop putting me on a pedestal." The two girls walked together toward the parking lot. Outside the airport, the sky had not yet fully darkened; a line of orange-red remained on the distant horizon. The parking lot was filled with all kinds of vehicles—French license plates, German license plates, and occasionally small cars with Italian plates. The wind blew, carrying the damp cold unique to late autumn in Europe. Soon, Sophie led Wen Yicong to a gray sedan. The paint was shiny, the body clean. A blond, blue-eyed European driver in a crisp black uniform got out of the driver's seat, nodded slightly to the two, then took Wen Yicong's suitcase and placed it in the trunk. Sophie, playing the host, opened the car door for Wen Yicong. "Please, my Eastern princess." Wen Yicong didn't stand on ceremony with her old friend and got into the car with a smile. The car started and drove toward the airport exit. Once on the highway leading to the city, the scenery outside the window opened up: fields, farmhouses, and the faint outlines of mountains in the distance. Sophie took out a compact powder from her makeup bag, touched up her makeup in front of a small mirror, and casually asked, "By the way, Wen, you told me in your email that you'd be staying in Toulouse for several months?" Wen Yicong nodded. "Yes." Sophie suddenly understood: "No wonder you asked me to help you contact a special education school here." "I was very tired from work before, and I wanted to change my environment to adjust my state," Wen Yicong said, trying to sound relaxed and natural. "Then I thought, since I'd be idle here, I might as well find a part-time job. As long as the work isn't too heavy." Hearing this, Sophie's eyes lit up. "That's perfect. The special education school near my home is hiring a rehabilitation assistant—light work, easy, but the pay is a bit low. I was worried you might look down on it." Wen Yicong was pleasantly surprised, her eyes bright. "Rehabilitation assistant? I can do that." "Great," Sophie said with a smile. "Today, go back to my place and rest well. Tomorrow, I'll take you to see the school." Having solved her work problem on her first day in Toulouse, Wen Yicong was delighted and grateful. She reached out and hugged Sophie's arm, leaning her head on her shoulder. "Thank you! Sophie, it's so good to have you." Sophie chuckled and rubbed her hair. "What's there to thank? We're good friends. Back then, when I was alone in a foreign land studying in Jinghai City, weren't you always helping and taking care of me? Remember that time I had a high fever, and you accompanied me to the Hospital Complex in the middle of the night and even made me porridge..." "That was so many years ago," Wen Yicong interrupted with a smile. "But I've always remembered it, in my heart," Sophie said, her gaze softening. "So, Wen, I'm really happy you came to see me this time." The two girls exchanged smiles. The car continued forward, and outside the window was Toulouse's deepening night. Wen Yicong and Sophie chatted about work, university anecdotes, and mutual friends, asking about each other's families and catching up on each other's recent lives, as if they had endless things to say. As they talked, Wen Yicong suddenly remembered something and took out her phone from her bag. She glanced at the screen. No missed calls, no new messages. Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, a phone ringtone abruptly sounded. The moment she heard the ringtone, Wen Yicong's heart sank, and she almost instinctively felt a sense of fear. But then she thought it over and realized: before boarding, she had already changed her SIM card; that man didn't know her new number... Wen Yicong looked down at the caller ID on the screen: Pei Xizhou. Her eyes flickered, and she answered the call. "Hello, Doctor Pei?" A magnetic, warm voice came through the receiver: "Teacher Wen, have you landed safely?" "Yes, I just arrived and have already met my friend," Wen Yicong said. "Thank you for your concern, Doctor Pei." "Good, everything went smoothly," Pei Xizhou said. "Yes, fortunately nothing unexpected happened," Wen Yicong replied, then paused briefly, a hint of hesitation in her tone. "Do you have anything else?" "No, I just wanted to make sure you arrived safely at your destination," Pei Xizhou said with a smile. "Enjoy catching up with your friend. Goodbye." With that, he was about to hang up. But Wen Yicong raised her voice slightly: "By the way, Doctor Pei." The person on the line paused, still with that gentle, steady tone: "What is it?" Wen Yicong bit her lip lightly, glanced tentatively at Sophie beside her. Sophie was busy reapplying lipstick in front of the mirror, her attention entirely on her delicate makeup, not paying attention to her. Seeing this, Wen Yicong steadied herself, turned her body slightly away from Sophie, and asked in a low, probing voice: "Doctor Pei, about my parents..." Pei Xizhou guessed what she wanted to ask and said, "Don't worry. I've arranged for people to protect them secretly. If anything happens, I'll call the police immediately." Hearing this, the heavy stone in Wen Yicong's heart finally lifted a little. She lowered her eyes, a trace of lingering fear in them, and said thoughtfully, "Although before I resigned this time, I had already arranged a new rehabilitation teacher for Airi in advance and submitted a formal sick leave application to Star Bridge... but after all, these things were done without Mr. Mo's knowledge. I'm afraid that if he finds out I left without saying goodbye, he'll take it out on my parents, on Principal Zhang Yao, or even on the whole Star Bridge." On the other end, Pei Xizhou chuckled, his tone calm: "Teacher Wen, you worry too much. There are indeed many countries and regions in the world where the powerful can flout the law, but China is not one of them. After all, domestically, we have a society governed by law. Mo Shaoshang won't go too far." Wen Yicong was still uneasy, staring blankly. "I hope so." Pei Xizhou: "If you have any difficulties in France, tell me, and I'll do my best to help." "...Thank you," Wen Yicong said sincerely. After a moment, she spoke again, with some hesitation: "Doctor Pei, actually, there's one thing I've been wondering about." Pei Xizhou: "Go ahead." Wen Yicong: "Why are you helping me so wholeheartedly?" Pei Xizhou was silent for a moment, then said, "I've said it before: you are a very simple and kind person. I just can't bear to watch you be kept in the dark and deceived. You have the right to know the truth." Hearing this reason, Wen Yicong frowned slightly, feeling that something was off, but she couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong. Soon, the call ended. Sophie had finished touching up her makeup and was now on the phone with her boyfriend, chattering away in French, passionate and affectionate. Wen Yicong listened to her friend's occasional laughter and watched the happiness in her eyes, curving her lips. Then she turned her gaze to the car window. Outside the glass, the city's streetscape sped backward. Ancient buildings and modern glass facades complemented each other; rows of plane trees lined the streets. Occasionally, she saw people cycling leisurely by, with freshly bought bread in their baskets. In the distance, at a café, a few customers sat at outdoor tables, coffee in hand, chatting and laughing. The bell tower of St. Serin Cathedral loomed faintly in the twilight. A foreign country, a foreign city, a foreign crowd. Wen Yicong looked at all this, feeling a strong sense of unreality. Two days ago, she was still in Jinghai City, China. Still a private rehabilitation therapist at Mo Manor. Still in that man's arms, skin to skin, intimately entwined, enduring his stormy demands. Only thirty hours had passed, and she was already standing on this land in western Europe. If she remembered correctly, Mo Shaoshang said he would be in Tokyo for half a month. And today marked exactly half a month since he left for Tokyo. He should have returned to China by now. Back in Jinghai City, he would have seen her letter, discovered her abrupt departure... What would he do? A man so skilled at disguise, so deep and calculating, a man with a noble and gentlemanly exterior but a pathological and extreme interior—what would he do after finding out she had fled? Wen Yicong's heart sank, and she dared not think further. Just then, a voice came from beside her. It was Sophie. Her friend had hung up the phone at some point and said half-jokingly, "Sorry, Wen, my boyfriend is a bit clingy. Don't laugh at me." Wen Yicong snapped back to reality, turned her head, and had already put on a natural, light smile. "Being clingy is good; it means he likes you and cares about you." Sophie shrugged noncommittally. "How long have you been together?" Wen Yicong asked again. "Almost half a year," Sophie said, her expression suddenly turning mysterious. She raised her phone and flipped through the photo album, then held it up to Wen Yicong. "Here, this is him. This is my boyfriend." Wen Yicong looked at the phone screen. The photo showed a tall, handsome young man, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, wearing a loose sports jacket, holding a rugby ball, with light brown pupils and golden-brown short hair, a bright smile, his whole demeanor as radiant as the sun in southern France. The background was a green field, and in the distance, stands filled with spectators were faintly visible. "Wow, very handsome!" Wen Yicong praised sincerely. "He smiles so brightly and seems good-natured. You have great taste." Hearing this, Sophie covered her mouth and laughed heartily, then turned off the phone screen and put it back in her bag. Suddenly, the French girl seemed to remember something and turned to Wen Yicong, casually asking, "What about your boyfriend? You're staying in Toulouse for so long—is your boyfriend willing to let you go?" The moment the words landed, the light in Wen Yicong's eyes dimmed instantly. But only for a second; her expression quickly returned to normal, and she smiled. "I don't have a boyfriend." "Ah?" Sophie was stunned. "My God, a beautiful woman like you, with such a figure, and you're still single? I can't believe it!" A strange sense of guilt washed over Wen Yicong. She coughed dryly, unscrewed the cap of her water bottle, and took a sip to cover her unease, remaining silent. "Oh... I get it. You must not like Chinese men. That's okay," Sophie said, not noticing Wen Yicong's discomfort. She hooked her arm around Wen Yicong's shoulder. "During this time, get to know some French men. Maybe you'll find one you like? I'll introduce you to a few athletes from the rugby team later. I guarantee they'll be tall and handsome, and good in bed too!" Wen Yicong choked. At the words "good in bed," some hot and steamy images rushed into her mind. The man's burning palm pressed against her waist, his thin lips lingering on her neck, those blue-black eyes blazing with fire, staring at her wantonly, as if he wanted to burn her to ashes... Those images were too clear. So clear that she could almost feel that overwhelming thrill and pleasure again. She coughed, her face slightly flushed, and waved her hand. "No, no." Sophie saw her friend blushing and was amused. She couldn't help but reach out and gently pinch Wen Yicong's soft cheek, exclaiming, "Wen, you're so cute." A Eastern beauty who combined charm, gentleness, purity, and allure—a true enchantress. Any man who had tasted her would never be able to forget her, Sophie thought sincerely. The car continued forward, driving into Toulouse's gentle night.

*

Meanwhile, in Jinghai City, China.

Mo Manor.

This silent and vast Manor House was now shrouded in a deathly stillness, as if enveloped by an invisible gloom, with a storm brewing. In the third-floor bedroom, the lights were off, and the faint light from outside outlined a cold, solitary silhouette. Mo Shaoshang stood by the window, gazing at the heavy night outside, his thin lips tightly pressed, expressionless. His blue-black eyes were calm and hollow, like a wasteland drained of all life. Soon, footsteps sounded. Heng Shu walked in, stopped by the door, and bowed his head slightly. "Sir," he called respectfully. Without turning around, Mo Shaoshang asked indifferently, "Is Airi adapting to the new teacher?" Hearing this, Heng Shu bowed his head even lower and said, "Before Teacher Wen left... she made proper arrangements. Teacher Jiang Rong is patient, responsible, and very professional. For now, temporarily filling Teacher Wen's position should not be a major problem." Heng Shu paused for a second, then tentatively asked, "However, you secretly found a backup rehabilitation therapist a few days ago. Should we continue with Teacher Jiang, or...?" "The person she recommended won't be bad. Let it be for now." "Yes." After a moment, Mo Shaoshang closed his eyes slightly and waved his hand. Heng Shu immediately retreated silently. The door closed, leaving only Mo Shaoshang alone in the room. He stood by the window for a long time, then turned and scanned the entire room. He saw the bed in the middle of the bedroom, remembering how his girl had once lain on it, curled up in his arms with tears streaming down her face, like a bullied little animal. Then he saw the pillow on the bed, remembering how her head had rested on it countless nights, her hair spread out, her breathing long and steady. On the floor were the slippers she had left behind, made of pure cotton, small and soft, printed with fresh floral patterns. In the wardrobe were a few pieces of clothing she hadn't taken—light-colored, like clean clouds and snow. Mo Shaoshang walked to the desk and gently ran his slender fingertips over the surface. This was where Wen Yicong prepared her lessons. Mo Shaoshang closed his eyes slightly, imagining Wen Yicong working here seriously: first, she would neatly arrange her teaching materials and notebook on the desk, then sit down, pick up a pen, open the record book, and write and draw, a strand of hair falling by her soft pink cheek, swaying slightly with her writing movements... After a while, Mo Shaoshang stood up again and walked to the dressing room. He pushed open the door. Most of the girl's clothes had been taken away, leaving only two or three soft knitwear pieces. He reached out, his fingertips gently brushing over the fabric, imagining he was caressing her bare, smooth skin. Finally, he walked back to the bed and sat down. His palm pressed on the bed, gently stroking the wrinkles. This was where she slept. Just a few days ago, he had been here, entangled with her, intimately united as one. He took a deep breath. The air seemed to still carry her scent, a fragrance like summer fruit, light and sweet. The next second, Mo Shaoshang's eyes snapped open. Opposite him was the mirror on the girl's dressing table. It caught the man sitting on the edge of the bed, perfectly. That man had no expression on his face, his demeanor calm, but something in his blue-black eyes seemed to be cracking, bit by bit, shattering. Anger, sorrow, or resentment? None of them seemed to fit. It was something deeper, more dangerous, something that threatened to tear him apart. Why? Everything had been within his expectations; the course of events had unfolded step by step according to his plan. When faced with absolute, unknown, and completely uncontrollable danger, any creature's instinct is to flee. But why, when he saw her truly suspecting him, fearing him, and fleeing from him, did his heart still ache so much, as if it were being torn apart? In the darkness, Mo Shaoshang looked at himself in the mirror, his knuckles tightening, gripping the bedsheet beneath him. She had left just like that. No farewell words, only a letter and a damn reason, a few cold words, even less than what one would say to a stranger. She didn't dare to question, didn't dare to confront. She abandoned everything and ran away like a fugitive. "..." Mo Shaoshang's knuckles tightened, his eyes lowered, his brows furrowed in near pain. Wen Yicong, Wen Yicong. During this time, he had held her in the palm of his hand, offered her all his tenderness and patience, carefully cherished her, and given her all his love. He had told her about his childhood, taken her into his private collection, let her into his most secret world, almost baring his heart to her. But what about her? A heartless little liar, a bad little treasure full of lies, who turned and fled while he was in Tokyo... How could she be so cruel? How could she be so resolute? They were clearly meant to belong to each other forever. She had clearly promised him that they would belong to each other forever. Thinking of this, Mo Shaoshang's blue-black eyes surged with a dark tide capable of swallowing everything, and a slow arc curled at the corner of his mouth. The cold moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the shallow curve on his lips, spreading a bone-chilling coldness. He buried his face in the pillow she had slept on, letting himself drown in her scent. He took a deep breath. Then he spoke softly, as if to himself, almost like a murmur: "Tesoro, tornerai da me... (Darling, you will come back to me)" "Non scapperai. Sei mia... (You can't escape. You are mine)" "Per sempre. (Forever)" Just then, "Knock, knock." A knock on the door broke the deathly silence of the space. Mo Shaoshang didn't react. The knock came twice more. After a few seconds of silence, he straightened up, walked back to the desk, and said indifferently, "Come in." The door opened. It was Lin Ke. Lin Ke's expression was clearly hesitant. He walked up to Mo Shaoshang, stopped, and didn't speak for a long time. Mo Shaoshang lost patience. "Speak." Lin Ke cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "Sir, you have an important meeting today." Mo Shaoshang: "Cancel it." "..." Assistant Lin was extremely troubled but had to steel himself and continue, "It's the Investment Decision Committee meeting. Whether to continue the COLRA Project's progress needs your final decision." Hearing this, Mo Shaoshang was silent for a few seconds. He turned his head and looked at Lin Ke without saying a word. There was no emotion in those blue-black eyes, but Lin Ke felt a chill down his back. After a moment, Mo Shaoshang withdrew his gaze and left the room directly. Lin Ke breathed a sigh of relief and quickly followed.

*

Mo Group Headquarters, top-floor meeting room. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was the skyline of Jinghai City, with low clouds and a gloomy sky. The meeting room was brightly lit; around the oval long table sat more than a dozen people, including executives from the Investment Department, the head of the Risk Control Compliance Department, and several independent directors. A PPT of the COLRA Project was playing on the projection screen. Exquisite charts, enticing data—page after page flipped by. Sun Dafu sat on one side of the conference table, his face beaming with a bright smile, occasionally interjecting to answer questions from the directors. Han Minshan sat opposite him, his expression serious, rarely speaking throughout. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the edge of the meeting notebook, seeming somewhat distracted. The meeting lasted a full two hours. Various questions were raised and answered. Various doubts were thrown out and dispelled. Various data were verified and checked one by one. Finally, everyone's eyes fell on the man in the main seat. Mo Shaoshang leaned back in his chair, his long legs elegantly crossed, his eyelids slightly lowered, his expression indifferent, casually flipping through the documents in front of him, as if he were just reading an unimportant street tabloid. The meeting room was extremely quiet, with only the deliberately suppressed breathing of the senior executives. After a moment. Mo Shaoshang picked up a pen. He signed his name on the last page of the document. Seeing this, Lin Ke announced to everyone: "Approved." Two light words, but they were the final verdict. Sun Dafu and Han Minshan exchanged glances, their expressions different, and quickly looked away. After the meeting, everyone dispersed. Sun Dafu went alone to the stairwell, stood by the window, and lit a cigarette. The smoke rose slowly, blending into the dim light. He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled; the taste of nicotine spread in his lungs, bringing a burning sensation of pleasure. Then, Sun Dafu took out his phone and edited a short message: [The project has been approved by the Investment Decision Committee. Mo Shaoshang signed. Young master, it's done.] After a moment, the phone vibrated lightly. The reply came: [Hard work] Sun Dafu: [The stuff from the Italians holds up to scrutiny, but Mo Shaoshang's business acumen is extremely sharp. I was sweating before the meeting today, afraid he might notice something, but unexpectedly...] The other party: [His most beloved little nightingale has flown away. Mo Shaoshang must be in complete disarray and restless now. No matter how strong anyone's psychological quality is, as long as they are mortal flesh and blood, it's impossible to maintain calm and precise judgment at such a time.] Sun Dafu: [Understood.] Sun Dafu: [Your move kills two birds with one stone. Truly brilliant.] The other party: [For the matters ahead, Uncle Sun, please take more care.] Sun Dafu: [It's my duty.] After replying this, Sun Dafu curled his lips and put his phone back in his pocket. He took another drag of his cigarette, looked up at the gloomy sky outside the window. In the distance, a crow flapped its wings across the sky and disappeared into the gray clouds in the blink of an eye.

*

Late at night, an underground bar in Jinghai City. Inside the hall, alcohol and perfume mingled, entwining ambiguously. By the bar counter, amber liquor swirled gently in glasses, lamplight flowing along the rims. Some whispered, some laughed loudly. The drumbeat pounded heavily on the heart, as if even the wood grain of the tables were tipsy. Passing through a narrow corridor and pushing open an unremarkable wooden door, the world before them was dimly lit, with ambiguous red and purple lights intertwining, the air filled with various unpleasant smells. At the very end of the corner was a private booth. Leather sofa, crystal coffee table, a few abstract paintings on the wall, the light dimmer than outside. Unlike the chaotic world outside, this place felt completely vacuum-sealed, comfortable, clean, with the scent of high-end fragrance floating in the air. Qiao Mingyi sat on the sofa, legs crossed, holding a martini, sipping it slowly. It was already early winter, but she wore a black slip dress, generously showing off her good figure, her makeup as always, delicate and bright. Soon, the booth door opened, and a tall, slender man walked in. Without saying a word or greeting Qiao Mingyi, he walked straight to the sofa opposite her, bent down, and sat down. "How rare," Qiao Mingyi said, scanning the man with her eyes and raising an eyebrow. "Young Master Pei actually asked me out for a drink. I'm flattered." The ambiguous light shone into Pei Xizhou's eyes but couldn't hide the coldness within. He looked at Qiao Mingyi and got straight to the point: "I heard that Miss Qiao had some paparazzi take some photos before?" "..." Qiao Mingyi's hand holding the glass paused slightly. A hint of vigilance appeared in her eyes, and she said in a low voice, "I don't know what you're talking about." "We're all sensible people, so there's no need to play dumb here," Pei Xizhou said. "I know you have some dirt on Mo Shaoshang." Seeing that he had laid it out so plainly, Qiao Mingyi pursed her lips, knowing that pretending to be ignorant was no longer meaningful. After a moment, she asked Pei Xizhou, "How do you know about this?" "You don't need to worry about how I know," Pei Xizhou said calmly, taking a bank card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, placing it on the coffee table, and slowly sliding it in front of her. "I came today to remind you to keep those photos safe. They must only see the light at a critical moment." Qiao Mingyi stared at the bank card, making no move. Her vigilance had reached its peak. "Did Mo Shaoshang send you?" Qiao Mingyi asked again, her voice revealing barely concealed tension. Pei Xizhou shook his head. Qiao Mingyi frowned, seeming even more confused. "Then why do you care about these photos?" Pei Xizhou's tone grew colder: "Knowing too much won't do you any good." Qiao Mingyi pondered for a long time but couldn't figure it out. But the bank card was right there, and the amount was surely not small. It was a deal that wouldn't lose her anything, so she stopped thinking about it. Then, Qiao Mingyi lazily leaned back into the sofa, took out a lady's cigarette, and lit it with a lighter. The flame flickered between her fingers for a moment, illuminating her face. She took a puff, tapped the ash, and her tone relaxed a bit. "Mr. Pei went out of his way to find me just to say this?" Pei Xizhou didn't answer; instead, he reached for the glass of foreign liquor on the table and took a sip. The amber liquid swirled gently in the glass. "I heard..." He set down the glass and suddenly changed the subject. "Miss Qiao has some grudge against Teacher Wen Yicong?" Qiao Mingyi's expression changed slightly. She stubbed out the cigarette she had only smoked twice and her tone turned cold. "That's none of your business." "Teacher Wen is my friend," Pei Xizhou said lightly. "She's alone in France now. I came to see Miss Qiao mainly to mediate the conflict between you." "..." Qiao Mingyi looked up. Pei Xizhou's gaze fell directly on Qiao Mingyi's face, his voice softening a little. "I wouldn't want anything unexpected to happen to her in a foreign land." Qiao Mingyi narrowed her eyes. "Alright, that's all I have to say. Goodbye, Miss Qiao." With that, Pei Xizhou stood up and strode away. The door opened and closed. Silence returned. Qiao Mingyi sat on the sofa, staring at the unfinished drink Pei Xizhou had left, her mind racing. Wen Yicong... France... Accident? In just a few seconds, a flash of vengeful cruelty appeared in her eyes, and she curled her lips. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a number. After a few rings, it connected. "Hello?" a young man's voice answered. "Wen Yicong is alone in France now," Qiao Mingyi said softly. "You know what to do next, don't you?" "Got it."

-----------------------

Author's note: Nongnong really has no understanding of Momo, and Momo is indeed a very, very complex person. Many mysteries will be revealed one by one as the story unfolds. Also, the feelings between the young couple deepen from shallow to deep, from physical infatuation to soul resonance; after all, they have to go through some storms and trials. I won't spoil too much.

PS

The main story is entering the closing part. It is expected to be completed in about a week. After that, there will be many sweet extras and hidden plots~ Love you all!

——

Random 100 red packets

——

The column has opened a new synopsis for "Wildfire Kiss Me," a "Mountains and Rivers" series story that will start this year. Interested readers can bookmark it in advance~

Synopsis:

On the eve of graduating from the police academy, 22-year-old Shu Jiayu traveled thousands of miles from Beicheng to Heyuan.

Heyuan, the border line.

Various forces entrenched, all kinds of people mixed together. The boundary between day and darkness blurred here like the thick fog of the rainy season.

Late night, Abandoned Factory.

In the backlit area, a tall man leaned against the wall, eyes downcast, his slender fingers idly playing with an unlit cigarette.

Dark light came from the side, cutting sharp angles on his face: prominent brow bones, straight nose bridge, a cold, hard jawline like carved.

Even in his most relaxed posture, he couldn't hide that extreme sense of oppression—decadent, ruffian, yet sharp.

Like a blade that had been sharpened and accustomed to blood.

Their eyes met, and Shu Jiayu was pinned in place by the man's gaze, her breath catching.

His eyes fell on her, cold and unruffled, scanning her from top to bottom without any emotion, as if checking a serial number.

After a moment, the man spoke: "Shu Jiayu?"

She straightened her back: "...Yes."

"Hello, I'm Chen Wenzhou," the man said, stepping forward a few paces, his tone flat. "Nice to meet you."

Shu Jiayu's heart pounded wildly.

She had heard the name "Chen Wenzhou" before.

The captain of the National Security Special Police Unit, the anchor of the entire system, the supreme commander of this operation, her top superior.

And also—

The husband assigned to her by the organization.

Her fake marriage partner during her undercover period at the border.

*

When he first saw Shu Jiayu, Chen Wenzhou frowned.

The mission was arduous, a matter of life and death, with an extremely high risk factor. Why had the higher-ups sent him a quiet, pretty young girl?

When Shu Jiayu first saw Chen Wenzhou, her fingers clenched the hem of her clothes.

To live day and night with a man like this, playing the most intimate couple—just thinking about it made her nervous and weak in the knees.

Later.

Amid the stormy border, walking on the edge of a knife day and night,

Chen Wenzhou watched with his own eyes as this soft young girl dismantled bombs, identified traps, disguised herself, and counter-killed, calm enough to send chills down one's spine.

And Shu Jiayu also discovered that this rough, cold, and hard man would patiently soothe her in a gentle voice when she trembled: "Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Later, after months of cohabitation.

Shu Jiayu often had a flushed face, moist eyes, and inexplicably weaker legs.

And Chen Wenzhou finally understood what it meant to love someone to the bone, through life and death, unable to stop.