[Like a dying animal, like the most loyal companion.]

Her decision to leave wasn’t some calculated act of playing hard to get—it was a clean and decisive turn away, as if she had no intention of speaking with him further or even asking why he was in City A.

It was he who couldn’t help but call out to her. “Let me take you.”

She stopped, turned back, and gave him a smile. Then, glancing at the bright lampposts, she said, “No need. It’s well-lit here now. I can walk alone.”

An objective statement, yet it cut deep into him. To his ears, it carried a double meaning—an acknowledgment that she no longer needed him by her side.

“Still, let me,” he thought for a moment before walking up beside her, matching her pace. “It’s late. Not safe.”

She shrugged, carefree and unburdened, showing none of the awkwardness one might expect from an ex. “Alright then—thank you.”

They walked toward the road to hail a taxi, but Zhou Leqi suddenly had the idea to check if the bus they used to take was still running. Upon arriving at the stop, she found it unchanged from seven years ago, save for the updated advertisements.

Zhou Leqi examined it with interest. Just then, the bus arrived, its massive body clunking clumsily to a halt. Only a few people disembarked at the terminal stop. Hou Zihao glanced at the bus, and in an instant, memories of their senior year flooded back. After dropping her off each night, he would ride this bus back downtown alone.

“...Want to take it?” he asked impulsively.

A spontaneous suggestion, ill-timed… but sincere.

Zhou Leqi paused, glancing at the bus, memories surfacing in her mind as well. But she shook her head and declined. “Maybe not. I need to check in at the hotel.”

His fantasy shattered instantly.

Right… they were no longer lovers. It wasn’t appropriate to revisit old sweetness together. Clearly, she was more level-headed than him, probably having truly moved on.

Hou Zihao’s heart was a mixture of emotions. He felt a bit glad, pleased that she had emerged from the mire, but also a tinge of sadness. He knew he could never escape it himself. And there was bitterness too—he couldn’t help wondering if her quick recovery meant she had already fallen for someone else…

…All baseless imaginings.

In the end, they hailed a taxi together. The ride was quiet, punctuated by only a few casual exchanges.

It was she who spoke first. “Why did you suddenly return to City A? Something to do?”

He replied evasively, avoiding her gaze. “Just a small matter.”

Not a small matter at all… He had returned to visit his mother, who was still imprisoned in City A. He had submitted a visitation request a week ago and would likely see her tomorrow or the day after.

“Oh,” she responded, not pressing further, seemingly uninterested in his affairs. After a moment of hesitation, he asked her, “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“What brings you to City A?”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Just a small matter.”

Both concealing, both shielding—neither spoke the truth.

They both understood the other wasn’t going to elaborate, so the conversation ended. As they neared her hotel, she finally spoke again, asking, “Where are you staying?”

He turned to look at her, neon lights flickering across his sharp features. She heard him reply, “…At home.”

She froze, realization dawning.

He meant Haoting International.

That was his home.

Though… that house no longer held his family.

She averted her gaze, twisting her line of sight to suppress the sudden pang of pain rising for him. Just then, they arrived at her destination. Ignoring his offer, she insisted on paying the fare herself, grabbed her suitcase, and waved at him from the car window. “I’m here. Goodbye.”

He sat immersed in the shadows of the car, only his eyes catching the faintest glimmer of light as he watched her. “Alright. Goodbye.”

Zhou Leqi didn’t sleep well that night.

She had a surreal dream filled with disjointed, illogical fragments—upside-down staircases, distorted clock hands, strange sounds of high heels, chaotic data reports… The only clear figure was him. But eventually, he too was swallowed by shadows. In the final moment before he disappeared, she reached out to grab him, only to find her hand clutching nothing but mist.

When she woke, her heart raced uncontrollably, her temples throbbing painfully. She glanced outside—the sky was overcast, and she felt an inexplicable unease, as though sensing something bad was about to happen. But she tried to convince herself it was just the low-pressure weather affecting her.

During breakfast at the hotel, she sent several messages to Ding Peng, all asking if Luo Siyu was back. There was no response. She called him multiple times too, but he didn’t pick up. Zhou Leqi guessed Luo Siyu must have forbidden him from replying. Fortunately, she couldn’t run far. Determined, Zhou Leqi decided to wait directly outside Luo Siyu’s apartment.

Unable to eat much, she quickly checked out and hailed another taxi to Luo Siyu’s place. The narrow roads of the old residential complex made it difficult for taxis to enter, so she asked the driver to stop at the main road intersection and got out with her suitcase.

Preparing for a prolonged wait, she planned to store her luggage at a nearby mall before heading to Luo Siyu’s door. Scanning her surroundings, she spotted a supermarket and began dragging her suitcase toward the crosswalk, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Soon enough, the signal changed, and she stepped onto the road.

Lost in thought, she mulled over various scenarios: What if Luo Siyu was determined to hide indefinitely? What if she refused to admit anything? What if she couldn’t resolve this issue before returning to Beijing tomorrow?

Her thoughts trailed on when suddenly, she heard a cacophony of noises—gasps from the crowd, tires screeching against the pavement, the roar of an engine nearby…

She didn’t snap out of it immediately, her attention still scattered. Reflexively, she turned her head toward the source of the noise and realized a shadow was already looming over her—a massive truck barreling straight toward her. The sharp sound of brakes pierced the air, horns blaring like thunder, overwhelming her senses. She had no time to react.

That was the moment between life and death.

In such moments, the human mind struggles to make decisions. Her brain went blank, primal instincts screaming warnings to act. Yet her body was sluggish, paralyzed under the immense pressure of impending death. All that remained was the despair of waiting for destruction.

…But then someone came.

In that instant when danger struck without warning, someone came.

From a place of absolute safety, he ran toward her. Her eyes didn’t catch him in time, but she suddenly felt a tremendous force envelop her from behind. In the next moment, she was tackled away, like a kite cut loose from its string.

She should have felt pain, but she didn’t. That person held her tightly, cradling her as they crashed violently to the ground. She felt his hand cupping the back of her head, shielding her as they rolled across the cold, hard asphalt. Throughout it all, she felt no pain—because he blocked every blow the world threw at her.

Her vision failed during those fleeting seconds, but she could still identify him. That familiar scent—she couldn’t mistake it.

And then she heard his voice—

“…Zhou Leqi?”

She heard his labored breathing, trembling with utter panic. Closest to her ear, she heard his heartbeat—thump, thump, thump—each beat pounding into her soul, telling her how terrified and anguished he was.

She opened her eyes, still lying dazed on the ground. He hovered above her, propping himself up to look down at her. His deep eyes were bloodshot—no longer as open and bright as in their youth, nor as dark and brooding as during their recent reunion. They were simply shattered, consumed by fear. Like a dying animal, like the most loyal companion.

The world beyond seemed dim and oppressive, but within the shelter of his arms, she felt only safety and warmth.

She nearly lost her voice, her numb body slowly awakening in the aftermath. Her arms moved of their own accord, trembling as they wrapped around his neck.

Hugging him, tears streaming down like rain.

He remained tense, trying to pull back to check her condition while simultaneously wanting to hold her even tighter.

She heard his voice, trembling so badly it was almost incoherent, asking, “…Does it hurt?”

“Zhou Leqi… does it hurt?”

Plop.

His question triggered something within her, and the tears flowed even harder. She cried like a child, burying her face in his shoulder and shaking her head desperately. Finally regaining her ability to speak, she answered, “I’m fine… I’m alright…”

I’m fine.

Didn’t you come to save me?

I don’t know why I’m still crying…

Is it because I was scared?

Or is it just because… your arrival makes me feel both joy and sorrow?

I don’t know.

He heard her answer and seemed to exhale in relief. His tense body gradually relaxed, but his embrace tightened, almost as if he wanted to crush her bones.

“That’s good…”

His voice was barely audible, yet she still caught the sob in it. A man who had long endured loneliness, mature and hardened, now fragile like a boy untouched by shadows.

Her fragile heart resonated deeply with his anguish. The world became empty and unreal—everything was false, except for the person before her. She hugged him tighter, disregarding cause or consequence, simply holding him.

Until she felt her palms grow wet and noticed his breathing becoming increasingly irregular…

Her heartbeat quickened. Finally, she slowly and stiffly moved her hand into her line of sight—

…Only to see it covered in crimson red.