Looking toward the pale-faced girl, An'ran let out a low chuckle.
"She?" Her crimson lips curled into something between amusement and disdain. "Let's go for a small flashback."
Flashback.
Meng An'ran—the only daughter of the powerful Meng family—was not just another heiress. Elegant, ruthless, and unapologetically bold, she had already taken over the family's flourishing empire of chain restaurants and elite bars. And among them, the Cloud Paradise Club stood tall—an iconic sanctuary of indulgence for the rich, famous, and untouchable.
Earlier that evening, Meng An'ran had decided to drop by for a surprise inspection. Clad in a sleek black coat and flanked by two assistants, she moved through the club with practiced ease, her stilettos clicking softly on the marble floor.
But just as she was about to enter her private elevator, her assistant whispered something that made her stop mid-step.
"Miss Meng… We received a tip. That man—the one—he's escaped. The bastard who tried to kidnap and rape you and Miss Jiang… He's out."
A beat of silence.
An'ran's entire demeanor shifted—fury masked behind icy calm.
"Get him," she said coldly. "I don't care how. Drag him here. Alive."
The orders were followed without hesitation. And by the time she was seated in her dimly lit VVIP room, sipping aged whiskey and waiting with unsettling patience, the man was thrown at her feet—bloody, tied, and still struggling.
She didn't scream.
She didn't yell.
She just began… the lesson.
But midway through the punishment—a door creaked open unexpectedly.
A girl, barely out of her teens, staggered in, her heels clacking against the floor as she muttered to herself. Her dress clung to her like a second skin, her eyeliner smudged from sweat and liquor.
"...is this the ladies'—oh..." She stopped. Eyes widened. Mouth opened. Silent gasp.
Blood.
Rope.
A knife glinting under low light.
And Meng An'ran's unflinching gaze.
Present.
"…the chick wandered in thinking it was a washroom," An'ran said with a lazy wave of her hand, her voice dragging Zhiqing back to the present. "She nearly pissed herself when she saw the scene."
Zhiqing gave a short, humorless laugh, folding her arms. "Lucky girl. Any other room and she would've ended up unconscious in a karaoke booth."
An'ran glanced casually toward the girl, who was still frozen near the door like a deer in headlights.
"Turns out she's a small celebrity," she said, tilting her chin. "Came here to drink herself numb after she was rejected by your company twice."
Zhiqing's eyes gleamed, a slow, knowing smirk curling at the edge of her lips.
"Oh, that's why I'm thinking of where I saw her," she muttered before turning to An'ran. "What are you planning to do with her?"
An'ran scoffed lightly, her gaze still fixed on the girl.
"This chick wants to be a phoenix in the entertainment industry like you," she said, swirling the liquor in her glass. "So she made a deal with me—she sold herself to me at the cost of not telling anyone about this little bloodbath instead of her life."
Zhiqing raised a brow, looking at the girl with fresh interest.
"Oh?" she mused. "Smart—or just desperate?"
The girl flinched under Zhiqing's gaze but remained silent, clutching the hem of her dress like it was the only thing keeping her standing.
"She begged," An'ran said with a cold smile. "Said she'd do anything. I told her there's no going back. She agreed."
Zhiqing walked over to the girl slowly, her heels tapping against the floor like a countdown. She stopped just inches away, leaning in close.
"What's your name?"
The girl's lips trembled. "Y-Yu Feifei."
"Hmm." Zhiqing tilted her head thoughtfully, eyes narrowing with interest. "Yu Feifei... why do I feel like you didn't end up here by accident, but rather, it was your little scheme to get An'ran's attention?"
The moment those words left her mouth, Yu Feifei's legs began to tremble visibly. Her eyes darted between the two women—one cloaked in bloodstained grace, the other drowning in power and danger.
Zhiqing stepped even closer, the soft scent of her perfume contrasting the iron tang of blood that still lingered in the air. She gently lifted Feifei's chin with two fingers, forcing the girl to meet her cold, piercing gaze.
"Even if it was your scheme to get An'ran's attention," Zhiqing said in a low, chilling tone, "I like your boldness."
Yu Feifei's lips trembled, but she didn't look away. Not because she was fearless—but because Zhiqing's grip wouldn't allow it.
Behind them, An'ran poured herself another drink, her eyes cool and amused as she swirled the liquid in her glass.
"She sold herself," An'ran said lazily, not even glancing toward the girl. "Not out of bravery… but desperation. She thinks playing the pawn will get her on the board."
Feifei clenched her fists. "I—I don't want to be a pawn. I just wanted a chance. I didn't know what was happening in this room, I swear—"
Zhiqing let go of her chin slowly, her fingers wiping off an invisible speck as if the touch had soiled her.
"You didn't know?" she echoed, voice thick with sarcasm. "A drunken girl just wanders into a locked VVIP room at the back of a private corridor guarded by two bouncers?"
Feifei bit her lip hard, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she stayed quiet.
"Exactly," An'ran said, walking forward now, heels clicking against the floor as she stopped beside Zhiqing. "But she played it well. The fear. The trembling. The half-broken innocence. It almost worked… until it didn't."
Zhiqing smirked again. "So, what now? Are you going to keep her, like a stray cat that wandered into a crime scene?"
An'ran raised a brow. "Not a stray. A tool. She's mine now. And if she behaves, she might just find her way into the spotlight she so desperately wants."
Yu Feifei finally spoke, her voice hoarse. "I'll do anything. Just… don't make me disappear."
Zhiqing gave a dark laugh, turning away.
"Sweetheart, no one's going to make you disappear," she said over her shoulder. "You already vanished the moment you signed yourself over."