As the night deepened, the cold grew sharper. Yet Maera remained on the rooftop, still sitting on her knees as if rooted there. Her coat was torn, blood trickled from her head and had clotted against her brow, her hands were scraped and bruised—but she paid no attention. She sat in silence, as though mourning a loss too vast for words.
It wasn't until Li Cheng came close and placed a hand gently on her shoulder that reality broke through.
"Maera… she's gone," he whispered.
Only then did it strike her—Sim had truly vanished. Maera shook her head in denial, her voice trembling.
"No… she hasn't. I'll find her. I will find her!"
She rose to her feet with sudden determination.
With those words, she strode away.
Li Cheng could only watch, fully aware of her pain. He knew how deeply she loved Sim. The time they had shared together—he could never forget it either. He exhaled a long breath and tilted his head toward the sky. All he could do was pray. The stars shimmered above, oblivious to the ruin and despair suffered by those beneath them. And yet, the beauty of pain was this: when it pierced the heart, it sometimes offered a strange kind of peace to those who still longed.
Turning back, Li Cheng ordered firmly, "Dispose of the bodies. We need to move before word reaches Cobra's headquarters—and we don't have enough armor to hold our ground."
"Yes, sir!" his men responded in unison, swiftly carrying out his command.
Li Cheng left the rooftop. Outside, he found Maera leaning against a car, a cigarette burning between her fingers. He walked up beside her and wordlessly took it from her hand, inhaling once.
"Women shouldn't smoke," he said evenly.
Maera stared at him for a brief moment before reclaiming the cigarette, tossing it to the ground, and grinding it out beneath her shoe.
"No one should smoke. Don't drag gender into it—men bleed the same as women."
her tone did not waver, not even against the wind's howl. Li Cheng couldn't help but smile faintly. In such a bleak moment, her defiance was almost absurd—but then again, wasn't every moment in life absurd in its own way? Happiness didn't depend on the situation; it lived, or it didn't, inside people's hearts.
The wind howled colder. They stood in the valley, desolate and empty. No human, no animal, not even a trace of life stirred for miles.
"What will you do now?" Li Cheng finally asked.
"Now… I will find Sim." Her voice carried no tremor, no warmth—just a flat, unshakable certainty.
"This is impossible. No one has ever escaped Cobra's grasp," he said gently.
"If I have to spend my whole life, I'll still find her. I can't abandon my wife and child like this," Maera replied, eyes lowered to the ground, her tone carved with resolve.
"Then if you ever need me, call. I'll do everything in my power to help you," Li Cheng said quietly.
"Thank you. I'll never forget this favor." She gave him the faintest of smiles.
At that moment, guards approached.
"Sir, it's done. What should we do with the bodies?"
Li Cheng cast a brief glance at the smoldering remains. "The same thing we always do."
The men nodded, and within minutes the place was engulfed in smoke. Four black SUVs roared down the road, leaving only flames and ash behind.
In the backseat, Maera leaned her head against the cushion, eyes closed. Li Cheng glanced at her.
"You…" he began softly.
But before he could finish, Maera's voice broke the silence.
"Just drop me home."
Li Cheng gave no reply. He knew how Maera was feeling, but he can't do anything, he felt himself so helpless. He simply nodded. Extending his hand out the window, he made a signal; the SUVs following behind shifted their course and disappeared into the distance. Turning the wheel, Li Cheng steered the car toward Maera's home.
_____________________________________________
Li Cheng stepped into the main hall and paused. On the sofa sat Sara, a flute in her hands. Beside her, her grandmother gently ran fingers through her hair, and Sara held her hand as though it were her only anchor.
At the sight, Li Cheng immediately went down on one knee in greeting."Matriarch."
Sara's grandmother rose gracefully. "Li, you may stand."
She carried herself with the same elegance as always. Li Cheng stood, silent, and watched as the elder woman turned back to Sara with a fond smile."Sara plays the flute so beautifully," she said warmly.
Li Cheng lowered his head in quiet respect, offering no reply. The matriarch gave his shoulder a gentle pat before leaving the hall.
Once she was gone, Li Cheng's gaze returned to Sara. Even slouched sideways, asleep on the sofa, she looked heartbreakingly delicate—her face pale, her eyes slightly swollen from fatigue, her lashes long against her cheeks. It was the first time Li Cheng truly allowed himself to look at her so closely.
But she seemed uncomfortable, her body shifting restlessly. Concerned, Li Cheng stepped forward. Removing his coat, he set it aside, brushed a strand of hair from her face, and slipped his hand beneath her head to lift her gently.
The moment his touch grazed her, Sara's eyes flew open.
"Aghhh!" she screamed, shoving him back with all her strength. Trembling, she curled into the corner of the sofa, eyes wide with terror.
Li Cheng stumbled, unprepared for the sudden blow, but quickly regained balance. When he looked back, Sara's eyes were bloodshot with sleep and fear.
He moved a step toward her, but she flinched, voice breaking:"No—don't come near me! I'll kill you! Stay away… stay away from me!"
She scrambled off the sofa, trying to run upstairs, but Li Cheng caught her by the arm."Relax, Sara—it's me, Li Cheng!"
"No, let me go! You filthy man, let me go!" she cried, struggling frantically, her hands twisting to escape his grip.
Holding her shoulders firmly, Li Cheng locked eyes with her."Sara, breathe. Relax. No one can hurt you here. You're safe. Relax…"
Something in his steady tone reached her. She froze.
"Good," he whispered. "Now breathe… breathe. Sit down."
Guiding her carefully, he led her back to the sofa. She obeyed in silence, though her body trembled. He poured her a glass of water and handed it over. She took it wordlessly.
Five minutes passed. Her breathing steadied, the storm within slowly subsiding. Li Cheng, however, was still shaken, speechless in the heavy silence that hung between them.
Finally, Sara broke it."Mr. Li… I'm sorry."
Li Cheng straightened. "Sara, if there's something troubling you—you can tell me."
Her lips pressed tightly together. For a moment, she only glanced toward the guards standing at the far end of the hall.
Li Cheng followed her eyes, then gestured sharply. "Leave us."
The guards bowed and withdrew, leaving the hall empty.
"You can trust me," Li Cheng said softly. "Your mother entrusted your safety to me."
At those words, Sara's composure crumbled. Tears spilled, falling onto her hands clasped in her lap."My mother told you to protect me… but she never knew what I endured, even under her roof."
Her voice trembled, breaking under the weight of years.
"I… I was harassed in my own home," she whispered. Her throat closed; she reached for the water and forced herself to swallow before continuing. "For three years… even while everyone was in the house."
The words struck Li Cheng like a thunderbolt. His chest tightened, his voice low."What…?"
Lifting her eyes, Sara met his gaze through her tears."Do you know who it was, Mr. Li? My own father."
The confession tore from her in sobs, her whole body shaking."Everyone was there—my family, my siblings—but I could never tell anyone. I was only fourteen. I had always been close to my dad… we were friends. But what he did… what kind of friend does that?"
She wept harder."In front of everyone, he would play with me, laugh with me. But the moment he had me in his grasp… he would—" Her voice faltered. Her hands shook violently where they rested on the sofa.
Li Cheng watched in silence, fury building in his veins. Slowly, he reached forward, taking her trembling hands into his.
Sara's voice broke as she forced the words out."He touched me. My chest. He would squeeze—again and again. I struggled, I pushed, I fought—but until I broke free, he wouldn't stop. Who would have believed me? My mother hated me. My siblings thought I was a liar. I endured it for three years."
Her tears blurred everything."At night, he would come into my room. He would touch me while I slept. And when I woke, he'd act as if he had just stepped in for something else. Who touches their sleeping daughter like that? I stopped sleeping. I stopped being alone. And if I reacted, if I resisted—he cursed me. He punished me for his own sins."
Her sobs turned into heaving cries."He did everything but the last step. Everything. Until now, I hate the words romance… marriage. I hate being touched."
Sara collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably, her entire body wracked with pain. Li Cheng's eyes burned red with suppressed rage, his jaw clenched. He drew her into his arms, holding her tightly as she clung to his shirt in desperation.
"Only when I fell in love with Maera did things change. She brought me into the light… but it was only the calm before the storm."
Another revelation, shaking Li Cheng to his core. He could hardly breathe.
"Mr. Li… I'm not worthy of anything anymore. I still love my father as a daughter—but as a woman, I hate him more than anyone in this world. I was never worthy to begin with… and he took what little was left. Now… now I have nothing left to lose."
Her words dissolved into sobs, her body trembling in his arms. Li Cheng stroked her back gently, offering what comfort he could.
After some time, he helped her to her bed, supporting her carefully. From his pocket, he produced a small sleeping pill. "Take this—it will help."
She placed it on her tongue. He poured a glass of water, held it out, and she swallowed it slowly.
"Thank you, Mr. Li," she whispered after a pause. "This secret… in this whole world, you're the only one who knows."
Li Cheng rested a hand on her shoulder, firm and steady."Trust me, Sara. Your secret is safe with me—always."
He stood. She lay back beneath the blanket as he drew it over her. With one last glance, he switched off the light and left the room in silence.
_____________
When Li Cheng stepped out of Sara's room, his restraint finally began to crack. His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails had pierced his palms, leaving small wounds in their wake. His jaw was locked with such force it throbbed with pain, but he didn't care.
Staggering, almost blindly, he forced himself down the corridor until he reached his own room. The moment he entered, he slammed the door shut behind him.
His composure shattered.
Ripping the glasses from his face, he hurled them across the room. His breathing turned ragged, panic rising like fire in his chest. He yanked his tie loose with trembling hands, his eyes burning red from fury and grief.
"Sara… I will avenge you. I'll give you the justice you were denied," he whispered to himself, each word carved with rage.
Collapsing onto the edge of the bed, he bowed his head. His thoughts spiraled. Where had he failed? How could the girl who presented herself to the world with such poise… be so hollow and broken inside?
With a growl of frustration, he dragged his hands through his hair, tugging hard, as if the pain could drown out his turmoil. Too much had happened in a single day. Li Cheng had reached his limit.
Here, in solitude, he finally allowed himself to unravel—this was the only space where he could touch his own wounds.
But he had no luxury of time.
Rising abruptly, he tore off his shirt. The scars and bruises across his torso stood stark beneath the dim light. Without hesitation, he moved toward the heavy punching bag in the corner.
One. Two. Three.
His fists pounded against it in relentless rhythm. Again and again, blow after blow, until his breath came in harsh, uneven gasps and his muscles screamed in protest. Still, he didn't stop—he couldn't.
Only when his lungs burned and his body threatened collapse did he finally step back, drenched in sweat, knuckles raw.
Dragging himself into the bathroom, he turned on the water. He needed to wash away the blood, the sweat, the fury—before it consumed him entirely.
_________________________________
Zero sat in his lawn, December drawing to its close. The winter air was sharp, his scarf wrapped snugly around his neck, a heavy coat guarding against the chill. In his hand, a glass of wine glinted faintly beneath the night sky. He sipped slowly, letting the silence seep into his bones.
The shrill ring of his phone cut through the stillness.
"Parker," the name flashed.
He picked it up, his voice steady. "Any news?"
A chuckle came from the other end. "No news. Just a dinner invite."
Zero exhaled, caught between irritation and defeat. "Parker…" was all he managed.
"Alright, alright—no more teasing. I called to tell you your job's done," Parker continued.
"And?"
"And everything's stable. Sam has hired new staff. He threw a party tonight. Since then, no issues. Everything's smooth."
Zero leaned back, shoulders loosening. "Thanks, Parker. You've helped a lot."
"That's what friends are for, buddy. Good night." The call ended.
Setting the phone aside, Zero tilted his head back, eyes searching the expanse of the star-filled sky. He began counting them one by one until—suddenly—a shooting star cut across the dark.
Sam's voice echoed in his memory: "Zero, make a wish. Maybe this time it will come true."
Zero smiled faintly, whispered lines under his breath:
*"The world is different, yours and mine,
But may the path become one with time.
You are the moon, I am the night,
Together, we are a story of light…"*
"Could it be," he wondered, "that this time my wish might really come true?"
And then, almost as if in answer, Sam's voice brushed against his ear, warm breath grazing his skin: *"If a prayer is asked with a true heart, Zero, it is always answered."*
Startled, Zero jolted upright, spinning around. The lawn was empty. Just him, his glass, and the cold night air.
He gave a bitter, mocking laugh—laughing at himself. Turning back, he poured another glass, raising it in a lonely toast.
"Let's drink till drunk."
He drained it in one swallow.
__
On the other side of the city, Sam stood on his balcony, a beer bottle in hand. He hadn't bothered with a glass—he never did. The icy breeze toyed with his hair, and for the first time, he understood why Zero always kept his balcony open. The quiet air, the loneliness—it was oddly healing.
A streak of light across the sky caught his eye. The same star.
He smiled to himself, murmuring softly the lines that followed the poem they had once written together:
*"They warned of love, to never fall,
If you must, then let it go,
Leave behind the paths that lead nowhere…"*
He exhaled, his breath trembling. "Did you make a wish tonight, Zero? Or did you ignore it again?"
That poem—they had written it together. A shared creation. A shared wound.
Sam lifted the bottle, taking a long swig as he whispered the remaining verses:
*"You touched me once, it felt like a prayer,
The echo of it still lingers in the air.
What was yesterday is today again,
The journey is here, the destination unseen.
A fleeting moment became a lifetime,
From ashes, love raised us whole—
It changed the wind,
It changed us all…"*
A tear slipped from his eye, catching the pale moonlight. He didn't wipe it away.
This night, even Sam's soul felt restless.
At the last hour of the night, he stood in the piercing cold, clutching his beer as though it could lend him warmth. But perhaps he didn't yet realize—
That love is a strange, merciless thing.
It either gives you every reason to live…
Or it steals them all away.
TO BE CONTINUED....