The sedan glided to a halt before the crystalline facade of the luxury apartment tower. The glass skin of the building reflected the city's neon pulse, but inside the car, the atmosphere remained frozen.
Bai Qi did not dare to lay his eyes on Shu Yao this time.
The image of those translucent ribs and the skeletal collarbone was a brand burned into his mind, a truth he wasn't ready to categorize. When the driver opened the door, Bai Qi stepped out into the cool night air with a deliberate, slow grace.
The driver moved to the other side, opening the door for the "Little Secretary." Shu Yao lifted his gaze, his eyes still clouded by the trauma of their earlier conversation. His soul felt fractured, yet he forced his legs to carry him.
Bai Qi walked past him toward the entrance, his voice a low, muttered command. "Follow me."
He didn't look back. He couldn't. Shu Yao lowered his head and did exactly as he was told, trailing behind like a shadow that had lost its light.
High above, in the penthouse that touched the clouds, Ming Su sat on a velvet couch. She was the picture of idle royalty, examining her perfectly manicured nails.
Her assistant, Naina, stood in the corner, her head bowed in a posture of forced submission.
"You did it well, Naina," Ming Su remarked, her voice airy and light.
Naina remained still, a statue of silent resentment. Ming Su rolled her eyes, her tone sharpening into a blade. "Don't think you can indulge your nose in my perfect plan. It is far beyond your reach."
Naina's mouth twitched, but the hierarchy of the room kept her silent.
"How sweet it will be," Ming Su whispered, tilting her head with a predatory smile. "Bai Qi will never believe his 'Little Secretary.'
But his little secretary thinks he can expose me?.
But he didn't know how stupid He is. He is suffering, yet he dares to challenge me."
She stood up, her black and white ruffled dress rustling like the scales of a serpent.
"How long can he stand in my way? He is just another obstacle to be removed. If I must destroy Bai Qi to win, then so be it."
Her eyes darkened, reflecting a depth of malice that hinted at a much older, more sinister motive. She tapped her cheeks, her expression shifting back to a mask of porcelain sweetness.
"He will be here in minutes. I must make sure he falls ten times harder tonight." She approached Naina, suddenly grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up. "You know exactly what you need to do."
Naina nodded frantically. Ming Su tossed her hand away with a look of pure disdain and walked toward the door to wait for her prey.
Outside, a nondescript taxi pulled up to the curb. George stepped out, his eyes fixed on the entrance of the tower.
He had followed them on purpose, refusing to let the boy he cared for enter the lion's den alone.
He had watched from the distance, seeing the way Shu Yao moved—like a man walking through a graveyard.
He saw the weakness in Shu Yao's stride and the reckless devotion in the way he followed Bai Qi.
"I won't let him break you again, Shu Yao," George whispered to the night air.
He adjusted his coat and began to walk toward the building, a silent guardian moving in the wake of a tragedy.
Inside the foyer, Bai Qi pressed the button for the elevator. His phone buzzed with a message from Ming Su, and he muttered under his breath, "Top floor."
Shu Yao followed him into the elevator, but as the doors slid shut, the world began to tilt. For Shu Yao, the elevator wasn't a luxury—it was a metal box.
A coffin. He felt like he was walking underwater, his lungs struggling to pull oxygen from the pressurized air.
He leaned his back against the cool, mirrored metal, his eyes fluttering shut.
He was terrified, traumatized by the day's events, yet he clung to one thought: Bai Qi is here. If he is here, I am safe.
A surge of irritation—and something that felt dangerously like concern—hit him. If I had known this brat was this sick, I wouldn't have brought him, Bai Qi thought. He could have just said something.
Then, he remembered how he had silenced Shu Yao's every attempt at explanation. He remembered his own barked commands.
As he turned his head to him and shout.
"Are you planning to sleep here?" Bai Qi's voice rang out, nearly a shout in the confined space.
Shu Yao's eyes flew open. The sudden noise, combined with the rising sensation of the elevator, sent a wave of dizziness through him. He lost his balance, his knees buckling.
Before he could hit the floor, Bai Qi's hand shot out. He grabbed Shu Yao by his thin, slim waist, hauling him upward.
"Damnit, you—" Bai Qi growled, his grip tightening.
But Shu Yao didn't pull away. The trauma of the dark, the enclosed space, and the physical proximity of the man he loved triggered a primal response. Shu Yao lunged forward, hiding his face in the charcoal wool of Bai Qi's chest. He grabbed the lapels of Bai Qi's suit jacket, his fingers trembling with a desperate strength.
"I... I'm sorry," Shu Yao wheezed, his voice breaking. "It's going to go black. I don't want to be alone. It's dark... I'm alone..."
His eyes were glistening, overflowing with a sudden, instinctive terror. He wasn't the secretary now; he was the boy from the garden, drowning in a nightmare.
Bai Qi froze. His hands hovered in the air, his knuckles white. He could feel the frantic, hummingbird beat of Shu Yao's heart against his own.
He could feel the boy trembling like a leaf in a storm.
He gritted his teeth, his jaw working as he tried to maintain his "Ice Monarch"
composure. He was seconds away from meeting Ming Su. He couldn't be seen like this. He couldn't feel like this.
"Let go of me," Bai Qi hissed, though his voice lacked its usual lethality.
Shu Yao only buried his face deeper, shaking his head. "No... please..."
Bai Qi's mouth twitched in a volatile mix of anger and confusion. "If you don't want me to shove you so hard you'll remember it for the rest of your life, then let me go!"
But Shu Yao only clung harder, his grip on the suit jacket a lifeline in a world that was fading to black.
The tension in the elevator was no longer a metaphor; it was a physical weight, crushing the remaining strength from Shu Yao's bones.
He looked up at Bai Qi, his eyes glazed with a feverish, desperate clarity. His fingers were white-knuckled, anchored into the fine wool of Bai Qi's lapels.
"Please... don't go," he pleaded, his voice a jagged whisper that echoed off the mirrored walls.
Bai Qi felt a wave of hot, suffocating humiliation wash over him. He was a man of cold logic and absolute control, yet here he was, pinned by a dying boy in a metal cage.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Bai Qi hissed, his voice vibrating with suppressed fury. "Let go of me."
"I can't," Shu Yao gasped, his grip tightening even as his knees trembled. "If I let go... she will hurt you. Please, listen to me..."
The claim hit Bai Qi like an insult. The idea that he—the heir to the Rothenberg legacy—needed protection from a secretary against a girl he viewed as a saint was preposterous. With a low, guttural growl, Bai Qi finally exerted his full strength.
He broke the embrace with a violent, final wrench.
Shu Yao was sent reeling backward. His back slammed against the cold metal rear of the elevator with a dull thud. He gasped, the impact rattling his hollow chest, but he forced his hands to catch his weight against the railing.
Bai Qi stood at the front of the car, his back turned, his fingers flying as he straightened his suit and adjusted his cuffs. His breathing was heavy, his silhouette rigid with a lethal irritation.
"I already warned you," Bai Qi hissed, his voice cutting through the silence. "But you... you have lost your mind."
The elevator doors parted with a smooth, mechanical hiss, revealing the sprawling marble expanse of Ming Su's private foyer. Bai Qi stepped out without a backward
glance, his gait predatory and swift.
"Pathetic," he threw over his shoulder.
Ming Su stood waiting, her hands clasped elegantly. Her eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock crossing her features before it was replaced by a look of profound, dark amusement. She had seen the struggle; she had seen the crack in the Ice Monarch's armor.
Bai Qi averted his gaze from her immediately. He felt a rare, stinging shame. He didn't want to see disappointment in her eyes—the eyes he believed belonged to the girl who had saved him.
Shu Yao dragged himself out of the elevator, his legs feeling like lead.
Ming Su immediately placed a delicate, manicured hand over her mouth, her eyes rounding in a display of mock concern. "Oh, my... Shu Yao? You look so... delicate."
Shu Yao took a sharp step backward.
The "predatory intent" behind her words was as clear to him as a scream. He could see the hunter behind the porcelain mask.
"I—I am sorry," he began, his voice failing him.
"Don't apologize to me, dear," Ming Su chirped, her tone dripping with a honeyed poison.
She did it on purpose—the softness, the feigned pity. She knew exactly how it would look to Bai Qi. She was playing the role of the saint to highlight Shu Yao's "madness."
Bai Qi turned, his eyes burning with disgust. To him, Shu Yao's silence and his trembling were an insult to the lady's hospitality.
"Why are you standing there?" Ming Su asked, turning with a graceful swirl of her ruffled skirts. "Come in. Let us start our feast. Follow me, Qi."
She walked deeper into the penthouse, her pace brisk, knowing that by moving ahead, she was leaving Bai Qi alone to deal with the "obstacle."
The moment Ming Su was out of sight, Bai Qi lunged.
He grabbed Shu Yao by the collar of his light brown suit, hoisting him upward until Shu Yao was forced onto his tiptoes. The scent of Bai Qi's cold cologne filled Shu Yao's senses, but this time, it felt like a chokehold.
"If you try anything reckless," Bai Qi growled, his face inches from Shu Yao's, his obsidian eyes flashing with a terrifying promise. "If you do a single thing to hurt Ming Su's feelings or ruin this night, I swear to God, Shu Yao... I will make you regret every breath you have left."
Shu Yao's lips thinned, his eyes searching Bai Qi's for even a shred of the boy from the courtyard. "But... she is manipulating you," he managed to choke out. "please—"
Bai Qi shoved him away again, a gesture of pure, unadulterated loathing. Shu Yao stumbled, his hand catching the edge of a marble pedestal to keep from falling.
"Don't make me regret everything, Shu Yao," Bai Qi warned one last time, his voice a low, lethal vibration.
He turned his back on the secretary and walked toward the dining room where Ming Su waited.
Shu Yao stayed behind for a moment, his chest heaving, his heart a frantic, irregular drum against his ribs. He felt the cold sweat on his neck and the metallic tang of blood in the back of his throat.
But as he watched the flickering shadows of the candles in the dining room, a sudden, horrifying thought pierced through his exhaustion.
His eyes widened. He remembered the dark look in Ming Su's eyes.
Did she plan to add something to his food?
The fear for his own life vanished, replaced by the same protective fire that had once burned in his sister's soul. He forgot the pain in his arm. He forgot the blackout threatening to take his vision.
He stood up straight, his jaw setting in a line of desperate resolve. He couldn't let her finish it. He couldn't let the serpent strike.
With a staggered, hurried pace, Shu Yao walked toward the light of the dining room—the place where the hunters and the hunted were finally sitting down to eat.