☆ Chapter 1 – A Knock on the Door
Suburbs of N City, USA.
Dusk was falling. The bitter winter had wrapped the entire modern city in a haze of gray mist. Fierce winds howled through the streets, carrying with them tiny pellets of ice. Pedestrians hurried by, bundled tightly in their coats, eyes fixed straight ahead as they passed one another in silence.
At the end of a long, straight street lay a highway that intersected it at a right angle. This highway split the area cleanly into two contrasting worlds: on one side stood the slightly run-down, cluttered part of the city; on the other, a quiet, elegant neighborhood filled with refined villas.
But the street didn't end there. Instead, it dipped in elevation as it reached the highway, burrowing beneath it and continuing on as a narrow, dimly lit tunnel.
Outside the tunnel, the pavement was uneven and cracked. Several metal posts had been installed to block vehicles from entering. Their paint was chipped and peeling. A few grimy-looking vagrants lounged near the entrance, munching on bread given to them by kind-hearted passersby.
Liang Xiaomiao sat at the mouth of the tunnel, staring blankly up at the darkening sky through heavy, smoky eye makeup. Her fingernails dug unconsciously into the strings of the guitar in her arms, as if she were trying to snap them one by one.
Next to her sat a young man wearing the same kind of punk makeup. His sharp features—high nose bridge and chiseled jaw—gave him a strikingly handsome look. Glancing down at Liang Xiaomiao's fingers, he took the cigarette from his lips and wordlessly held it out to her.
Liang Xiaomiao's eyelashes trembled slightly. She naturally leaned over and took the cigarette from the young man's fingers, taking a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air.
The man watched the tunnel lights flicker on and off in the dim distance. In a detached tone, he said, "The forecast says it might snow heavily this week."
"Mm," Xiaomiao responded absentmindedly, holding the cigarette between her fingers.
After a short pause, the man added, "Do you want to come stay at my place? It'll be freezing outside by then."
Xiaomiao gave a dry, sarcastic smile. "And then what? How am I supposed to pay the rent? Sleep with you? But I'm already tired of that."
The man frowned slightly, just about to say something when two figures appeared at the entrance of the tunnel—one tall, one short. The shorter figure dashed toward Xiaomiao, shouting in English, "Kitty!"
Xiaomiao shoved the cigarette back into the man's mouth and stood up, dusting off her hands. "What did you two get?"
The short figure was a white girl who had cut her hair short and dyed it black to suit her punk look. Her lips were painted a deep brownish-black, with a lip ring glinting under the dim lights—she looked like some kind of edgy vampire. Behind her was a tall, handsome white boy with ash-blond hair. Even the heavy black eye shadow couldn't hide the exhaustion on his face.
"Christmas is around the corner, so the supermarket was packed. All we managed to grab were some discounted chicken breasts and a few loaves of bread that are about to expire," the girl said with a shrug, laying the food out on the blanket spread across the floor.
"Not bad." Xiaomiao picked up the biggest piece of chicken breast, stuffed it between two slices of bread, and handed it to the girl. She then divvied up the rest: giving pieces to the two men and keeping the smallest one for herself.
"Here's the leftover money," the girl said, handing Xiaomiao a few crumpled bills. Xiaomiao casually tossed them into her open leather bag nearby.
The blond guy peeked into the bag and asked gloomily, "No one passed by while Maggie and I were gone?"
Xiaomiao replied, "Some did, but no one wanted to stop and listen to me sing. So, no tips either."
His shoulders slumped. "It's getting colder. We're making less and less each day. At this rate, we'll either starve or freeze to death by the afternoon."
Maggie gave him a hard kick. "Hey, Pine, us two girls haven't even started whining yet. Could you act like a man for once? If you really can't take it anymore, go cry to your parents!"
Pine flinched and silently dug into his piece of chicken, no longer daring to complain.
Xiaomiao leaned back into the man who had handed her the cigarette earlier. Absentmindedly chewing on her piece of chicken, she rested against his chest. Maggie looked at her with concern and asked softly, "Kitty, are you okay? You've seemed really down the past couple of days."
Xiaomiao swung her long legs across Maggie's lap and said lazily, "I'm fine, don't worry about me."
Maggie freed up one hand to massage Xiaomiao's calf and glanced up at the cold, sharp-featured man behind her. "Yi, is she really okay?"
An Yi took the last drag from his cigarette and nodded slightly. "She's fine."
Then he offered his piece of chicken breast to Xiaomiao. "Here, you eat this."
Xiaomiao didn't refuse. She opened her mouth and let out a dramatic "ahh" sound. A rare, faint smile flashed across An Yi's usually expressionless face. He tore the chicken into pieces and fed them to her.
He started teasing her like one would play with a cat—holding the meat just out of reach so she had to lift her head to get it. But every time she did, he'd move it away at the last second. After a few times, Xiaomiao finally lost her patience and sank her teeth into his finger, leaving a deep bite mark.
"Hiss..." An Yi drew his hand back and reached for her black hair, but Xiaomiao took the chance to bite his palm again.
As the two of them were goofing around, Maggie suddenly slapped Xiaomiao's leg and cried out excitedly, "Kitty, stop playing! Look—ten o'clock direction!"
Xiaomiao sat up, propping herself against An Yi's leg, and saw a sleek black supercar parked just outside the iron posts at the tunnel's entrance.
Pine whistled. "Is that a Koenigsegg? Damn, that car's insane."
Xiaomiao was just wondering which clueless rich outsider had driven into this godforsaken corner of the city, when the car door opened and a tall, striking man stepped out.
He was dressed in a tailored black suit. His broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist, forming the perfect V-shaped torso. His firm backside and long legs were wrapped snugly in black slacks. Not an ounce of extra flesh on him—he was the definition of sleek and sexy.
Or, as Liang Xiaomiao would say: "Just begging to be taught a lesson."
When the man turned around, the group saw that he had an Asian face—refined and gentle, but still unmistakably masculine. He had the presence of a vast river: calm on the surface, yet undeniably powerful underneath. A stark contrast to An Yi's cold, aggressive handsomeness.
Liang Xiaomiao licked her lips and was just about to stand up when she noticed someone else getting out of the car.
It was a tall, long-legged blonde woman, looking like she'd stepped straight off a runway. Her features were angelically delicate—but at the moment, this beautiful angel had been crying her eyes red. She threw herself into the arms of the refined man and clung tightly to him.
Even from five or six meters away, the group huddled in the tunnel could clearly hear her emotional voice:
"Please, Yang, I don't want to break up. If I did something wrong, just tell me—I can change for you!"
The man didn't push her away, but his face was etched with discomfort. When he spoke, his voice was as warm and smooth as his appearance, carrying a natural magnetism. "This really isn't your fault. I'm sorry. I have to admit... I just couldn't fall in love with you. If we keep going like this, we'll only hurt each other more."
"I can make you love me! Just tell me what kind of girl you like, okay?" the blonde pleaded desperately.
But the man remained unmoved. At last, he gently pushed her away and took a small box from the car, offering it to her with a voice full of sincerity and apology. "I'm sorry for wasting your time and your feelings. Please take this. I hope you'll meet someone better than me."
The girl wiped her tears. "Can I open it?"
"Of course," he said with a gentle nod.
She unwrapped the beautifully packaged box and found a Patek Philippe watch inside.
Liang Xiaomiao, with her cat-like sharp eyes, immediately caught the flash of joy that lit up in the girl's eyes—gone in a blink, but unmistakable.
Her lips curled into a sly grin.
Sure enough, the blonde stopped crying the moment she saw the gift. With reddened eyes, she said to the man, "Okay, Yang, I know you don't like girls who cling. Even if we can't be together, I'll still love you forever."
The man furrowed his brow slightly. "I appreciate the thought—but please, forget about me."
The two shared a polite parting hug. The blonde gave him a little wave, then turned and walked away, heading to the main road to flag down a taxi.
Left alone, the man leaned against his car for a moment, staring blankly into the distance. Snapping out of it, he turned to get back in his vehicle and drive through the tunnel—only to notice the row of metal bollards blocking the way.
He tried to move them, but they were cemented into the ground. Frowning slightly, he rubbed his forehead and glanced toward the tunnel interior in confusion.
Liang Xiaomiao's eyes lit up. She set down her guitar and jogged over, speaking in English: "Trying to get through the tunnel to the villa side?"
That clear, lilting voice startled Shu Mingyang. He turned toward her, needing a moment to be sure that this pleasantly melodic voice came from the girl in front of him—clad in black leather, heavy punk makeup obscuring most of her face.
He nodded politely. "Yes. Is this area under construction?"
Xiaomiao leaned casually against the tunnel entrance. "Not at all. This tunnel was built over ten years ago—it's strictly a pedestrian walkway, no cars allowed. But the developers on the villa side kept telling buyers like you that you could drive straight through here. Made the place sound more convenient. Once you move in, well... too late to complain."
Shu Mingyang let out a helpless chuckle. "Yeah, too late indeed. The nearest road around takes at least half an hour."
Xiaomiao gave him a sympathetic look. "Mm-hmm. But... there is a faster way."
"What is it?" he asked. "Would you mind telling me?"
She pointed to his car. "Don't drive. Just walk back through the tunnel—it takes less than ten minutes. I've done it."
Shu Mingyang smiled wryly. "Good advice. But I think I'll stick with the long drive. Still, thank you."
He nodded and turned to leave, but Xiaomiao called after him. "Hey! That's it? I helped you out big time—you're not even going to tell me your name?"
"Big time?" Shu Mingyang nearly laughed, but when he looked back at her—those star-bright eyes gleaming behind the heavy eye shadow—he hesitated, then gave in. "Shu Mingyang," he said in Mandarin.
Xiaomiao raised a brow and switched languages. "From China? Or are you ABC?"
"From China. I'm here on business. And you?"
Her expression changed in an instant, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What does that have to do with you? Asking so many questions."
"Sorry," he said quickly. "I won't ask. But surely you could at least tell me your name?"
"Nope." She shot him a playful glare, turned, and bounced a few steps away before twisting back to grin at him. "If you pass through here again tomorrow, maybe I'll tell you."
Shu Mingyang smiled, shaking his head. So this is what they mean by 'punk attitude,' huh? He didn't dwell on it, simply got in his car and drove away.
Xiaomiao returned to the others. Maggie poked her in the waist with a mischievous grin. "Falling in love again?"
Xiaomiao grinned, then turned to rummage through An Yi's coat pocket. "Got a smoke?"
An Yi's expression soured. "Out. There's still chicken, want more?"
Xiaomiao rolled her eyes at him and bit her finger with a smirk. "When a full-course meal delivers itself to your door... who still wants leftovers?"