Bojue Hotel? Room 1028? Three years ago?
Bai Chenxi's heart clenched so violently it felt as though it might burst from her chest.
Three years ago. That blurred stretch of time when she had withdrawn from the world—when she had conceived Nian Nian.
Li Sijue was investigating that night. That room. Why? Did he already suspect the truth? Could the man from that night… really be him? But if so, why had he denied it so firmly?
Questions surged like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. She felt herself standing at the center of a vast, inescapable riddle—one where Li Sijue seemed to hold the only thread that could unravel the truth.
In the days that followed, Chenxi's focus wavered despite her best efforts. She filmed her scenes with discipline, but her mind gnawed endlessly at the mystery.
Whenever Li Sijue appeared on set for inspections, she searched for cracks in his icy façade, for slips in his composure that might betray answers. But he remained as unreadable as ever—cold, untouchable, the perfect mask.
It was Zhao Qian's unusual quiet that set Chenxi even more on edge. That woman's nature was venomous. She would never watch idly while Chenxi thrived.
And when snakes went silent, it meant they were coiled to strike.
That afternoon, Chenxi was scheduled to film an important stunt: a dramatic fall into the artificial lake. Though it was only early autumn, the water had already turned icy cold.
The crew checked the harnesses and wires carefully, reassuring her repeatedly. Chenxi braced herself, steadying her breath.
The action began. She was lifted into the air by the rigging, her body arcing toward the water.
Then—something shifted. A sudden slackness at her waist.
The harness snapped loose.
Instead of a controlled descent, she plummeted.
Crash!
The impact was brutal, the lake swallowing her whole. Frigid water closed over her head like a fist.
"Something's wrong! The rig snapped!" chaos erupted on the shore.
Chenxi could swim, but the shock rattled her to the core. The freezing water stole the strength from her limbs. She thrashed, fighting upward, her lungs burning. Water rushed down her throat, choking her, her vision dimming at the edges.
Just as her strength began to fail, a powerful hand seized her arm, unyielding, dragging her upward with the strength of a tide.
The surface broke. Air surged into her lungs as she coughed violently, her body trembling from the cold.
A warm, broad-shouldered figure pulled her to the shore.
Before she could register, a jacket—heavy, still radiating the heat of its owner—was draped firmly around her shoulders. Its faint, clean scent wrapped around her.
Drenched lashes lifted, and her blurred vision cleared enough to meet eyes blazing with fury—and something far rarer. Fear.
Li Sijue's hair was soaked, his shirt plastered to his chest. He had gone into the water after her.
"Get a doctor! Investigate this incident thoroughly!" His voice cracked through the air, low but sharp, edged with lethal command.
He lifted her into his arms without hesitation, carrying her as though she weighed nothing, his steps swift and resolute.
Pressed against his chest, she could feel the pounding of his heartbeat, fierce and ragged, betraying the calm mask on his face.
The world blurred around her. But one thought crystallized in the chaos—
This had not been an accident.
And Li Sijue's reaction—his unguarded, visceral terror—was not merely the concern of an investor protecting his project.
There was more. Much more.
What was he so afraid of losing?