That night, two girls nestled beside Qian Yu in the quiet glow of a moonlit bedroom.
Neither one was willing to yield an inch.
"Brother Qian Yu, I'm cold... Can I sleep in your arms?" Ning Rongrong asked sweetly, her voice soft and teasing.
Without waiting for an answer, she slipped into his embrace, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Not to be outdone, Xiao Wu immediately clambered to his other side. "Me too! I want hugs too!" she demanded, wrapping herself around his other arm like a possessive cat.
And just like that, Qian Yu found himself trapped—an unwilling pillow between two determined young women.
He sighed, the faintest crease forming on his brow.
No torment is greater than the kindness of beauties.
How was he supposed to get any sleep like this?
Eventually, silence fell over the room. The girls' breathing steadied, and their warm bodies grew still. Only then did Qian Yu gently rise from the bed, careful not to disturb them.
He stepped out into the courtyard, where the night air was cool and the stars glittered like scattered silver dust. Tucked behind the villa was a small natural hot spring, its surface steaming faintly beneath the moonlight.
Shedding his clothes, Qian Yu eased into the water with a quiet sigh. The warmth wrapped around him like a silken blanket, washing away the day's fatigue—not that he was physically exhausted. No, this soak was more about indulgence than necessity.
Yet even in peace, he remained alert. Somewhere in the darkness, a shadow stirred.
He'd sensed the presence since morning—subtle, but unmistakably deliberate.
Someone had been following them.
He hadn't acted on it. Not yet. He wanted to see who would make the first move.
So he stayed still, back turned, seemingly unaware.
Then it happened.
A whisper of movement in the air—too fast, too close.
In an instant, a figure lunged from the shadows, blade in hand, aiming directly for his back.
But Qian Yu didn't flinch.
Just as the attacker reached striking distance, he turned, eyes calm and clear. His hand snapped up, catching the assassin's wrist mid-strike.
There she stood—a girl clad in a tight black bodysuit, soaked from head to toe. Her long black hair clung to her shoulders, her skin pale against the dark fabric. Though young, her figure was striking, almost too mature for her age.
Her eyes, however, were void of warmth. They were like obsidian—cold, still, and hollow, as if no light had ever lived within them.
The girl froze. She hadn't expected him to be naked. A faint blush rose to her cheeks, breaking through her icy facade.
And as the hot spring water soaked deeper into her clothes, the dark fabric clung tighter, turning semi-transparent in places, outlining every curve with painful precision.
Despite the danger, Qian Yu chuckled softly. "I didn't expect such a beautiful assassin tonight. I don't recall ever offending you."
The girl scowled, lips pressed into a hard line. "You hurt Dai Mubai."
His expression shifted—just slightly. Recognition flickered in his eyes.
"Ah… that explains it. You must be Zhu Zhuqing."
Her eyes narrowed.
Of course he knew. The tight black suit, her sharp movements, and the name Dai Mubai were all the clues he needed.
In one swift motion, Qian Yu pulled her closer. Water splashed around them as she stumbled forward, now only inches from him. Their breaths mingled, close enough to sense each other's heartbeat.
"Dai Mubai, huh?" he said, locking eyes with her. "Is that bastard really worth all this effort?"
Zhu Zhuqing's voice was flat, emotionless. "I know what he is. A scoundrel. But I don't have a choice."
"Oh?" Qian Yu tilted his head, his tone amused. "And why is that?"
She stiffened, her wrist still trapped in his hand. "Because that's the way things are."
He studied her carefully, then released her.
She looked surprised—almost disappointed. She had prepared herself for something far worse.
"You're Dai Mubai's fiancée, aren't you?" Qian Yu asked, eyes searching hers.
She blinked, stunned. "How do you know that?"
He smiled faintly, like a man who'd solved a simple puzzle. "I know more than just your name. I know why you came to kill me."
Zhu Zhuqing's face turned pale.
"In your world, among your noble families," Qian Yu continued, "it's kill or be killed. You and Dai Mubai were promised to each other at birth, your siblings chosen as the official heirs. If you want to survive, you have to get stronger—together. Strong enough to challenge your brother and your sister. Strong enough to win."
He paused, letting the silence settle in her bones.
"You feared that my injury would break Dai Mubai's spirit. And if he gives up… you both lose. So you came here. Not for revenge. For survival."
Zhu Zhuqing stood frozen, stunned.
How could he possibly know? These weren't things spoken aloud, even within her family. Only those born into the darkness of noble bloodlines could understand such cruelty.
And yet here he was, a stranger, unraveling every secret she'd tried to hide.
She remembered her mother's cold words. Her sister's empty eyes. Her own destiny as a tool passed between noble hands.
No one had ever asked what she wanted.
There had never been a choice.
If she wanted to live, truly live, she would one day have to kill her own sister.
And the bitterest part?
She didn't even know whose fault it was—hers, or the world's.
She hadn't done anything wrong. All she did was be born.
But still... Why did it have to be like this?
Why couldn't she even choose who to love, who to protect?
Qian Yu's voice was softer now, laced with something like sympathy. "You didn't come here because you hate me."
He looked at her—not as an enemy, but as a person trapped in a cage too cruel for someone her age.
"You came here because you're scared."
Zhu Zhuqing's lips trembled. Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Who… who are you?"
And in that quiet, the wind stirred.
The assassin's dagger had fallen into the water.
The hunter had become the hunted.
Or perhaps... something else entirely.
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