Chapter 57: PAST-FIFTEEN.
⚠️ Content Warning: This scene contains graphic violence, emotional distress, strong language, blood-related imagery, and references to trauma.
The alley breathed shadows, a tight corridor of peeling brick walls and flickering lights. A single streetlamp buzzed above, casting a crooked halo on the damp concrete. The silence was heavy, stretched tight like a wire on the verge of snapping.
Zhao Mingyu stepped into the alley, his sneakers crunching against gravel. A cigarette hung from his lips, unlit. He had that usual cocky grin on—chin tilted high, hands in his pockets like he owned the night.
But his steps slowed.
There was no one there.
He pulled out his phone, thumb dancing over the screen. "Where the hell are they?" he muttered under his breath, holding it to his ear. One ring. Two. No answer.
A sudden chill crawled up his spine.
And then, she stepped out from the shadows.
Hua Rong.
Her face was unreadable. Her hair was slightly messy, her white blouse speckled with red. The knife in her hand gleamed under the streetlamp—its blade still slick with blood.
Zhao blinked. It took him a full second to register her.