Dark Room…
The first thing Guo Min registered was the cold bite of metal beneath her wrists. Her hands were tied behind her, strapped tightly to a wheelchair she didn't remember being placed in. The room was pitch-black behind her blindfold, but her hearing sharpened like a blade.
She could hear them. Footsteps. Breathing. A low hum of men who felt too comfortable in the dark.
"Boss, what's the next move?" one of them asked, nervous, young, trying to hide it.
A pause.
Then a voice answered. Deep. Calm. Deadly. "Bring her here."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. The voice was cold in a way even Zihan had never been, controlled, yes, but with a strange undercurrent. Something like a storm waiting for the signal to unleash hell.
Guo Min's spine stiffened. She had survived enough to recognize danger simply by the way it breathed.
Rough hands grabbed the wheelchair, rolling her forward. She could feel the eyes on her, crawling along her skin like venomous insects. When they tore off the blindfold, white light stabbed her vision.
And then she saw him.
Sitting casually on a wooden chair like a king on a misplaced throne. Black suit. Sharp jawline. Eyes like something carved out of winter.
He tilted his head.
"…She's beautiful," he murmured with an amused chuckle, studying her like she was an expensive painting he was deciding whether to ruin.
Guo Min's breath steadied. Her fear, though cold, was forced deep behind her controlled mask.
"…Who are you?" she asked, voice firm despite the situation.
The man smiled, slowly, knowingly. "You don't need to know that, Guo Min."
Her heart dropped. He knew her name.
"What do you want? How do you know who I am?" she pushed, her instinct sharpening. If she kept him talking, she could think.
He didn't answer. Instead, he stood, walking toward her with lazy, unhurried steps...the kind men take when they know no one in the room can stop them.
He leaned down until their faces were inches apart, his shadow swallowing hers whole. He lifted her chin between his cold fingers and held her still.
Then, without warning... he bent down and bit the side of her neck.
Hard. Sharp pain burst through her skin, warmth trickling down her collarbone. She inhaled sharply, trying to jerk away but her restraints held her in place.
"Fuck!" she hissed, fury overtaking shock. He licked the blood from his lips and smirked. "What? Isn't that how your husband does it?"
"FUCK you!" she spat without hesitation, her voice echoing off the concrete walls.
He only laughed.
"Oh, the idea is tempting," he sneered, turning away, "but that's not why I'm here today."
"Utsukushii na". He whispered but still flicked his fingers without looking at his men. "Push her to the cliff."
Two goons immediately grabbed the wheelchair and rolled her outside. The night wind slapped her face, carrying the smell of wet soil and open darkness.
They stopped only meters from the edge.
Guo Min felt the uneven ground beneath the wheels. Heard the distant roar of unseen waves crashing far, far below. Her heartbeat hammered so hard it rattled her ribs.
The man sauntered toward her, hands in his pockets, as if he were simply walking across a garden.
As soon as he reached her...
he kicked the wheelchair.
Hard.
The world tilted...
Guo Min screamed...
the chair lurched...
But then...
It stopped.
Teetering.
Three wheels clung to the ground.
One dangled over the abyss. The slightest shift, the smallest breath, would send her plummeting.
She forced her eyes open, chest heaving, adrenaline burning her veins.
He stood a few feet away, smirking as though watching an animal struggle.
He lifted his hand in a lazy wave.
"Try not to fall," he said lightly. "Do enjoy your night, Mrs. Zhu."
He turned his back on her and walked away.
Leaving her hanging between life and the endless black void below.
The wind lashed against Guo Min's cheeks as the chair trembled under her. One wheel hung over the void, only three thin points of contact keeping her alive.
Below her, the river roared like an open mouth ready to swallow her whole.
She forced herself to look down and instantly regretted it.
A dizzying drop.
Black water smashed violently against jagged rocks. Her stomach flipped, and her breath caught in her throat.
She let out a shaky, miserable chuckle. "...Is this really it?" she whispered under her breath, the sound half-laugh, half-sob.
Her wrists throbbed painfully from the rope burns. Tied behind her, useless.
She couldn't stabilize herself.
She couldn't push the chair back.
She couldn't even grab something if she fell.
Her only options were, stay still... Or die.
The reality hit her so hard her chest clenched.
She tilted her head, scanning her surroundings.
Left... darkness.
Right... darkness.
Behind her, nothing but the silent cliff and an empty path where her captors had vanished.
"…Hell," she murmured, her throat burning. "This is actual hell." She tried again, turning her head.
The wheelchair jolted.
"H... HEY!"
Her scream ripped out of her as the chair slid forward a few centimeters.
Her pulse shot up until she felt it pounding in her ears. A cold sweat broke across her back.
"Don't move… Don't move… Don't move…" she whispered to herself, forcing her body to freeze.
The chair creaked.
She shut her eyes tightly, breathing hard through her nose.
This wasn't fear.
This wasn't anxiety.
This was terror in its purest form.
Her life was balancing on three small wheels.
Her mind raced, desperately trying to calculate anything she could do.
If she could twist her hips
Or shift her weight backward
But with her hands tied, the momentum might push the chair even further.
One wrong angle, one wrong movement, even a gust of strong wind... and she would die.
Her throat tightened, tears stinging her eyes.
But she forced them back.
She couldn't break down. Not now. Not here.
"Zihan…"
The name escaped her lips before she could stop it.
She had no idea where he was.
She had no idea if he was coming.
All she knew was that she was alone.
Suspended between life and death.
And every second the chair creaked under her weight, she felt the cliff slowly eroding beneath the wheels.
Guo Min swallowed hard.
"Please…" she breathed to no one, to the universe, to hope itself. "Please hurry."
Her voice trembled.
Another faint jerk shook the wheelchair.
She gasped
and the night swallowed her cry whole.
Zihan drove like the devil himself was sitting in the backseat.
The tires screamed against the asphalt as he tore through the highway, eyes sharp, jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed along his temple. His phone was still in his hand, the message that shattered his entire world burned into his mind.
The closer he got to the GPS location, the darker the roads became. Streetlights disappeared. The air turned cold. The trees stood like dark sentinels on either side. Even the moon seemed to hide behind clouds.
The moment he reached the path leading to the cliff, he slammed the brakes so hard the car fishtailed before stopping.
Zihan stepped out... no, launched out of the car.
He turned to his guards that followed him. "Spread out and find her". He yelled and everyone dispersed. Until a few minutes later that one called out to him. "Boss!".
Zihan rushed towards him. "Where?". His voice was a bladecold, precise, lethal.
One guard swallowed hard and pointed toward the cliffside.
Zihan's heartbeat, already violent, spiked.
He ran.
Rocks slid under his shoes as he sprinted across the uneven ground. The cold wind blasted his face, but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything except the instinct tearing him apart from the inside.
Find her.
Find her now.
Then... He froze. His pupils shrank. His breath died in his throat. Because under the pale moonlight, at the far edge of the cliff... A wheelchair. And a woman sitting in it.
His woman.
Her hair blown wildly by the night wind, her body trembling, wrists bound behind her, the chair tilted dangerously, one wheel floating over the abyss.
Zihan's chest constricted so violently he almost staggered. "…Min'er?"
It was barely a whisper.
A broken sound.
Then he moved.
But the moment she turned to look at him, the chair jerked slightly. Which makes her scream carried through the air.
Zihan froze again... this time from raw fear. Fear he had never felt in his life. His voice dropped, deeper than thunder but trembling with restraint.
"Don't move… Min, don't move. I'm here."
His eyes never left her. Not for a single second.
"Stay with me," he said, voice hoarse, cracking around the edges. "Don't look down. Don't turn. Just breathe."