Author's Note
This novel is an original work of fiction created by me and all rights are reserved.
Written under the pen name---- Praisechan18
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"Let go of me, you bastard!" Xia Yingying's voice ripped through the salty air, raw with fury. She writhed against Tang Qing's iron grip, her fingers itching to claw out his eyes. The gymnasium she'd cherished since high school – a sanctuary – had become her execution ground. This man, her supposed fiancé, was her murderer.
He'd already stolen her father, callously disconnecting the oxygen tank that sustained him. Her mother's heart, shattered by grief, had simply stopped. And her brother, her protector Xia Fujian, was deliberately isolated abroad, Tang Qing severing every lifeline, leaving her existence bleaker than a slave's.
"Hehe..." Tang Qing's laugh was a chilling, manic sound, devoid of sanity, filled only with a hatred she couldn't fathom. It radiated from him like a physical force.
"Why?" she choked out, the wind whipping her hair across her face. "Why did you kill Grandpa?" The accusation was a desperate scream against the roar of the ocean below. He'd manipulated her frail grandfather, using promises of safeguarding her as his fiancé to swindle the family fortune into his own name. Despicable.
"Brother Tang" a tremulous voice interjected. Hu Mingyou emerged, maneuvering her wheelchair with aggrieved delicacy. "Perhaps... perhaps just take her far away? Don't... don't kill Yingying." Her plea sounded hollow, and her eyes, flickering with something complex and unreadable, quickly shuttered into practiced sorrow. A sob hitched in her throat. "Sob... wu wu..." She wept softly, the picture of fragile victimhood, as if 'she' were the one facing annihilation.
Xia Yingying watched them, a cold numbness settling over her rage. Her fiancé. Her 'best friend'. Performing their twisted duet of betrayal.
"Youyou, don't cry," Tang Qing murmured, his voice dripping with a tenderness reserved solely for the woman in the chair. "Brother Tang is here, okay?" He stroked Hu Mingyou's hair, and his glare at Xia Yingying intensified. 'She' was the monster who had put his precious Youyou in that wheelchair – the lie he clung to with fanatical devotion.
Xia Yingying met Hu Mingyou's gaze, her own devoid of illusion. She knew the paralysis was a sham. As if on cue, Hu Mingyou shifted, attempting to rise. Her legs trembled theatrically.
"Youyou, stay put!" Tang Qing commanded, gentle but firm. "You're not healed. The doctor said the baby is still unstable." His hand pressed her shoulder back into the chair.
"Baby?" The word was a fresh knife wound. Hu Mingyou turned her head slightly, a fleeting smirk twisting her lips before dissolving into wide-eyed concern as she looked back at Tang Qing.
Xia Yingying scanned the desolate cliff edge – the churning ocean below, the empty expanse behind. No escape. Above, bruised clouds gathered, promising a storm. She braced herself, but not for Hu Mingyou's next move.
With a sudden, calculated lurch disguised as unsteadiness, Hu Mingyou shoved her hard. Xia Yingying stumbled backward, balance lost, the world tilting. She plunged towards the icy embrace of the sea.
Their voices reached her as she fell, distorted by wind and distance:
"Ahhhh! I didn't mean to! Yingying slipped when I tried to steady myself!" Hu Mingyou's cry was pure, manufactured panic.
"Let her be," Tang Qing's voice cut through, cold and final. "She was going to die anyway."
Through the spray, Xia Yingying saw the triumphant smile bloom on Hu Mingyou's face, instantly masked as she turned back to Tang Qing.
Darkness. Cold. Silence. Death. A final, searing vow ignited in her dissolving consciousness: "If I ever get the chance... I will repay you both. A fate worse than death."
***CRACK!***
A deafening thunderclap ripped through the void. Then... light. Not the cold grey of the sea, but the warm, soft glow of a bedside lamp. Xia Yingying blinked, her vision swimming. Red silk curtains. Familiar floral wallpaper. 'Her old bedroom?'
"Xiao Ying? You're awake!" Her mother's face swam into focus, leaning close, relief softening the deep worry etched around her eyes. A gentle hand brushed her cheek.
Her mom was alive and healthy. Tears welled, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down her temples into her hairline. The memory slammed into her: starving herself for days because Tang Qing hadn't called, collapsing, the frantic rush to the hospital... This was the day she'd fainted from despair.
"Mom..." The word scraped her throat, raw with emotion.
"I'm here, baby. Shhh, don't cry" her mother soothed, her own voice thick with unshed tears.
The door opened. Her father, a distinguished figure even in simple home clothes, entered carrying a steaming bowl of soup. His eyes, usually sharp with business acumen, were soft with paternal concern.
"Dad..." The name was a prayer.
"Drink this, Xiao Ying" he said, his voice a comforting rumble. "It will help." He carefully supported her head as she obediently sipped the warm, savory broth, draining it quickly. The simple act felt like a lifeline.
Her parents exchanged a look of profound love and shared anxiety over her.
"Where... where's Big Brother?" she asked, her voice still hoarse but clearer.
"Ah... Fujian," her father sighed, placing the empty bowl aside. "He left for the airport early this morning. He desperately wanted to see you, but his friends were already waiting. He left this for you." He handed her a thick cream envelope and a sleek, velvet-lined gift box.
Her fingers trembled as she opened the envelope.
"My Dearest Yingying,
By the time you read this, I'll be airport for Country F. I pray you wake strong and well. I couldn't leave without saying this: I have grave concerns about Tang Qing. As your brother, it's my duty to protect you, even when it means saying things you might not want to hear. Trust your family's instincts, little sister. We only want your happiness and safety.
Study hard. Be well. I'll call as soon as I land.
All my love,
Big Brother Fujian"
Tears blurred the elegant script. Slowly, deliberately, she wiped them away. A steely resolve began to crystallize within the remnants of grief and confusion. She pushed back the covers and walked to her ornate jewelry box. With steady hands, she removed the glittering, expensive trinkets – symbols of a shallow past life. She placed her brother's precious letter inside instead.
Her mother approached, holding out the gift box. Inside, nestled on black velvet, was a watch. It was breathtakingly elegant, its platinum casing catching the light, the face a masterpiece of minimalist design. Xia Yingying recognized true luxury. Eight hundred thousand yuan. A fortune worn on the wrist, and a tangible reminder of her brother's unwavering love and foresight.
She clasped the cool metal band around her wrist. The weight was comforting, anchoring. She met her parents' loving gazes, a silent, volcanic promise hardening in her heart.
'This time, I will protect you all. Tang Qing, Hu Mingyou... prepare for hell.'