The alley finally emptied.
Police lights faded into the distance, their echoes swallowed by the night. Commander Yan spoke briefly with the officers, his posture calm, controlled—already cleaning up the aftermath.
Zihan stood a few steps away.
His eyes were fixed on Meilin's hand.
Blood had dried along her knuckles, thin red lines tracing where the blade had grazed her skin. Not deep—but enough.
Too much.
He didn't realize how long he'd been staring until she shifted slightly.
"It's fine," she said quietly.
He didn't answer.
Xu Feng approached, dusting off his jacket, relief obvious on his face. "I'll head back first," he told Zihan. "Sumin's alone at home."
Zihan nodded. "Be careful."
Xu Feng turned to Meilin, bowed his head slightly—awkward but sincere."Thank you. For today. Really."
She smiled faintly. "You're welcome."
Xu Feng hesitated, then added, "Take care of him."
And with that, he left—his footsteps fading into the dark.
—
The street felt larger with just the two of them.
No cars.No voices.Only the distant hum of the city and the sound of their steps.
They walked toward Capital University in silence.
Zihan stopped suddenly.
"Wait."
She turned, confused, as he crossed the road and pushed open the door of a small, dimly lit pharmacy. A few minutes later, he returned with a plastic bag.
Plasters.Antiseptic.Gauze.
He gestured toward a low wall. "Sit."
She obeyed.
He crouched in front of her, unscrewing the antiseptic without a word.
When his fingers gently wiped the dried blood from her skin—
She flinched.
"Sorry," he said immediately, his voice lower than before.
"It doesn't hurt," she replied.
But her fingers curled slightly, betraying her.
He worked carefully, methodically, as if afraid she might disappear if he moved too fast.
The streetlight caught his face—focused, quiet, serious.
She watched him in silence.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then—
Grrr.
The sound was unmistakable.
Her stomach.
She froze.
His head lifted slowly.
Their eyes met.
For half a second, embarrassment flickered across her face—then she looked away.
"…You didn't eat," he said.
She didn't deny it.
He stood. "Come. Let's get dinner."
—
They walked two streets down to a small, unremarkable restaurant.
The kind of place students frequented.Simple tables.Faded menu on the wall.
"This place…" he hesitated. "I eat here often. It's not fancy."
"I don't mind," she said softly.
He ordered without asking.
Steamed dumplings.Braised pork belly.Egg-fried rice.Stir-fried greens with garlic.Hot and sour soup.
The food arrived quickly.
She stared at it for a second.
Then—she ate.
Not delicately.Not restrained.
She devoured it.
even he enjoyed eating with her , he never had such appetite before.
For the first time that night, tension drained from her shoulders. Color returned to her face. By the time she set down her chopsticks, she was smiling—bright, unguarded.
"Thank you," she said. "It was really good."
Something warm spread quietly through his chest.
He stood and went to the counter.
When she reached for her wallet, it was already done.
She paused, fingers tightening.
I shouldn't have tried to pay, she thought.if i hurt his pride.
She said nothing.
They stepped back into the night.
The night had settled into something deceptively calm.
Streetlights stretched their pale glow across the pavement, their shadows long and uneven. Meilin walked beside him, still warmed by the food, by the fragile sense that tonight had been… different.
She didn't notice when he slowed.
He stopped.
She took two more steps before realizing he wasn't beside her anymore.
Turning back, she met his gaze.
His face had hardened—closed off, as if something inside him had snapped back into place.
"…I'm bad luck to you," Zihan said.
Her smile faltered.
"When you meet me," he continued, voice low, controlled, "you get hurt. Again and again."
He looked away, jaw tightening.
"So… there's no need for us to meet anymore."
Her breath caught.
"Don't meet me again," he said flatly.
The words fell like cold water.
Before she could speak—before she could even gather her thoughts—he stepped back.
"Reach home safely," he added.
Then he turned.
And walked away.
No hesitation.No looking back.
His footsteps faded into the night, swallowed by darkness.
—
Tang Meilin didn't move.
Her body felt frozen, as if the world had paused around her.
Don't meet me again.
The words echoed over and over in her mind.
Her chest tightened.
She wanted to chase after him.Wanted to explain.Wanted to say you're not my bad luck—you're the reason I'm still here.
But her feet wouldn't move.
By the time she finally blinked—
He was gone.
"Ms. Tang."
Commander Yan's voice cut through the silence.
She didn't respond.
He stepped closer. "Ms. Tang… if you stand here any longer, it'll get cold."
That was when reality came rushing back.
She exhaled shakily.
Her fingers curled slowly into her palm.
"…He's already gone," she murmured.
Yan followed her gaze, then nodded. "Yes."
She took out her phone.
Her hands were steady—but only because she forced them to be.
She dialed a familiar number.
"Grandpa," she said when the call connected. "It's me."
There was warmth on the other end, but she didn't linger on it.
"I need you to make sure security is set up around someone," she continued calmly. "Discreetly. No interference. Just protection."
A pause.
"Yes," she said. "It's important."
She ended the call.
Lowered the phone.
The street felt emptier now.
"Let's go back," she said quietly.
Commander Yan opened the car door for her.
As the vehicle pulled away, Tang Meilin leaned back against the seat, eyes closing for just a second.
You can push me away, she thought.But I won't stop protecting you.
Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of gold.
And somewhere in the night—
Xie Zihan walked home alone, unaware that even now, someone was guarding his steps from the shadows.