Qiao Yu gathered the money, and with her violin case in hand, drifted unsteadily to the door of the private room. Bo Hanshi didn’t spare her a glance. His gaze fixed forward, he tilted his head back and drained his glass of champagne in a single swallow. "One more thing," he said, his voice glacial. "That silver ring on your neck, Ms. Qiao. It’s an eyesore." Qiao Yu stood frozen at the door, her back to him. Her hand instinctively went to her neck, her fingers closing around the plain silver ring strung on a thin chain. It was part of a matching set he had bought for them six years ago. Made of silver, it was worthless, but Qiao Yu had always treasured it. "I’m used to it," she said. "You gave this ring to me six years ago, which makes it mine. And whether I choose to wear my own property should be no concern of yours, Mr. Bo." Besides, it was a gift from the Bo Hanshi of six years ago—the one who used to cradle her in the palm of his hand. Selfishly, she wanted to preserve that single sliver of a beautiful memory, even though it was the very thing that twisted like a knife in her heart during the lonely nights. But for once, possessed by a stubborn madness, she chose to be obstinate. Her defiance seemed to ignite his fury. "Get out." Qiao Yu left. The wine glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Rich champagne mixed with crimson blood from his palm, dripping, one drop at a time, onto the floor. Lu Zhilv and Jiang Yuchuan both jumped, shocked that Qiao Yu’s brief appearance could provoke such a violent reaction from Bo Hanshi. "Hanshi, my fault tonight. I didn't think it through," Lu Zhilv said quickly. In the dim light, the man stared coldly at the blood dripping from his palm, the corners of his eyes bloodshot. He let out a chilling sneer. "This was your surprise? How... uninspired." "I'm sorry. It was my oversight," Jiang Yuchuan added. Though he and Bo Hanshi were brothers in arms, Bo Hanshi was still his superior. Over the years, Bo Hanshi had grown increasingly inscrutable, his moods impossible to predict. Even Jiang Yuchuan didn't dare to cross him. "Don't act on your own again. Especially not when it comes to Qiao Yu," Bo Hanshi commanded. Jiang Yuchuan could only nod in agreement. After all, this was a personal vendetta between them, and it was best for others not to interfere. As Bo Hanshi’s figure disappeared out the door, Lu Zhilv slung an arm around Jiang Yuchuan's shoulders. "Chuan'er, you're usually the sharp one. What made you so dense tonight?" "I thought that after six years, Hanshi would have moved on. They were the golden couple of Didu University back then. I don't want him to live consumed by hatred. In these six years, he hasn't just grown distant from Qiao Yu; he's drifted away from us, too." Lu Zhilv scoffed, a teasing glint in his eye. "Hanshi's always been the quiet, brooding type. A man of few words. But what’s strange is, what is Qiao Yu doing singing in a place like this?" "A month ago, Hanshi had someone call Didu TV, and Qiao Yu was fired without cause. She was the star of the Broadcasting and Hosting department, you know. For Hanshi to just cut her career off at the knees... don't you think that’s going a little too far?" "Tsk, listen to you, feeling sorry for Qiao Yu! Chuan'er, has she bewitched you too? Be careful. Getting close to that jinx of a woman is a one-way ticket to prison." Jiang Yuchuan grabbed his suit jacket, ready to leave. "I would never go after a brother's woman." "Then stop defending her! Have you forgotten how much he suffered in there? It was all because of her!" Jiang Yuchuan nodded grimly. "I remember." The worst of it was when Bo Hanshi was stabbed in prison. The blade missed his heart by less than an inch. He almost died. ... Qiao Yu didn't know how she made it home. She stumbled through the streets in a daze, stopping several times to throw up before she felt even remotely human again. She passed by a pharmacy and bought something for the alcohol and an anti-allergy medication, swallowing them dry. By the time she reached her apartment, the rash on her skin had started to fade, but the stench of cheap alcohol clung to her, impossible to mask. The lights were still on inside. She set down her bag and slipped into her slippers, but Xiangsi didn't come running into her arms as she usually did. "Xiangsi?" No answer. Was she asleep? Qiao Yu walked into the bedroom and saw her immediately. Xiangsi was curled up on the bed, her small face ghostly pale, her mouth open as she struggled to breathe. Qiao Yu's heart stopped. She rushed to the bedside. "Xiangsi, what's wrong?" "Mama... I don't feel good... my chest hurts..." The child's voice was so weak it was barely a whisper. "Mama's taking you to the hospital right now! Xiangsi, just hold on!" Qiao Yu called for an ambulance immediately, then scooped Xiangsi onto her back and bolted down the stairs. Outside, the sky had turned violent. A torrential downpour raged in the dead of night. The ambulance hadn't arrived yet. With no time to waste, Qiao Yu ran out onto the road, trying to flag down any car she could, her daughter on her back. The child on her back whimpered, "Mama, am I going to die? It hurts so much..." Tears streamed down Qiao Yu's face. "No, you're not! Just hold on, Xiangsi! Mama's taking you to the hospital! Don't fall asleep, stay with me! Xiangsi..." But the child on her back had gone silent. Qiao Yu held her daughter with one arm and waved desperately with the other. "Stop! Please, stop! There's a child here, she's unconscious! She needs a doctor!" "Please! I'm begging you, take us to the hospital! Save my daughter..." But in the pouring rain, car after car sped past, unwilling to stop for the desperate scene. Just as she turned, a black Maybach with the license plate JING A99999 tore through the curtain of rain, its wheels churning through a puddle and splashing muddy water all over her. She instinctively threw up an arm to shield herself. Tears mixed with rain on her mud-splattered face. ... Inside the black Maybach, the assistant, Xu Zheng, glanced in the rearview mirror. He saw a young mother with a child on her back, trying to flag down a car in the rain. He felt a pang of sympathy. "Mr. Bo," he ventured, "that mother and child back there are trying to get a ride. The kid looks sick. With this rain... should we give them a lift?" The man in the back seat, his features cold and sharp, showed no trace of emotion. "Pity is the most useless of emotions." The implication was clear: mind your own business. The Bo Hanshi of six years ago might have felt pity. But now, that man was gone, utterly consumed by a monstrous hatred. Just then, an ambulance arrived. Qiao Yu scrambled inside with her child. The black Maybach drove on, getting farther away. Bo Hanshi frowned, a flicker of something crossing his face as he glanced back. But the white ambulance had already vanished into the blurry curtain of rain. It had to be a trick of the light. There was no way that could have been Qiao Yu. The man lowered his gaze, staring at the silver ring on his own finger. The storm in his eyes refused to settle. The white ambulance and the black Maybach drove off in opposite directions, one heading south, the other north, growing ever more distant. Just as the Bo Hanshi of today was on a path directly opposite to the man he had been six years ago.