"Han Chuan… I didn't mean to, Han Chuan, you have to believe me." Inside the villa, Xiang Wan knelt on the floor, her face a shade whiter than the porcelain vase on the table. The lights were off. She couldn't make out the expression on the man in the sofa, only the faint glow of the cigarette between his fingers, a tiny ember that slowly faded into nothing. It felt like waiting for a death sentence, a suspense that coiled tighter in her gut. She lowered her head, staring blankly at her fingers. They were still stained with Jiang Qingran's blood, long since dried, but now serving as damning evidence of her crime. She didn't know how much time had passed before he finally rose, his tall, slender silhouette approaching her through the gloom. "Xiang Wan, there's a price to pay for your mistakes. Qingran’s leg was saved, but she'll never dance again. And you... what right do you have to be perfectly fine?" His tone was chilling, sending a jolt of fear through her. By the moonlight spilling into the room, she could just make out the man weighing a golf club in his hand. "I told you, if you behaved, I would marry you. But why did you have to go looking for trouble and provoke Qingran? Hmm?" The moment he finished speaking, the club swung down, smashing into the porcelain vase beside her. "Ah!" He’d put all his strength into the blow. The vase shattered, shards of porcelain slicing into her leg, and a scream tore from her throat. "Han Chuan... I didn't..." Terrified, she tried to shuffle backward, but her legs were useless, leaving her frozen on the floor. The man tossed aside the now-bent golf club, his cold eyes taking in her pathetic, broken form. "Xiang Wan, I'm letting you live. But remember this: we are not done." She hugged herself tightly, trembling like a leaf. The world dissolved into darkness. Just before she blacked out, she vaguely saw him pick up his phone and dial. "Tell the Xiang family that Xiang Wan is being held for attempted murder. They can choose to save her, or they can save the Xiang Corporation. It's up to them." Xiang Wan managed a faint smile. So tired. If I just died like this, would everyone finally be happy? Two years later— In the dead of winter, B City saw its first snow of the season. The gates of the detention center in the eastern suburbs creaked open early in the morning. A gaunt woman walked out from inside. With a noticeable limp, she moved slowly. Snowflakes drifted down. The woman tilted her head up, and if one could look past the scars that littered her face—some faint, some deep—they would see that it was a young, delicate face. In weather like this, the buses ran infrequently. After waiting in the biting wind for over an hour, she clutched at her thin chiffon blouse and frowned, the crescent-shaped scar at the corner of her eyebrow creasing with the motion. It had been spring when she went in. She never thought she’d be coming out in the middle of winter. She stood beneath the bus stop sign, gazing blankly back at the detention center that had been her cage for two years. Eight large characters were painted on its whitewashed walls: “Reform and Start Anew.” Suddenly, she couldn't help but laugh. Does anyone who comes out of a place like this ever get a chance to start anew? Lost in her cold, scattered thoughts, she was startled when a bus emerged from the snowstorm, breaking her reverie. She rubbed her aching leg and climbed aboard. All she had was an outdated old phone and a dozen or so bucks in change that a kind guard had pressed into her hand. She dropped the coins in and took a seat obediently in the back. This was the only route that ran from the city center to the detention center, and Xiang Wan was the sole passenger. All the way, she pressed her face to the window, drinking in the sights as if she could never get enough. In just two years, the city had changed so much. Bang! The bus jolted violently, slamming Xiang Wan’s forehead against the glass. A dull pain bloomed. What happened? She was rubbing her head, still trying to see what was going on outside, when she was yanked to her feet by a powerful force.