The night had settled over Yunxi Town as Yan Luo ambled home from the internet cafe. A man burst from a darkened alley, colliding with her so suddenly she had no time to react. Before she could regain her balance, a hand clamped onto her arm, yanking her back into the shadows. "Don't move," a man's voice, low and magnetic, rumbled near her ear. Something cold and sharp pressed against her waist—a knife. In the gloom, a dangerous glint sparked in Yan Luo's beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. Sounds of a frantic search echoed from the street. "Where'd he go? He's wounded, can't have gotten far! Check the area!" The blade slid from her waist, its icy edge coming to rest against her throat. "Make a noise," the man rasped. Yan Luo stared into the darkness, bewildered. "I need a distraction," he pressed. "Make some noise, or I'll silence you for good." As the footsteps drew closer, the blade bit into her skin. Realizing he wasn't bluffing, Yan Luo narrowed her eyes. Then, pitching her voice into a breathy, theatrical moan, she began. "Oh… ah… darling, please don't…" She followed it up, louder this time. "Ah, honey, can't we just go home? We're out in the open here!" It worked. The pursuers, apparently deciding they’d stumbled upon a private moment, retreated. Once their footsteps faded, the man’s low voice returned. "Get me somewhere safe. Find me a doctor. I'll pay you anything you want." The metallic tang of blood hung in the air. Yan Luo let out a short, sharp laugh. The irony was rich: the man who’d held a knife to her throat was now begging for her help. "Sure," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "On two conditions. You beg. And you apologize for your little performance earlier." *Beg her?* The audacity of this woman! Fu Xiangchen’s expression darkened. He raised the knife to threaten her again, but in a blur of motion, Yan Luo twisted his wrist, disarming him with startling ease. The next instant, he was slammed against the wall, the point of his own blade now pressed against him. Weakened by his injuries, Fu Xiangchen was completely powerless. "You'll regret crossing me, woman…" His words trailed off as the last of his strength gave out, and he slumped into unconsciousness. Yan Luo’s lips twitched in annoyance. *He fainted?* Just as she was about to leave him there, she got her first clear look at his face and froze. *Damn… he was gorgeous.* Yan Luo, a connoisseur of beauty, found herself conflicted. *Ah, what the hell,* she thought. *Guess it’s his lucky day. A face like that would be a terrible thing to waste.* After patching up his wound, Yan Luo frowned. She had an appreciation for beauty, true, but her love for money ran deeper. She’d just saved his life, after all. Surely that was worth something. A quick search of his pockets revealed only one item of value: a pink crystal necklace. The craftsmanship was exquisite. A smile touched Yan Luo’s lips. *Payment for services rendered,* she decided, pocketing it. … The next morning, Fu Xiangchen was jolted awake by a nauseating stench. He slowly blinked his eyes open, his vision clearing to reveal the grimy, dilapidated interior of… a public restroom. *That woman… she dumped me here?!* For a man with a crippling obsession with cleanliness, this was a living nightmare. Fu Xiangchen wanted to find Yan Luo and tear her limb from limb. Stumbling outside, Fu Xiangchen patted himself down and realized the necklace he always kept with him was gone. His eyes went cold. Just then, several men in black business suits hurried toward him. "Sir, we're sorry we're late. Please forgive us." "Find the woman from last night," Fu Xiangchen snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "And bring me her head." His face was a thundercloud. He’d been passing through the area on business yesterday when he was ambushed by rivals. He could tell his wound had been crudely treated, but for that woman to leave him in a place like this—and to steal his necklace—was unforgivable. His men exchanged bewildered glances. *What woman?*