As the grip around Shi Jiaojiao’s neck tightened, it grew increasingly forceful, suffocating her and causing intense pain. Instinctively, she strained to rise on her tiptoes to alleviate the pressure. Despite exerting all her strength, all she could manage was a hoarse, gasping “Heh… heh…” Her frail arms clutched at the muscular arm choking her, feebly slapping against it, her efforts utterly futile. Tears slipped down her delicate, porcelain-white cheeks, smearing her perfectly applied makeup, before falling silently onto her pristine wedding gown.
“You said you’d take good care of my mother, didn’t you? Where is she now?” The man’s voice was raspy and low, full of cold rage that, despite its quiet tone, felt like a dousing of icy water, freezing Shi Jiaojiao to her core.
“Heh…” If only I could tell you! But how about letting go first?
Shi Jiaojiao’s face flushed red as her eyes, deprived of oxygen, filled with bloodshot lines. Darkness clouded her vision, and her fingers desperately pried at the man’s fingers, but to him, it felt no stronger than a kitten’s pawing—utterly ineffective.
“Where is my mother?” the man repeated, his voice even colder than before, his words dripping with venom as if he was about to tear someone apart.
At first glance, the man’s handsome features seemed incongruent with his icy voice. Even with his hair cropped so short that it exposed his scalp, his striking appearance demanded attention. However, when one locked eyes with him, they’d notice something chilling—his left eye, marred with patches of deep purple scars, where the sclera was barely visible. His eyes seemed shrouded in a dark fog, utterly devoid of light, giving him a pervasive, oppressive gloom.
Shi Jiaojiao felt her entire body lose strength, her brain deprived of oxygen and her limbs limp. That’s it, I’m done for. I’m not making it this time. She lamented internally. Damn it! This is the fourth time already! The man kept asking, asking, asking—gripping her throat like a chicken’s neck and not letting her scream. Is he even human?!
Just as she was on the verge of resigning herself to death once more, the door suddenly burst open with a loud “Bang!”
A crowd rushed in, led by a man in formal attire, wearing a groom’s boutonniere. He shouted angrily, “Let her go!”
The security guards, armed with electric batons, quickly surrounded the man. He turned to look at them, and at that moment, Shi Jiaojiao finally felt the grip on her throat loosen. Air flooded her lungs as she gasped desperately, clinging to the man’s arm as her body teetered, coughing violently.
“I’ve already called the police! Who are you? Let her go now!” the groom demanded.
“Cough, cough… cough…” Shi Jiaojiao collapsed onto the floor like a discarded rag doll, coughing so hard it tore at her lungs. The man slowly raised his hands in surrender, his work clothes bearing the unmistakable words “Yunshan Prison.” Those who had followed the groom into the room, all dressed in their finest, recoiled in shock at the sight of him.
“Oh my god! Did you see that? He has ‘Prison’ printed on his clothes!”
“Is he a fugitive? Quick, call the police…”
“Who is he? Why did he come here and go straight for the bride…”
Whispers rippled through the room as the security guards quickly subdued the intruder. The groom rushed over, crouching down to help Shi Jiaojiao, who lay limp on the ground, his face full of concern. “Jiaojiao, are you okay?”
Which part of me looks okay to you?!
Shi Jiaojiao wiped the tears and false eyelashes smeared across her face, pushed the groom’s hand away without even looking at him, and dragged her cumbersome wedding gown toward the man who had almost choked her to death.
Her neck still ached terribly, but she crawled to the man restrained by the guards, sobbing as she clung to his leg, leaning her head and body weight against the very man who had assaulted her moments ago. She looked up at the guards, her voice hoarse, and rasped, “Let him go…”
The room fell into an eerie silence, everyone utterly bewildered by Shi Jiaojiao’s actions, even the man whose hands were pinned. He lowered his gaze, examining her with cold, dark eyes, surprised to see the pitiful figure clutching his leg.
The silence was soon shattered by a chorus of gasps, and the groom, who had been pushed aside earlier, shouted in disbelief, “Jiaojiao!”
Two young women from the crowd approached cautiously but stopped short, too terrified of the menacing man to get any closer. They softly urged Shi Jiaojiao to step away, but she ignored them. She looked up at the man, her expression intentionally frail and pitiful. Her once-pristine makeup had smudged, her hair disheveled and wet with tears clinging to her temples. She bit her lip ever so slightly, presenting an image of extreme vulnerability.
For Shi Jiaojiao, this man’s leg was her lifeline now. She couldn’t afford to let go, not even for a second, or she might not live through it again.
“Take me with you,” Shi Jiaojiao croaked. “I’ll help you find your mother.”
The guards, unsure of what to do with this bizarre turn of events, hesitated, but they eventually released their grip on the man. He slowly stretched his arms, casting a glance at Shi Jiaojiao in her wedding gown before turning his gaze to the groom, who was still staring in shock. Then, with a firm grip on the back of her neck, the man hauled Shi Jiaojiao to her feet and began dragging her toward the exit.
The crowd parted instinctively as they walked, too stunned to intervene. Shi Jiaojiao stumbled along, dragged like a helpless puppy, still clutching the man’s arm, her wedding dress trailing dirt behind her.
Behind them, the groom’s face twisted with humiliation and rage as he watched the man walk out with his bride. His muscles tensed as he glanced around the room at the equally shocked guests. He knew that if he allowed this fugitive to leave with his bride, he would become the laughingstock of Yunshan City.
He stormed over to the security guard, grabbed an electric baton, and activated it, charging toward the door.
Shi Jiaojiao had anticipated this. As the groom swung the baton, she spun around and shoved the man aside, spreading her arms wide to shield him.
The electric shock hurt, but after four times, she’d gotten used to it.
The groom immediately tried to divert the blow, but the baton still grazed her shoulder, sending a sharp jolt through her body. She shuddered and collapsed onto the floor.
“Jiaojiao!” The groom tossed the baton aside and rushed to help her up, but Shi Jiaojiao quickly recovered and snatched the baton from him.
“Stay back,” she said coldly, aiming the baton at him.
The groom stood frozen in disbelief, veins bulging at his temples.
Shi Jiaojiao used the baton to prop herself up, spreading her arms protectively like a frail chick defending its eagle, positioning herself between the man and the crowd. She faced the groom, the guards, and the guests. “Don’t follow. I’m leaving with him. The wedding is off.”
With that, she cast a sideways glance at the man, trying to appear as submissive and endearing as possible. “Let’s go,” she said softly.
The man was unmoved by her gesture, turning to descend the steps. Shi Jiaojiao, now holding the baton, hurried after him, stumbling along in her torn wedding gown, her veil long gone.
The crowd didn’t dare follow. Shi Jiaojiao trailed after the man, her gown filthy and her makeup ruined, looking like a Cinderella who’d been tossed out of the ball at midnight.
The man led them down a dark, secluded path. The ground was rough with small stones, and Shi Jiaojiao winced in pain with every step, too terrified to complain, fearing that one wrong word would lead him to snap her neck again, forcing her to restart from scratch.
She had already died three times, but now she remembered where she was—this was a world she had created herself. Years ago, she had written this story, though the title eluded her now. As a prolific web novelist who specialized in melodramatic and tragic plots, she had churned out hundreds of thousands of words a year. Who could keep track of every little thing they wrote?
It was a tragic irony. One day, after spilling soda on her keyboard, she had been electrocuted and transported into a bizarre system designed to satisfy the grievances of her readers. The system demanded that she resolve the misery of her most tormented characters before she could return home.
Unfortunately, as a writer of heart-wrenching tales, she had created countless miserable characters, each more tragic than the last. After trying—and failing—to escape through death multiple times, she had no choice but to accept her fate.
This particular character was her task. His name was Zhuo Wenshu, and he had just been released from prison. The storyline was riddled with dramatic flaws—full of plot holes she had written purely for shock value. Shi Jiaojiao’s character had blinded him in one eye, framed him for a crime, and left him to rot in prison for five years.