Shi Jiaojiao’s ramblings failed to move Zhuo Wenshu, but her sudden embrace caught him off guard for just a moment. The darkness helped to mask his expression, and his brief surprise vanished quickly. Without any hesitation or sympathy, Zhuo Wenshu tore Shi Jiaojiao off him like she was a rag and tossed her to the ground.
The small stones on the ground scraped her knees and hands, causing her to let out a pained gasp. Zhuo Wenshu, however, took two slow steps toward her, stopping right in front of her.
“Back then, you framed me for your crime, threatened me with my mother’s life, and I spent five years in prison for you. You promised to take care of her, but you lost her.” Zhuo Wenshu inhaled deeply, and each word fell on Shi Jiaojiao’s head like a hammer. “I could kill you right now.”
Shi Jiaojiao trembled, a faint whimper escaping her throat. She knew Zhuo Wenshu wasn’t bluffing—he truly meant to kill her. She had already died several times, and although she could start over after each death, the pain and terror of dying were horribly real.
“Five years,” Zhuo Wenshu sneered. “Now you’ve been accepted back into the Shi family, living as the pampered daughter of a wealthy household, about to marry the most promising young man in Yunshan City… You really think life is that easy? Hmm?”
His voice was soft, but it sent a chill down her spine. “I won’t let you off that easily. You just wait.”
“Wenshu…” Shi Jiaojiao called out, her voice trembling as she braced herself for whatever he might do next. But after waiting a while, she only heard the sound of footsteps moving away.
Once certain that Zhuo Wenshu had indeed left, Shi Jiaojiao collapsed onto the dirty, uneven ground, her body limp with relief. She gingerly touched her sore neck, wincing in pain. I survived. Did this mean this approach could work?
If nothing else, she had no other options left. After a while, she hauled herself up and returned to the now-empty wedding venue. Retrieving her car keys from the front desk, she drove back to the Shi family home.
The scandal of her fleeing with a fugitive at her wedding had likely spread far and wide by now. Her adoptive father, Shi Yuecheng, was probably busy trying to smooth things over with the groom’s family. The house was empty when she arrived.
In her room, she checked the mirror and saw that her neck was badly bruised. She grabbed a random dress from her wardrobe, swapped out her wedding gown, and tied a small scarf around her neck to hide the marks. Before Shi Yuecheng could return in a rage, she quickly packed her valuables into a large shoulder bag, threw in a few clothes, and left the house.
She drove through the night, heading toward Zhuo Wenshu’s hideout—the tattoo parlor where he had settled after his release from prison. He had been only 19 when he was jailed, and now, at 24, he had no friends outside of the people he met in prison. The tattoo parlor was owned by one of his former cellmates.
Shi Jiaojiao wasn’t entirely clear on the specifics of the plot—her memory of the story was fuzzy—but after searching through three tattoo parlors, she finally found a small one, dimly lit with a few lights still on. Through the glass door, she could see a group of six or seven men, shirtless and covered in tattoos, eating together. The sight sent a shiver down her spine.
Zhuo Wenshu sat near the door, his back to her. His black T-shirt was lifted slightly, revealing the sharp, pale curve of his waist. The fluorescent light glinted off his buzzed scalp.
Shi Jiaojiao’s courage wavered. She wasn’t afraid of the tattooed tough guys, but Zhuo Wenshu… One wrong move, and he might smash a bottle over her head.
Five years of his youth, the best years of his life, wasted behind bars. Zhuo Wenshu’s hatred and desire for revenge were all too real. Had he not found his mother after being released, Shi Jiaojiao had no doubt she wouldn’t have survived the night.
Clutching her bag tightly, she gathered her courage and pushed the door open. A bell chimed as she entered, jangling loudly enough to make her heart race. The men stopped eating and stared at her in surprise. One of them, a burly man, put down his bottle and said, “Little sister, it’s the middle of the night. Come back tomorrow for a tattoo.”
Shi Jiaojiao didn’t move. She stared at Zhuo Wenshu’s back, noticing that he was the only one who hadn’t turned around. Tightening her grip on her bag, she forced a strained smile at the burly man before taking small, hesitant steps toward Zhuo Wenshu.
“Wen… Wenshu…” she stammered, her voice shaky and barely recognizable.
Zhuo Wenshu’s hand, which had been holding a bottle to his lips, froze. He set the bottle down with a loud clang and slowly turned his head to look at her.
His gaze was as cold as death. He had half a mind to kill her right then and there, and had it not been for his mother’s dependence on her care, Shi Jiaojiao wouldn’t still be breathing. She was the one who had destroyed his youth, his innocence.
To think she had the audacity to come to me on her own!
His lips, tinted red from the alcohol, made him look like a menacing ghost, especially with the purplish scar blotting his left eye. Shi Jiaojiao tried not to back away, but her legs were already trembling in fear. She had never faced anything this terrifying before.
Still shaking, she opened her bag, grabbing the cash and jewelry inside, and shoved them all into Zhuo Wenshu’s lap. “I… I brought these for you—Ah!”
His hand swatted her wrist hard, sending the money and jewelry flying across the room. He stood up abruptly, grabbed her by the throat again, and slammed her against the glass door, her bag falling to the floor.
“You really had the guts to come here. You think I wouldn’t do anything to you?” Zhuo Wenshu leaned in close. “There are no cameras on the way here, and everyone in this room is with me. If I chopped you up and fried you for a snack, no one would ever know!”
Shi Jiaojiao burst into tears on cue, clutching at his hand in terror, her whole body trembling like a leaf. He didn’t tighten his grip. That means he doesn’t intend to kill me… yet.
As Zhuo Wenshu spat threats at her, Shi Jiaojiao cried harder, blubbering about how he should just kill her. Tears streamed down her face, but she was careful not to let her nose run, maintaining the perfect balance of pathetic beauty.
She whispered hoarsely, “Dying by your hand would be better than living with this guilt.”
The men in the room, all hardened by their own time in prison, were dumbfounded. They had never seen such a dramatic display—not even on television. One of the older men’s eyes reddened, and he muttered, “Just make up already, you two.”
Shi Jiaojiao, sensing her opportunity, wriggled free of Zhuo Wenshu’s grasp. She pulled out a bank card from her pocket, tears streaming down her face as she pressed it into his hand.
“This is… this is all I’ve saved up over the years… waiting for you. Take it.”
She crouched on the floor, sobbing helplessly, her fingers raw and bleeding from the stones outside. Clutching at his pant leg, she gazed up at him from the perfect angle, her tears glistening in the dim light.
“The password is… the day you went in…” she whispered between sobs. Total lie! I don’t even remember when he went in! The password’s just this body’s birthday!
The room was filled with stunned silence. Even some of the men watching from the sidelines wiped their eyes. Only Zhuo Wenshu’s expression grew darker by the second. Her tearful performance reminded him too much of that day five years ago, when she had cried and begged him to take the blame for her crime.
Back then, she had knelt before him, using the fact that she had once saved his mother’s life as leverage, threatening and manipulating him into a confession. The tears, the sobs, the desperation—they were the same now as they had been then.
Shi Jiaojiao, noticing Zhuo Wenshu’s hesitation, stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Wenshu… I’m sorry…” I should never have written you in the first place!
“Let me make it up to you,” she pleaded, resting her head against his chest. “I’ll give you everything I have. I’ll leave the Shi family, give you all my money, and stay by your side. Please…”
The other men in the room had no idea about the real history between the two, nor that Shi Jiaojiao was the very reason Zhuo Wenshu had been imprisoned in the first place. Even if she wasn’t the same person as the original body, she was still the architect of Zhuo Wenshu’s misery.
But to the men, it seemed like a touching story—Shi Jiaojiao was young, beautiful, crying her heart out, offering everything she had. Where else would they ever find a woman willing to wait so many years for a man who had been in prison?
Especially for men like them—ex-convicts who, after serving a few years, often found themselves alone, their wives and families long gone. Life was short, and to find someone waiting for you like this was a rare blessing. One of the larger men, drunk and sentimental, had already started tearing up, mumbling about how his wife had left him after he got out, and now his own kid wouldn’t even see him.
He called out, “Zhuo, come on, couples fight all the time, but having someone wait for you on the outside—man, that’s a blessing. She knows she messed up, so take her upstairs, clean her up, and let’s call it a night. I can’t take this crying anymore!”
Zhuo Wenshu stood stiffly, gripping Shi Jiaojiao by the shoulders and pushing her away. Every word she said, he didn’t believe for a second. He wasn’t just disgusted; he was burning with rage—so hot it felt like his skull might explode.
After all she had done, she now had the audacity to stand here and perform this ridiculous act? Zhuo Wenshu had seen all kinds of people in prison, and his ability to read them had been honed by years of survival. He had no intention of being fooled by Shi Jiaojiao’s tricks again.
Behind him, the men tried to convince him. Shi Jiaojiao, undeterred, clung to him once more. This time, Zhuo Wenshu laughed—a cold, chilling sound that had nothing to do with joy. His smile revealed sharp, white teeth, and his lips, stained red from the alcohol, were both alluring and terrifying.
He didn’t push her away this time. Instead, he raised his hand, brushing the back of his fingers across her tear-streaked cheek, before gripping her chin firmly.
“You say you want to stay with me?”