The corridor opened into a wider gallery wing, but Xia Lihua didn't slow down. The rhythm of her heels turned uneven as she pushed herself faster, one hand lifting the hem of her gown just enough to keep from tripping. The mask pressed against her face with each sharp breath, her pulse loud in her ears.
Behind her, Yang Lingyun was closing the distance.
His footsteps were heavier and faster.
"Xia Lihua...please stop! Don't run away!"
She took a sharp turn into a narrower passageway, one meant for staff rather than visitors.
Think.
She couldn't let him catch her.
Behind her, the sound of his steps followed without faltering.
"Xia Lihua!"
Closer.
Too close.
Her eyes darted across the corridor, searching—anything, any opening—
Then she saw it.
