Midnight.
A cascade of neon lights dispelled the creeping darkness, and the city remained as raucous and vibrant as in daylight.
A sultry breeze drifted by. Outside the shadowy club called Darker Hue, two women stood facing each other.
One was tall and alluring, clad in a provocative miniskirt, her face painted in bold, striking makeup; the other wore a crisp shirt buttoned to the collar and long trousers, her short hair neat and sharp.
"Go back to school!" Zhou Chaochao's voice trembled with restrained fury.
The provocatively dressed girl before her was her younger cousin, Zhou Yuan, newly seventeen. She had recently dropped out of school and come here alone to work as a hostess.
She was beautiful, tall, and mature-looking—taller than Zhou Chaochao by half a head. To outsiders, it was easy to mistake who was the elder.
They had grown up together, once close in childhood, though time had since worn down that bond. Yet blood remained thicker than distance. Zhou Chaochao couldn't bear to watch her cousin descend this path.
"School?" Zhou Yuan laughed softly, eyes lowered, her voice laced with derision. "What good is school? Can studying make you money?"
Zhou Chaochao's gaze turned icy. Her voice was firm and resolute. "It teaches you dignity. It teaches you right from wrong. It gives you a future beyond this haze and filth." She paused, her tone softening. "You won't have to worry about tuition or living expenses. My father said he'll cover it all."
Zhou Yuan merely smiled, shook her head, and casually lit a cigarette she pulled from her bag. She took a deep drag, then exhaled a plume of smoke directly into Zhou Chaochao's face.
Her movements were smooth and practiced.
The acrid smoke stung Zhou Chaochao's eyes and nose. She instinctively frowned.
Zhou Yuan said coolly, "Sis, we're not the same. School may work for you—but not for me."
"Why not? What makes us different?"
Zhou Yuan flicked the ash from her cigarette, her voice tinged with sorrow. "We're both human, yes—but you know it better than I do: people are born into different classes. Your parents are teachers. You're smart, beautiful, always top of your class. Me? My mom's mentally ill, my dad's a gambling addict. I was born in the mud..." She gave a small, bitter laugh, then sighed. "Books won't save me. Money will."
"Zhou Yuan..."
"Don't waste your breath. I'm not going back." Zhou Yuan lifted her chin, eyes distant, scanning the sky.
"I don't want to see you ruin yourself like this," Zhou Chaochao murmured.
"It's none of your business. Don't come looking for me again. I'm doing just fine here—really. Stop haunting me like some damn ghost!" Zhou Yuan suddenly snapped, eyes sharp with disdain. She scanned her cousin up and down with mockery, curling her lips. "Good little girls like you don't belong here. The people inside aren't decent. You should leave."
With that, she turned and walked toward the club entrance.
Zhou Chaochao called out after her, voice ringing with urgency, "You just said none of them are decent—so why are you still going in?"
Zhou Yuan paused mid-step, tilted her head slightly, and replied nonchalantly, "Because I'm not decent either."
Without another glance, she vanished into the smoky depths of Darker Hue. Zhou Chaochao's heart clenched. She hastily followed.
Zhou Yuan moved quickly. Inside, the space was teeming with writhing bodies—men and women lost in reckless indulgence. Zhou Chaochao was caught in the crowd, like a fish trapped on dry land—gasping, struggling, unable to move.
The blaring music pounded through her skull. The thick stench of alcohol and sweat made her light-headed. She was shoved and jostled, watching Zhou Yuan slip farther and farther away—until she was swallowed whole by the crowd.
Frustration washed over her. Rising on tiptoe, she scanned the crowd again, but Zhou Yuan was gone.
The dance floor was a frenzy of swaying bodies and pulsing lights. This was a haven of hedonism, a playground for the city's restless souls. But beneath the glamour, it reeked of hidden decay and festering sins.
Unable to find her, Zhou Chaochao turned to leave. Just as she reached the club entrance, she accidentally bumped into someone and stepped on their foot.
Head bowed, she opened her mouth to apologize, but the man spoke first.
"Fuck! You dare step on me?"
The stench of alcohol and foul breath assaulted her senses.
She looked up, startled. The man wore a garish floral shirt, had a shaved head, beady eyes, and a thuggish sneer. A toothpick dangled from his lips. Another shady-looking man loomed behind him.
They looked like trouble.
Zhou Chaochao didn't want any. She suppressed her irritation and spoke politely. "I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."
The man's eyes scanned her slowly—lingering on her delicate features, then drifting down to her pale, slender neck.
Something shifted in his gaze—hunger. His anger morphed into a smile. "It's alright, it's alright," he drawled, still blocking her path.
Zhou Chaochao bit her lip, her pale eyes glinting with suppressed anger. She noticed that when others tried to leave, they moved aside. But when it was her turn, they deliberately stood in her way.
"What do you want? You're not letting me out?" she asked coldly.
They exchanged knowing smiles, malicious amusement in their eyes.
"Relax, sweetheart. First time in a club?" the man in the floral shirt asked, leering. "How old are you?"
As he spoke, he reached out, attempting to drape an arm over her shoulder. She stepped back quickly.
"No need to be scared." He grinned wider. "Big brother doesn't bite. Just wanna have a little fun with you. That's all."
"Move," she ordered, her voice hard and unwavering.
"Move?" he echoed, mockingly. He turned to his companion and burst into laughter. "We don't want to move!"
Zhou Chaochao's heart pounded. Something was wrong. They were closing in, clearly unwilling to let her go.
She reacted fast, instinctively turning to flee back inside—hoping the crowd might offer a chance to escape.
But just as she turned, someone appeared—walking slowly from the far end of the corridor.
At a glance, she recognized him.
A tide of memories surged.
Lu Lie?
She blinked, stunned, frozen in place as he approached.
He was tall, wearing a black jacket, his hair unkempt and wild. Dark circles clung beneath his eyes, and his face was cold, angular, defiant. There was a dangerous edge in his gaze.
Lu Lie stared at her for a moment, frowning slightly, as if sensing her distress.
Then, just as the man in the floral shirt reached for her, Lu Lie grabbed Zhou Chaochao by the collar and yanked her forcefully into his chest—solid and warm.
His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her close. A sharp, smoky scent clung to him. His piercing gaze swept over the two men.
Faced with Lu Lie's towering frame and fearsome presence, the men hesitated and backed off, unwilling to provoke him.
Lu Lie leaned down, his arm still around her, and pushed her forward. As they passed, he spoke, voice low and rough, tinged with mockery. "There you are, brat. Been looking all over. Where the hell did you run off to?"
Zhou Chaochao was momentarily dazed, her mind blank. Then reason kicked in. She whispered, "You—"
"Shut up," he hissed back.
His breath tickled her ear—warm, laced with alcohol, oddly comforting.
She said nothing more, obediently silent, walking stiffly beside him like a puppet as he led her outside.
Once in the open air, heat surged over them like a wave.
Lu Lie let go. He glanced sideways at her with narrowed, fox-like eyes.
A little schoolgirl. Still in high school, probably.
He studied her again.
No—calling her a high schooler might be giving her too much credit.
He looked away, fished a cigarette and lighter from his pocket.
The lighter clicked. A blue flame flickered. He lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, watching her.
"I'm not a bad guy," he said in a low, hoarse voice. "Just wanted to get you out of there. That's all."
Then he frowned, voice growing impatient. "Go home. A kid like you doesn't belong in a place like that."
Zhou Chaochao opened her mouth but said nothing. She didn't leave either—just stared at him.
Lu Lie noticed her gaze. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. He grew visibly irked.
Holding the cigarette between his fingers, he strode toward her—tall, menacing, blotting out the light.
She flinched, stepping back.
His brows furrowed. His face darkened.
"What are you looking at?" he barked. "Got a death wish? Get lost!"
Still, she didn't move.
He took another step, raising his hand. "Go!"
Only then did Zhou Chaochao snap out of her trance. She turned and walked away. At the street corner, she stopped and looked back.
Across the road, Lu Lie stood at the entrance of Darker Hue, head lowered, still smoking.
The red tip of the cigarette glowed faintly in the dark.
He never looked her way—not once.
Remembering his tone, his attitude—he clearly didn't recognize her.
Halfway through his cigarette, a voice buzzed in his earpiece—excited and crackling with static.
"Boss! We've got him. Wang Zhiqiang just showed up."
Lu Lie gave a quiet grunt. "Got it. Keep an eye on him. I'm on my way."
He flicked the cigarette into a nearby trash bin, then turned and disappeared back into the club—never once glancing at her.