The sound of metal striking wood rang through the auditorium, echoing like a thunderclap. Gasps, screams, and the scraping of chairs filled the air as the spotlight came crashing down toward Liang Meiyu.
For a single terrifying second, time froze.
She could see the audience's horrified faces. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding against her ears. She could taste the metallic tang of fear in her mouth.
And then—arms wrapped around her.
A strong body collided with hers, pulling her down to the floor just as the heavy spotlight shattered against the stage with a deafening crash. Glass shards scattered, sparks fizzed, and the once-bright stage plunged into chaos.
Meiyu blinked, dazed, her ears ringing. When her vision cleared, she realized who had shielded her.
"Zhao… Yichen?" Her voice trembled.
He hovered above her, one arm braced against the stage to protect her from the falling debris, his other arm gripping her tightly, refusing to let go. His face was pale with fury.
"Are you stupid?!" he hissed, his voice sharp, but his eyes betrayed something else—fear. Real, raw fear. "Why didn't you move?"
Before she could answer, another voice cut through the chaos.
"Meiyu!"
Wen Haoran rushed toward them, his usually calm demeanor shattered. His eyes widened when he saw her beneath Yichen, glass glittering all around them.
"Get off her," Haoran snapped, his voice low, commanding.
But Yichen didn't move. "If I hadn't pulled her down, she'd be—"
"That doesn't matter now." Haoran's jaw tightened as he crouched beside them, carefully lifting Meiyu into his arms. His touch was steady, yet trembling with barely controlled rage.
Meiyu clutched his sleeve, her voice barely audible. "I… I'm okay. Really."
But she wasn't okay. Her knees were scraped, her palms cut from the fall, and her heart was still racing wildly.
The audience was in an uproar, teachers rushing onto the stage.
"Cut the lights!"
"Call the nurse!"
"Is anyone hurt?"
Meiyu's name was whispered everywhere. The girl who was always surrounded by rumors had now become the center of a real tragedy.
---
Backstage, chaos only grew. The teachers ushered Meiyu to a chair, inspecting her wounds. They were shallow cuts—nothing fatal—but the danger of what had almost happened hung heavy in the air.
"This wasn't an accident," the stage manager muttered darkly. "The bolts didn't just fall out on their own."
Meiyu's chest tightened. She thought of the ruined costume. The anonymous message. The promise: Tomorrow, we'll make sure you fall.
It's them. They're not done yet.
But before she could speak, Yichen's voice cut through.
"Who was in charge of the lights?" His tone was sharp, his eyes blazing.
No one answered. Students exchanged nervous glances.
Haoran's hand clenched into a fist. "If I find out who touched that rig, I won't let them walk away."
The teachers tried to calm everyone, but the tension was thick, suffocating.
Meiyu swallowed hard. If I tell them about the threats… what then? Will things only get worse?
Her silence, however, didn't go unnoticed.
Yichen knelt in front of her, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "You know something, don't you?"
Her eyes widened. "N-No…"
"Don't lie to me, Liang Meiyu." His gaze was sharp, unrelenting. "This wasn't random. Someone's after you."
Haoran overheard. He looked at her too, his eyes filled with worry rather than anger. "Meiyu… if someone's targeting you, you have to tell us."
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She wanted to scream, to confess everything—but fear clamped around her throat. If she exposed the culprits, would they go even further?
"I… I don't know anything," she whispered at last.
Yichen's jaw tightened. Haoran's expression dimmed. Neither believed her.
---
Later that evening, after the festival chaos died down, Meiyu sat alone on the rooftop of the school. The cool night air brushed against her scraped skin, making her wince.
She hugged her knees to her chest. The stars above twinkled, indifferent to her suffering.
"Why me?" she whispered. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Her voice cracked. For so long she had smiled, endured, laughed through the pain. But tonight, she felt small, weak, and utterly alone.
Footsteps approached.
"Found you."
She turned. Yichen leaned casually against the doorframe, though his expression was anything but casual. His uniform jacket hung loosely, his hands stuffed into his pockets, but his eyes… they burned into her.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said.
She looked away. "I just wanted quiet."
He walked over, stopping in front of her. "Quiet won't save you, Meiyu. Pretending you're fine won't save you either."
Her throat tightened. "You don't understand—"
"I do understand," he interrupted sharply. He crouched down, leveling his gaze with hers. "I know what it's like to be hunted. To be cornered until you can't breathe. I'm not letting that happen to you."
She blinked, startled. His voice held something raw, almost vulnerable.
Before she could respond, another voice broke the silence.
"She doesn't need your threats, Zhao Yichen. She needs someone who actually listens."
Haoran stepped onto the rooftop, his usual calm face shadowed with anger. His gaze flicked between Meiyu and Yichen, tension sparking like lightning.
Yichen stood, his smirk bitter. "And you think you're that someone?"
"I don't think," Haoran said coldly. "I know."
Meiyu's chest tightened as the two boys stood off, their unspoken rivalry no longer subtle. Both wanted to protect her—but both in completely different ways.
And in that moment, she realized something terrifying.
The stage sabotage wasn't just about her reputation anymore. Whoever was targeting her… they wanted her gone.
For good.
---