Li Ziqing kicked, twisted, tried to break free—but his grip only tightened.
"You want to call the police?" Zhao Shide's voice twisted into a low, dangerous growl. "Very well. Seems you've already forgotten your place."
With that, he slammed the door shut behind him with a vicious kick and stormed across the room. Before Li Ziqing could react, he seized her wrist and dragged her toward the innermost room of the apartment. His grip was bruising.
"How dare you run away right after your mother's funeral, huh?" he roared. "And not only that—you didn't even try to contact me. If it weren't for that man who called and told me, I wouldn't have known you'd fled all the way to the south!"
He threw her into the corner like discarded luggage. As she stumbled and collapsed to the floor, his booted foot landed hard against her stomach.
"Ahhh!" Li Ziqing cried out, curling into herself and clutching her abdomen, the pain searing through her like fire. Tears welled in her eyes, but her instincts screamed for survival. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for any possible escape.
"P-please…" she sobbed, trembling. "Please let me go. I—I'll give you everything I have. All the money I've earned… I know you just want it to play mahjong, right? I'll give it to you… all of it."
Zhao Shide's lip curled into a sneer. He stared down at her, his eyes full of contempt.
"Money?" he barked. "You think I'm some beggar scavenging for coins? I'm your father! It's your duty to support me. Or have you forgotten the meaning of filial piety?"
He scoffed, then glanced at her attire—a simple work uniform, a short, tight skirt from her waitressing job. His eyes narrowed.
"So this is what you're wearing now? Working as a waitress in places like that… Look at you—so shameless, showing your thighs like a cheap bar girl. Just like your mother… that woman was no better."
Li Ziqing's fingers curled tightly into fists at the sound of him insulting her mother. But she was powerless. The rage swelled in her chest, only to be drowned by the helpless tears rolling down her cheeks.
Zhao Shide's gaze lingered. The skirt, hiked slightly from the scuffle, revealed a modest strip of skin. Something shifted in his expression—disgust gave way to something darker. He swallowed hard, his breath growing heavier.
A vile thought slithered into his mind.
Just like her mother. Seductive. Defiant. Beautiful.
His eyes, now gleaming with perverse intent, slowly roamed over Li Ziqing's trembling form. The innocence in her terror only fed his delusion.
A sinister smile curled on Zhao Shide's lips as he took a slow step forward.
"Tonight, I'll teach you what it truly means to disrespect your stepfather," he snarled.
Li Ziqing instantly felt a chilling sense of dread. Something in his eyes had shifted—no longer just anger or cruelty, but something far more vile. Her body trembled uncontrollably.
"W-What are you doing? Don't come any closer!" she cried, inching back with panic in her voice.
But she was already trapped—cornered against the wall of her own apartment, with nowhere left to run.
Zhao Shide let out a low, menacing laugh. "You won't be able to escape this time, Li Ziqing," he growled. "You're just like your mother—seductive and shameless. She got herself pregnant with you two bastards and pretended it was love. Tell me, how many men have already had you? So what difference does it make if I'm one more?"
Disgust twisted across his face as he bent down toward her. His hand reached out, slowly, deliberately, brushing against her exposed legs with revolting intent.
Li Ziqing's eyes widened in absolute horror.
She couldn't believe what she was hearing—what he was suggesting.
She had always known Zhao Shide was scum. From the moment he entered their lives, he brought nothing but control, violence, and fear. He never worked a real job, spending most of his time loitering at the convenience store near the village gate, gambling away what little money they had on mahjong. At home, he barked orders, demanded obedience, and beat her mother at the slightest provocation.
Li Ziqing had been only a teenager, helpless and afraid. Every time she heard her mother crying behind closed doors, she would sit outside, silently sobbing, unable to help. All she could do was pick up the pieces afterward—tend to the bruises, hold her mother through the nights, and shoulder whatever responsibilities she could to ease the burden.
Before Zhao Shide came into their lives, things had been different. Her mother used to run a breakfast stall in the northern district in Wuhan. They weren't rich, but they lived with dignity and peace.
Then came the accident.
Her brother—lively and full of dreams—had been hit by a car and their world began to unravel.
In the name of helping the family, her eldest aunt arranged a remarriage. That's when Zhao Shide came in.
And with him, came hell.
One year. Just one year of marriage had been enough to break them.
Her mother endured relentless abuse—verbal, emotional, and physical. Li Ziqing, too, became a target, forced to do endless housework, field labor, and endure his tyranny in silence.
And then, one day, her mother was gone—found drowned in the reservoir near the village. Some called it suicide. Others whispered darker things. But Li Ziqing knew the truth.
Her mother hadn't died from despair alone.
She had died because this man had crushed the last of her will to live.
Now, with that same look in his eyes, he stood before Li Ziqing—no longer a stepfather, but a predator.
And she had no one left to protect her.
Lost in the flood of her memories, Li Ziqing was suddenly jolted back to the present by the sensation of Zhao Shide's rough hands creeping around her waist. Another hand tugged violently at the collar of her shirt. A wave of nausea surged through her as the trauma of her mother's suffering flashed before her eyes. In that moment, the anguish, fear, and helplessness buried deep inside her for years ignited into white-hot rage.
With a guttural scream, she shoved his hand away and, with all the strength she could muster, hurled him backward.
Caught off guard, Zhao Shide stumbled and crashed into the wall. His head slammed against the concrete with a dull thud.
"Argh! You filthy little whore!" he howled, fury twisting his face. He staggered to his feet, only to see Li Ziqing bolting toward the front door. She fumbled to unlock it.
But she didn't make it.
With long, aggressive strides, Zhao Shide closed the distance, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked her back with brutal force.
"You bitch!" he bellowed. "How dare you push me?! Do you really think you can run from me? Keep dreaming!"
With those venomous words, he slammed her head into the wall.
A sharp, searing pain shot through Li Ziqing's skull. Her vision blurred. She let out a scream of agony, her knees nearly giving way.
"Tonight," he hissed through clenched teeth, "I'll have you—otherwise, I'm no man at all!"
And with that, he shoved her violently onto the bed.
Li Ziqing cried out as she landed hard. The pain was dizzying, her consciousness slipping—but she gritted her teeth and fought to stay awake.
Zhao Shide's face twisted with grotesque satisfaction as he climbed onto the bed, pressing his full weight down on her body. The pressure made it hard to breathe. She thrashed wildly beneath him, her voice hoarse as she cried out, "Zhao Shide, y-you bastard! Get off me! Let me go!"
She kicked and pounded her fists against him in desperation, tears streaming from her eyes, her voice cracking as she screamed for help. But her attacker was already consumed—intoxicated by the faint scent of soap and sweat clinging to her body. His face descended toward her neck like a ravenous animal, and without warning, he bit down hard on her skin.
Pain and terror fused into fury. Her body froze—eyes wide, mouth agape, tears falling silently.
And then something snapped.
Li Ziqing's hands began scrambling, desperate, searching for anything—anything—to fight back. Her fingers closed around a small bedside lamp.
Without hesitation, she brought it crashing down on Zhao Shide's skull.
"Ahhh!" he screamed in agony, jerking away.
Seizing the moment, Li Ziqing shoved him off her with every ounce of strength left in her bruised body. She staggered to her feet, panting, chest heaving, her eyes now burning with hatred.
For a moment, the room fell silent.
Something inside her had broken. Or perhaps—something had awakened.
No longer did she feel fear. No longer did she feel despair. Only one thing remained:
Kill him.
Zhao Shide looked up, dazed and bleeding, and for the first time, he saw something in her eyes that made his blood run cold.
"L-Li Ziqing… What are you doing? I'm your stepfather…" he stammered, eyes wide with dread.
Li Ziqing sneered coldly. "Stepfather? You don't deserve the title."
And then she raised the lamp again—and brought it down on his head.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Again and again, until the light fixture shattered in her hands.
Until the screams turned to gurgles.
Until the breathing grew shallow.
Until the monster stopped moving.
Only when she saw the blood soaking through the sheets and his body growing limp did she stop.
Li Ziqing stood there, frozen, the broken lamp still clenched in her hand, chest heaving, her face streaked with blood and tears. Her world had gone silent, save for the violent rhythm of her own heartbeat.
She didn't know when her hands had stopped trembling.
But she knew one thing with certainty:
The nightmare was over.
Or so she thought.