The interior of the Rolls-Royce Ghost smelled of expensive leather and cool detachment. Li Mei straightened her coat and smoothed the expensive fabric, watching the financial district disappear behind them. She felt a brief, familiar satisfaction. She had done the right thing. She had chosen security.
She leaned over to Mr. Chen, her new fiancé. "It's a relief, isn't it? Cutting ties with that poverty. I feel like my luck has already improved."
Mr. Chen, who had been focused on his phone, grunted. "Your luck is irrelevant, Li Mei. I deal in certainties. You are a valuable accessory that projects my stability. That is all."
She ignored the coldness. She was in the car, and Zhao Min was in the past.
Just then, a city bus, accelerating hard through a massive puddle, swerved slightly into their lane. A huge wave of filthy, brown street water—activated by the aggressive Karma Reversal—slammed against the sedan. The sheer force was enough to bypass the window seals, and a heavy sheet of cold, muddy water splashed directly over Li Mei.
She shrieked—a raw, panicked sound—as the dirty water drenched her hair, ruined her expensive coat, and stung her eyes.
Mr. Chen slammed on the brakes. "What in God's name—! Get yourself together, Li Mei! You look like a street cat!"
He was furious, but not worried about her. He was worried about the stain on his car's immaculate interior. Li Mei, spluttering and wiping the grit from her face, realized her composure was utterly gone.
The incident was small, but it was the first punishment. The second, more devastating one, followed immediately.
Mr. Chen's phone began to vibrate wildly. He answered with a sharp command. Li Mei watched as the color drained from his face, replaced by a sickly, yellow-tinged fury.
"What do you mean, the transfer failed?" Mr. Chen roared into the phone. "The $50 million investment—the one that was guaranteed! The bank is demanding compensation? A filing error? Impossible!"
He hung up, his massive financial armor suddenly dented. He stared blankly ahead, his jaw tight. This single, freak occurrence was enough to derail a crucial, time-sensitive deal.
"What happened?" Li Mei asked timidly.
Mr. Chen didn't look at her. "Someone in my firm made a 'clerical error' that has cost me an immediate $10 million in penalties. A mistake that never happens." He suddenly looked back at her, his eyes cold and calculating.
"It started the moment we left that pathetic boyfriend of yours," he mused, his voice filled with suspicion. "You said he was bad luck. Perhaps you are the true source."
Li Mei felt a spike of panic. "No! I am good luck! I've always had good luck!"
Mr. Chen scrolled furiously through his tablet. He had his lawyers research every asset he was about to acquire. His eyes locked on the complex prenuptial agreement Li Mei had happily signed, which promised her a massive payout—unless she was found to have hidden a previous debt.
A sudden, bizarre error notification flashed on his tablet screen: a forgotten, technical debt from Li Mei's college days—only a few thousand dollars, but enough to legally violate a major clause in the document. An obscure, irrelevant problem that had suddenly surfaced.
"Aha!" Mr. Chen cried, his voice triumphant. "The contract is invalid! You owe me nothing, Li Mei. Worse, you are contaminated."
He slammed the brakes and pulled the car over violently, right next to a noisy, construction site dumpster.
"Get out!" he commanded, his face a mask of cold rejection. "You are an unacceptable financial liability. You are chaos. I want you out of my life and out of my car now."
Li Mei was pushed out onto the wet pavement. She screamed, not from fear, but from the sudden, catastrophic loss of everything she had worked for.
Within two hours, Li Mei was entirely alone. Her work office had called to fire her, citing "unacceptable brand damage" from the viral photo taken of her next to the dumpster. Her credit cards were frozen. She was utterly destitute.
She sat in a cheap, temporary motel room, staring at the peeling wallpaper. The headache that had started with the cold splash of water was now a pounding, persistent reminder.
She looked at her ruined coat, then at her trembling hands. It was then that the logic clicked into place. She wasn't unlucky; she was experiencing retaliation.
She had met Zhao Min when she was working two dead-end jobs just to eat. The day she started dating him, her life had effortlessly risen. She got the high-end retail job, she met wealthy clients, she achieved every small goal. It had never been her; it had always been him.
He is a Luck Conduit, she realized with a terrible certainty. And I killed the source by breaking his heart.
She now understood the truth of her situation: her life depended on her ability to drain his kindness. Her goal was no longer love or wealth; it was simple, desperate survival.
She pulled out her phone. She needed to trigger his one weakness: his deep, self-sacrificing pity. The Karma was too strong. She had to pause it immediately.
She opened Zhao Min's contact. Her fingers trembled as she began to type the message that would secure her temporary relief.