"I'm going to die."
The sentence appeared on Lin An's phone without warning.
No notification. No sender. Just a single video file sitting in her gallery—timestamped three days from now.
For a moment, she didn't move.
Then she let out a quiet breath and tapped the screen.
The video started.
The footage was unstable, the frame shaking slightly as if whoever recorded it had been running—or trembling. A faint, uneven breathing filled the silence.
Lin An froze.
She knew that sound.
It was her.
Her grip tightened around the phone as the image sharpened.
The room in the video was unmistakable. The warm yellow light beside the bed, the half-drawn curtains, the reflection in the standing mirror—every detail matched her bedroom perfectly.
Her heartbeat quickened.
"This isn't funny…"
On screen, her own figure stumbled backward until her back hit the wall. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear, locked onto something just outside the camera's frame.
Someone.
A man.
Only his silhouette was visible—tall, broad-shouldered, standing still in the shadows.
Watching her.
Waiting.
"Don't come any closer…" the Lin An in the video whispered, her voice trembling.
The man took a step forward.
Light brushed past his hand.
Long fingers. Tense.
Holding something metallic.
A knife.
Lin An's breath hitched. "No—"
The man lunged.
The image shook violently. There was a crash, a scream, and then—
blood.
The frame blurred, red spreading across the screen before everything went black.
The video ended.
Silence filled the room.
Lin An stared at the screen, her pulse hammering in her ears. Slowly, she lowered her gaze to the timestamp.
23:47 — three days later.
"That's impossible…"
She stepped back too quickly, knocking a glass off the table. It shattered on the floor, the sharp sound dragging her back into reality.
She was still here.
Still alive.
"This is fake," she said, forcing her voice steady. "It has to be."
But even as she said it, doubt crept in.
No one could recreate her room like that.
No one.
She swallowed and replayed the video, this time slowing it down.
Frame by frame.
Second by second.
The man's face remained hidden.
But at second seventeen—
when his hand lifted—
the camera caught something.
A ring.
Black. Simple. Unadorned.
Her breath caught.
She had seen that ring before.
Her mind raced, flipping through memories until suddenly—
everything aligned.
Last night.
The dinner party.
A man standing near the window, distant, detached from the crowd.
And on his finger—
that exact same ring.
A chill ran down her spine.
"If this is real…"
Her phone lit up.
A new message appeared.
No sender.
If you want to live—find him.
Lin An stared at the words, her fear slowly hardening into something colder.
"Fine…"
Her grip on the phone tightened.
"If you're the man who's going to kill me…"
Her eyes darkened.
"Then I'll find you first."
The party was still ongoing when Lin An returned.
Nothing had changed.
The same soft music. The same quiet laughter. The same polished smiles.
But everything felt different now.
Her gaze scanned the room, sharper than before.
And then she saw him.
Standing by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand, untouched.
Calm. Detached.
As if the world had nothing to do with him.
Her chest tightened.
That was him.
No doubt about it.
She walked toward him.
Each step steady, deliberate.
Her heartbeat grew louder with every inch of distance she closed.
When she stopped in front of him, he still hadn't looked at her.
"Excuse me."
Only then did his gaze shift.
Dark eyes met hers.
Cold. Measured.
Dangerous.
"Yes?"
His voice was low, calm, as if nothing in this world could disturb him.
Lin An forced herself to hold his gaze. "We met last night."
A pause.
"I don't think so."
A lie.
Her eyes dropped briefly—to his hand.
The black ring gleamed faintly under the light.
Her chest tightened.
"I'm Lin An."
Silence lingered for a moment longer before he finally spoke.
"Shen Wei."
The name settled heavily in her mind.
She didn't know why—but something about it felt irreversible.
"Do you believe the future can be changed?" she asked.
This time, he didn't answer immediately.
His gaze lingered on her—longer than before.
As if trying to read something beneath her words.
"No," he said finally.
"Why?"
"Because people don't change."
The answer came without hesitation.
As if he had already tested that belief.
As if he knew it was true.
Lin An held his gaze.
Then, quietly—
"I want to marry you."
For the first time—
the silence felt different.
He didn't react.
Didn't question.
Didn't laugh.
He just watched her.
Carefully.
"Why?" he asked.
Lin An's lips curved slightly.
"Because I think you're the only one who can save me."
"From what?"
His voice was sharper this time.
More focused.
Lin An didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she stepped closer.
Close enough to see the faint tension in his jaw.
"From dying," she said softly.
Something shifted in his eyes.
Not shock.
Interest.
"You're serious."
"Completely."
Shen Wei studied her for a long moment.
Then, slowly—
"Three months," he said.
Lin An frowned slightly. "What?"
"A contract marriage. Three months."
Her pulse quickened.
That timeline—
matched the video.
"And after that?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Then we see if you're still alive."
A chill ran through her.
Was that a joke—
or something else?
"And what do I get?" he continued.
Lin An met his gaze.
"Truth."
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
"Deal."
Everything moved too fast.
Too smoothly.
By the next day, Lin An was standing inside Shen Wei's house.
Cold. Minimal. Perfect.
No unnecessary details.
No personal traces.
"You live alone?" she asked.
"Yes."
Of course he did.
She walked further inside, her eyes scanning everything instinctively.
Every corner.
Every shadow.
Three days.
She only had three days.
"Your room is upstairs," he said.
She nodded and started walking.
But as she passed him—
her eyes flickered down.
The ring.
Still there.
Her fingers curled slightly.
Sleep didn't come.
Lin An lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Listening.
Every small sound felt amplified.
Every shift of air made her tense.
At 2:13 AM—
she heard footsteps.
Her breath caught.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming from the hallway.
Stopping right outside her door.
Her fingers clenched the sheets.
The handle turned.
The door opened.
Shen Wei stood there.
In the dark.
"What are you doing?" she asked quietly.
He didn't answer immediately.
His gaze moved across the room—
before settling on her.
"You're awake."
"I could say the same."
A pause.
"I heard something," he said.
Their eyes locked.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them believed the other.
And for the first time—
Lin An realized something terrifying.
Maybe the man in the video—
wasn't the only thing she should be afraid of