Nana Toki’s voice wasn’t loud, yet in the midnight hush it rang like a lone bell.
“So you mean I killed Lan Duo? That everything here is my staged play?” Chen Ke clenched his fists, eyes sparking like flint against Nana’s gaze. “Qiao Wan, don’t spit poison at me.”
He was the first to reach the scene and find Lan Duo’s body, and under Nana Toki’s framing, suspicion pooled over him like stormwater.
“Think whatever you want. That fantasy came from you, not me.” Nana let his burning stare slide off like rain on stone. She rose, slipped her blood-streaked dagger away, and drifted toward her room like a shadow peeling from a wall. “I didn’t come here to argue. Since we’re all gathered, I’ll cut it blunt. Tomorrow at dawn, I’m leaving alone to find a way out of this forest. As for you… live or die, that’s no longer my river to cross.”
They called her the killer anyway. Fine. Let them face the wolves when she was gone and see how long their fire lasted without her.
“You’re running from guilt, aren’t you, Qiao Wan?” Chen Ke thought she was flinching and moved in to grab her wrist like a man lunging at lightning.
Crack.
The sound of bone slipping out of place sliced the quiet like ice splitting on a winter lake.
Before the other three could see what she’d done, Chen Ke was already on his knees, clutching his ruined hand, his pain a muffled thud in the dark.
“Try that again, and next time it won’t be just your hand.” Her voice was cold as a winter blade. The three behind him met Nana Toki’s eyes and felt a tremor run through their chests, remembering she’d admitted to killing Zhang Kou not long ago—a name that still hung in the air like smoke.
After leaving Lan Duo’s room, Nana didn’t head straight back to rest. She took a wide loop under the moon, hovered in the drone’s field like a hawk studying its prey, then sent a road-stone flying like a meteor and punched the machine from the sky.
If she was going to leave, a metal eye couldn’t be allowed to track her footsteps through the trees. At first, she planned to hack the drone and make it her guide, but the data wouldn’t yield; instead, a brighter ember lit.
The island’s comms signal had come back to life.
No wonder she couldn’t find the jammer—it was hidden inside the drone’s guts, a thorn tucked under steel skin.
When Nana dug out the jammer-like part from its cracked ribs, her heart stayed flat as a calm pond, yet a curl of laughter tugged at her mouth. What a new breed of idiots. Their brains spun like broken gears.
System: “…… So, Host, if you weren’t bored, why’d you disassemble the drone?”
Nana shelved that mess. With the signal breathing again, she pinged Shuyao Qin at the company, asked her to call the police, and to rally people for a rescue to the island.
Shuyao listened to the tale and went still like a deer in floodlight, thinking Nana was filming a prank. After triple-checking the details and finding every word iron, she burned up the lines and reported it.
Nana spent two days feeling her way through the forest’s ribs, never finding the opening. Only after the System nudged her like a breeze under a paper fan did she finally break out of the green maze.
“I swear, you had a map and still said nothing?” On the drive back toward the city lights, Nana asked the System with a heat like summer cicadas whining. “Don’t tell me you ‘forgot.’ That’s useless, and I don’t want to hear it.”
System: “……”
Truth was, the System had been slacking so long it forgot it even had navigation, like a boatman dozing through a storm. Nana cursed under her breath, a sharp snap of temper, then let it go like a pebble into a stream. The result was fine. No point gnawing the bone.
One wave calmed, another reared. Two days after she returned from the island, Nana sat before the TV, watching a report about the male and female leads almost dying in that same forest. Her agent, Sister Zhou, dropped bad news like a frost: the Legend crew’s lead, Li Yu, was dead. He’d killed himself in his own apartment building. The reason was foggy; the police hadn’t pierced it yet.
With Li Yu gone, the thread to a possible mastermind named Trollop snapped like a kite string in wind. Nana’s anger surged, a black cloud rolling over the city in her chest. The world just liked taking swipes at her, didn’t it?
Worse, the entire Legend team vanished into silence, like a troupe swallowed by the sea. Root-tracing was out of reach.
Annoyance beat in her like a drum. The TV flickered, then a breaking bulletin slid in, the anchor’s voice clean as glass. “Urgent news. The mysterious disappearance on the offshore island has moved forward. Two film actors were found at 7:32 a.m. today in the forest of that island, not far from the city. According to both victims, the shoot was a premeditated murder. Three male actors have been killed in the woods, which shows the killer’s brutality. The murderer remains at large. XX Satellite TV reminds you to travel safely and avoid unnecessary harm.”
Watching the broadcast, Nana’s expression darkened, night ink washing over it.
Blessing never comes in pairs; misfortune travels like a flock of crows. The treatment for a “vicious supporting actress”? She almost laughed at the bitter taste.
Even without powers, those urban-plane leads clawed through the island and lived. Plot armor gleamed like a shield in sunlight.
Back home, Nana sifted through new scraps on Chi Mu and Chen Ke. Surprise struck like a cold splash: Chen Ke had been disfigured.
On the second day after Nana split from the protagonists, Qian Duo—the banker role—was killed. The weapon was the small knife hidden in Chen Ke’s room. Even Chi Mu, who had defended Chen Ke like a tree against wind, started to sway. Chen Ke, in turn, suspected Chi Mu had found the knife while Chen Ke slept. Ever since Zhang Kou’s death, Chi Mu had been sleeping in Chen Ke’s room. The hiding place for the knife was no secret to him.
Two people living under one roof grew thorns toward each other. The real killer slid in through that crack like mist. Chi Mu got off with light wounds. Chen Ke was wrecked. His handsome face was carved up by a knife, and his body carried deep cuts like storm-slashed bark. Even if the wounds healed, his lower half would be mostly gone to ruin.
His future was ash.
Nana took time, now and then, to visit Chen Ke in secret, her shadow stepping through hospital lights. She saw the truth with her own eyes: he could barely move, a man pinned by fate. After that, she let the matter cool and stopped spending thought on him.
What she hadn’t expected was the true killer: Jiang Shi, the actor playing an unemployed drifter. She’d thought it was someone else. But the water had cleared. If Jiang Shi was the blade, he should know something about Li Yu’s superior. He hadn’t been caught yet. That meant Nana still had a trail to hunt.
So her days became a braid: taking roles, shooting under studio suns, and stealing hours to chase Jiang Shi’s shadow through the city’s alleys. On Shuyao Qin’s side, the company grew steadier, the tide rising under Nana’s silent push.
“Shuyao, once your company settles in a few days, let’s go public.” The thought had lived in Nana’s heart like a lantern. Work and chaos had kept her hands full; tonight, she set the light on the table.
Shuyao had lived with Nana’s rhythm long enough to shed her old shyness. Hearing that, a few extra beats tapped in her chest like rain on bamboo, but no big waves rose. She even felt the warmth of an old married couple’s ease, like tea that’s been steeped just right.
“Why so sudden?” Night wrapped the room as they ate, steam rising from the dishes like clouds from hills. “Isn’t this fine too? We live together anyway. If we announce it, the agent will have a lot to juggle.”
It wasn’t that Shuyao feared going public. Nana’s current status would stir heat like oil on flame, and their love was between women. Whether fans would accept it was a coin tossed into wind—except for the ones who loved sapphic sugar.
“I talked to Sister Zhou. She respects my choice.” Nana set down her chopsticks, lifted her gaze, and met her lover’s eyes with a quiet fire. “Whether fans buy it or not isn’t my concern. The one I love is you, not them.”
“And the reason I want it? I don’t want our love to skulk in shadows. I want to tell the world I love you, and I want to walk beside you, under the open sky.”
