Qin An had just stood up to stretch when Huang Jiajun let out a sharp cry of pain.

She’d only meant to fetch water from the stream near the woods. Instead, a scar-faced middle-aged man burst from the trees and knocked her over. He wore a hiking backpack, looking like an outdoor enthusiast gone feral. A bald man followed, cursing under his breath.

Huang Jiajun clutched her throbbing forehead as she struggled up. Qin An’s gut twisted with dread—the TV warnings echoed in his ears. In that instant, Tong Tong had already rushed over, dragging Pupils with her. "Jiajun! Are you okay? How could you walk like that? Didn’t you see the kids?" she demanded, voice trembling with righteous fury.

*That reckless fool.* Qin An’s warning died on his lips.

"Perfect targets," the bald man chuckled. The intel was dead-on.

Tong Tong’s unease spiked under their vicious stares. She tried pulling Huang Jiajun back—but yelped as the scar-faced man yanked her close. A black pistol pressed against her skull.

"Nobody moves! Unless you want this gun to ‘accidentally’ fire."

His shout froze the crowd. The bald man seized Huang Jiajun and Pupils with meaty hands, his own pistol glinting at his waist. The two thugs backed toward the mountains, dragging three hostages—a woman and two girls—before twenty stunned onlookers. Hands shot up. Eyes widened. No one dared breathe. *Life’s precious.*

Huang Jiajun trembled in the bald man’s grip, tears streaming down her face. Her gaze locked onto Qin An, but she stayed silent.

Then Qin An raised his hands and stepped forward.

He wouldn’t risk his neck for Tong Tong the hothead or Huang Jiajun the airhead. But Pupils—that doll-like girl who clung to him for no reason—had burrowed into his heart. He couldn’t let her get hurt. That was enough.

"Halt! What’re you doing? Got a death wish?" The scar-faced man barked, though he relaxed seeing just a kid approaching.

Qin An sucked in a shaky breath, forcing his face into a mask of fear.

"I-I just... wanted to swap places with them." He pointed at the two girls in the bald man’s arms.

Silence shattered. Bandits, hostages, bystanders—all stared, dumbfounded. Then the thugs burst out laughing. "Hell, I’ve been a criminal for years, but today I meet a Good Samaritan! Spit it out, kid—what’s your real game? Playing hero for pretty girls? Stop right there, or I’ll blow your brains out!"

Qin An froze. He pointed at Pupils, then Huang Jiajun. "They’re my sisters. A brother protects his sisters."

He inched forward, limbs trembling. The bandits exchanged uncertain glances—until Huang Quanmin, lurking nearby, blurted out: "W-wait! I’m from the Huang family! Release them, or you won’t leave this mountain alive!"

Huang Quanmin—Huang Quantian’s younger brother, a playboy and the weakest link in his clan—had long coveted the beautiful, vulnerable widow Tong Tong. Her connections made her irresistible. The family even encouraged his pursuit. *Now’s my chance to be her hero.*

But the villains ignored his script.

"Move another inch, and you’re dead meat!" The scar-faced man swung his gun toward Huang Quanmin. The man flinched, hands shooting up. *Chasing women’s pointless if you’re dead.*

Meanwhile, Qin An closed the distance.

"Brother Dao," the bald man muttered, "let’s swap the sobbing one for this kid. She’s not our target anyway. If he double-crosses us, we still have a hostage. That guy’s slippery."

*Double-cross...* The scar-faced man’s pulse spiked. *Let the kid play hero. He’d make a good human shield too.*

"Don’t! I don’t want to swap!" Huang Jiajun wailed.

Her scream sealed her fate.

"Shut your mouth!" The scar-faced man shoved Qin An forward, gun jammed against his temple. The bald man dropped Huang Jiajun—she hit the ground with a pained gasp.

Qin An grasped Pupils’ hand. "It’s okay. Trust me."

She nodded silently. The fear in her eyes faded.

By afternoon, storm clouds gathered. Southern summers clung stubbornly. The bandits herded their hostages like sheep. Tong Tong faltered, exhausted. Qin An—trained daily like in his past life—strode easily. Pupils rode in his arms; Tong Tong had tried carrying her but lacked the strength.

The thugs grilled Qin An. He played the terrified child, voice cracking, while fishing for intel. It all traced back to the young, beautiful deputy education director. These men? Just migrant workers stiffed by their boss. They’d killed him in a rage and been fugitives ever since.

Midnight. Pitch black.

Rain hammered the tent like cymbals crashing. Pupils pressed against Qin An’s back, shivering. Water seeped through the fabric, chilling them despite late spring’s warmth.

"An... where’s Mama?"

Trapped together, ropes biting their wrists, the two children sat huddled. Qin An tested his bonds. *Sloppy knots. Easy to slip—but they still have a hostage. No weapons. No strength to fight head-on.*

He felt Pupils’ gaze in the dark. Leaning down, he touched his forehead to hers. "We’ll be fine."

Minutes later, the bald man shoved in a bound Tong Tong. Her clothes were soaked but intact.

Pupils soon slept against Qin An, worn out. Tong Tong stayed rigid with terror. *Chen Yang—the man I once loved—ordered this kidnapping. He’s coming tonight. They want me to cooperate... but escaping wolves only means falling into tigers’ jaws.*

When Qin An suddenly pressed close, she flinched—then froze. His fingers worked at her ropes.

*He’s freeing me!* Her heart hammered. No time to wonder how he’d escaped. *If my hands are free... I can fight. For Pupils’ sake.*

Outside, flashlight beams cut through the rain. The bandits signaled Tong Tong to stay put before stepping out.

"Chen Ge, why bring so many men? Just two women!"

Chen Yang smirked, lighting a cigar. "Where are they?"

"Inside. Where’s the money?"

A suited man placed a briefcase in the mud. The bald man flipped it open, greedily counting bills under the flashlight. Raindrops pattered on the cash like heavenly music.

"Dao Ge—it’s real."

The scar-faced man’s shoulders relaxed. Chen Yang’s smile turned icy. "Bring them out. Now."

"We held up our end! Let us go!"

Chen Yang leveled an M9 pistol. "Prove you’re not lying. Don’t test me."

The scar-faced man fired a warning shot into the sky. Chen Yang’s pupils dilated. He crushed his cigar.

Black-clad men emerged from the grass, guns glinting. Danger thickened the air.

"Damn it! Should’ve taken that woman first—"

"Not exactly trustworthy partners, are we?"

"You son of a—"

Gunfire ripped through the night. Blood mingled with rain. Crimson stained the bills—a grotesque masterpiece.

"Dao Ge!" The bald man reached for his gun—and collapsed in a pool of blood.

Chen Yang blew smoke from his barrel like a cowboy. "Killed fugitive murderers. Rescued hostages. Neat."

Inside the tent, Qin An heard the shots. Tong Tong thrust a pistol into his hands, trembling. "Take Pupils and run. I’ll distract them."

Qin An snatched the gun. "You take your daughter. I’ll draw them away."

"But..."

Qin An picked up a sharp dagger, feeling a bit more secure. "If you want to live, stop whining. At least my hand holding the gun won’t shake—your survival odds are better. He might spare me since I’m not tied to you. Who knows? You stupid woman, just don’t get in my way."

Startled by the sudden scolding, tears welled up in Tong Tong’s eyes. She silently picked up Pupils and followed Qin An without a word.

"Tong Tong, I know you’re in there. Come out now! If you step out today, I can still guarantee safety for you and your daughter. Delay, and who knows how many men will have their way with you both."

Hearing this, Tong Tong’s body trembled uncontrollably.

Qin An walked out of the tent as if nothing had happened.

"Kid, seen a pretty woman and a girl?"

"Yeah. They were captured with me, but hidden in the woods."

"Is that so? Lying’s bad for a kid like you. Or you won’t see tomorrow’s sun."

The dark gun muzzle aimed at Qin An, but his face showed no trace of panic.

Chen Yang gestured: take him out.

A burly man in black swung his gun barrel. Just as he pulled the trigger, a spark flashed ahead.

With a soft *thud*, like the bandit he’d killed earlier, the bullet shot into his forehead, spraying blood as it exited his skull.

His life ended at that flashing spark.

"I hate threats most. And I hate guns pointed at me even more..."

A faint, childish voice drifted through the night.