Qin Yage ran and ran, clutching her plush toy over her flushed cheeks. Like a raging bull, pedestrians scattered left and right. She couldn’t stop—too mortified. She’d done something so shameless. Aunt Xia always said boys should make the first move.

"Miss, your ticket hasn’t—" The ticket checker barely started before Qin Yage darted inside.

Qin An chased after her. He watched as she blindly dashed into the haunted house. This wasn’t on his itinerary. Qin Yage always claimed she wasn’t scared, but deep down, she was terrified. Now, she’d have restless nights for days.

The haunted house was a couples’ attraction. Pairs entered to strengthen bonds—girls would cling to boys in fear.

Eerie music echoed. A dark, endless corridor stretched ahead. Flickering lights dangled precariously. Cobwebs and skulls littered the path.

Qin Yage slowed the moment she entered the gloom. She gripped her plush toy tightly, trembling. "Brother... where are you?" she whispered.

She glanced back. Only darkness. The entrance was far behind.

She crept forward, hearing only her echoing footsteps and ghostly wails.

Shadows began to move on the walls. Qin Yage steeled herself, covering her head with the plush toy and sprinting. But after two seconds, she tripped over a bloody hand reaching from the floor.

"Help me."

"Ahhh!"

Qin An finally shook off the ticket checker. He tossed the couple’s tickets aside and charged in. He’d heard Qin Yage’s scream. Unease gnawed at him.

Qin Yage fell face-first. Her plush toy cushioned the impact, sparing her pretty face. But her calf scraped raw. She winced in pain. The cold, lifeless hand still clutched her leg.

Qin Yage crumpled to her knees, sobbing softly.

Qin An sprinted deeper. Girls’ cries mixed with a familiar metallic scent—blood. His anxiety spiked. Yage, you can’t be hurt. If you are, I’ll bury this world with you.

"Wah... wah..." Her broken sobs tugged at the heart.

Qin An approached slowly. Qin Yage lifted her head. Her face was pale, bloodless. Her eyes were swollen like mosquito bites. Seeing her brother, her sobs quieted, but her shoulders still shook.

She tried to stand. Pain shot through her calf. She stumbled forward—into Qin An’s small but warm chest.

He held her tight with his left arm, stroking her hair gently with his right. "Are you okay?"

"Brother... it’s so scary."

"I’m here. Nothing will happen."

Qin An spotted the dead hand gripping her ankle. It was covered in real blood, darkened from oxidation.

He kicked it away and lifted Qin Yage to leave.

A distant scream cut through: "Let me go!"

Both froze. They recognized that voice—Dongfang Keian, the young lady they’d left at home.

"Brother, we have to check!" Qin Yage’s voice trembled, but her eyes were resolute.

Qin An carried her toward the exit. The path brightened slightly—a gray tunnel set. Far ahead, a half-body lay in a pool of blood.

The thick scent of blood hit Qin An. This wasn’t ketchup.

"Lean on my back. Don’t look."

"Mm..." Qin Yage closed her eyes, resting her head against him. She nuzzled softly. His back wasn’t broad, a bit bony—but magical. It banished her fear.

"Sorry, Brother. I dirtied the plush toy."

"It’s fine. I’ll get you a bigger one later."

"I don’t want the biggest. Just one from you."

Qin An didn’t take the exit. He followed the blood trail to a plain-looking wall. He kicked it—thud thud. Hollow.

He spotted the trigger: an ugly, lone stone on the floor. Obvious. Too obvious. But as he turned the switch, he hesitated.

"Brother, what’s wrong?" Qin Yage asked, sensing his pause.

He smirked. "Nothing."

What was he afraid of?

He twisted the switch. The wall creaked upward.

A crooked tunnel appeared, unpaved, overgrown with weeds.

"This craftsmanship... barely feels like a secret passage!" Qin An thought it amateurish—a hobbyist’s joke.

The tunnel was silent. Flickering bulbs lit the way. Qin An expected screams from his sister. Instead, only steady breathing came from his back.

He smiled faintly and said nothing.

Dim light glowed ahead—a tiny white speck. Dust floated in its soft rays.

Closer to the exit, Qin An grew cautious. He trained hard daily. He wished for a normal kid’s life. But darkness taught him: peace hid rot. To protect their quiet days, he had to grow stronger. Stronger than before.

He crouched in the corner, peering out sideways.

Outside lay Nan’an City’s old docks. Historic, but years ago, a large new ship sank unexpectedly. Rumors of ghosts spread. The government built a new dock under pressure. This land was sold to a Mr. An, who later built Happy Land for his daughter.

"Tian Tai, killing those people—will there be trouble? Our employer only wanted the girl kidnapped," a man in blue casuals asked.

"No trouble at all, Luo Quan. When I learned this place was run by that An guy, I was thrilled. If not for the job, I’d kill more."

"Really no trouble?" Luo Quan whispered. Fresh from hunter school, this was his first real mission. Training kills were in darkness; this was daylight.

"None. After this job, I’ll finish An Tie." Tian Tai grinned wickedly. "You fled north, but so what? Last time, your wife and my woman took bullets for you. Who’ll stop my twin guns now? You’re just a businessman."

"Here. Take her." Tian Tai tossed Dongfang Keian to the ground. The suited man jumped, catching her.

He snapped, "Careful! If she’s damaged, I’ll dock your pay!"

"Dock my pay?" Tian Tai drawled, pulling out a gun.

The man laughed nervously. "No, no! Here’s the money—"

Qin An’s mind raced. How to save Dongfang Keian?

A voice shattered the silence—sudden, sharp.

"Lü Zhiyuan! How dare you touch my daughter without my permission?"

Far away, Lü Zhiyuan dropped the money case on his foot, numb to the pain.