At the tennis court, first-year club members gathered scattered balls. After bidding her teammates farewell, Shiyue left.

As usual, she headed to Yichen’s tutoring spot to wait. Their schedules aligned perfectly—she never waited over a minute.

(*I’ll ask him out the moment we meet.*)

Shiyue walked with her backpack and racket, mulling over how to invite Yichen.

(*Tonight? Alone together might be better. But what if he says no?*)

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She shook her head.

(*He probably won’t refuse. Tomorrow’s Saturday—we were already set to practice tennis. But… he just left the hospital. Is it too soon? He might need fresh air after being cooped up.*)

A faint smile touched Shiyue’s lips.

(*I… like Yichen.*)

She silently repeated it, confirming her feelings.

(*I truly like him. No more hesitation. If he agrees to tomorrow, I’ll confess.*)

Her cheeks flushed warm. She clenched her fists lightly, resolve hardening.

***

Shiyue and Yichen first met the summer after middle school graduation. Her family’s poverty forced her to sell drinks at a bar. A regular bottle earned her dozens of yuan; with wealthy clients, she could make thousands. Monthly, she scraped together nearly 3,000 yuan.

One evening that summer, she encountered Yichen.

As usual, Shiyue promoted drinks to customers. She spotted a table of boys around fifteen, all in flashy clothes radiating arrogance. Experience told her these young masters were trouble—new to bars but desperate to show off, reckless and quick to cause scenes. She deliberately avoided them.

Their flashy demeanor drew girls to their table. Yet the boy in the center sat alone. He seemed painfully stiff; girls who approached were shoved away with disgust, as if none measured up.

Shiyue paused at a distance to watch. The other boys grinned, whispering to him. He scowled defiantly, then stood abruptly, scanning the bar. His gaze locked onto Shiyue. He strode over. Whistles erupted from his friends.

Seeing him approach, Shiyue wanted to flee—but he was already there.

“Hey. I’m Lin Yichen. Come keep me company.”

“Sorry, I’m busy right now.”

Shiyue declined politely.

Yichen’s face flushed with annoyance at the rejection.

“What? How much? Name your price.”

“I really can’t—”

“I don’t care! You’re coming with me!”

Afraid of his temper, Shiyue reluctantly agreed.

She sat beside Yichen. At first, she simply chatted and sipped drinks. Seeing no advances, she relaxed slightly.

“Yichen, loosen up!” A red-haired boy laughed. His arm draped over a girl’s shoulders, his hand roaming her body. She moaned on cue. Though Yichen’s age, his face held sharp malice. “Like this!”

“Boring,” Yichen muttered, blushing.

But urged by friends, he reached out. His hand landed on Shiyue’s back. She froze, trembling.

“Pathetic! Watch me,” the red-haired boy egged on.

Yichen frowned, hesitated, then slid his hand toward Shiyue’s thigh.

She instinctively shoved it away. Yichen stared, shocked.

“Sorry. I’m leaving.”

Shiyue stood.

Yichen grabbed her wrist.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

She turned to his flushed, annoyed face.

“Find someone else. I don’t do that.”

Yichen scowled.

“I want you. Sit down. How much?”

“It’s not about money! I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Aren’t all bar girls here for cash? What’s wrong with a touch?”

“We’re done.”

Shiyue yanked her arm, but he held tight.

A boy whistled. “Haha, beauty, just give in. Yichen’s the most stubborn here.”

“Shut up! I’ll handle this!” Yichen snapped.

He yanked Shiyue toward the seat. They struggled.

Crash! Crash!

Beer bottles toppled. The manager rushed over.

“Shiyue Zhao! What’s this?”

“Manager, he won’t let me go!” Shiyue pointed angrily.

The manager eyed the mess and the boys, then beamed ingratiatingly at Yichen.

“Ah, apologies! Our staff is clumsy. Please forgive us. Shiyue Zhao! You’re fired! Leave now!”

“Manager, I—”

“No excuses! Get out!”

He glared fiercely, cutting her off. Tears spilled down Shiyue’s cheeks. Knowing protests were useless, she turned away.

In the changing room, Shiyue swapped uniforms. As she exited, the manager waited—his harshness replaced by regret.

“Shiyue, sorry. I had no choice. That red-haired kid’s family… they’re gang-connected. We can’t risk it.”

(*What about me?*)

Shiyue bit back the scream.

“Here’s your pay. Find safer work.”

She took the envelope silently and left.

Her family was drowning. Father gone. Mother bedridden, needing medicine. A younger brother and sister to feed. Shiyue had nearly skipped high school. Now, without this job, even daily meals were uncertain.

Exhausted from days caring for family and nights at the bar, Shiyue trudged down the dimly lit street at 11 PM. Her steps wobbled. Suddenly, figures blocked her path.

Panic flashed across her face. Local thugs. She stepped back—but two grabbed her shoulders, dragging her into an alley.

“Haha, jackpot tonight!”

“Cutie, didn’t Mom teach you not to walk alone?” The scar-faced leader leaned close. Shiyue twisted her face away.

“Let go! I’ll call the police!”

The thugs roared with laughter.

“Boss, she said police!”

He silenced them with a gesture, leering.

“Fine. After I’m done and snap photos, try reporting. Book a big room! Call the crew—share the fun!”

“Got it, boss! She’s gorgeous, hehe.” One thug sprinted off.

“Tie her up. Sack her. Leave air holes.”

Hands seized Shiyue.

“Stop! Let me go!”

Tears streamed as she struggled—uselessly against multiple men.

(*Is this how it ends…*)

Despair swallowed her.

“Help! Kidnapping over here!”

A shout cut through the alley. A boy stood at the entrance, pointing wildly and waving for attention.

“Tch. Run!” the thugs grumbled, scattering.

Shiyue slumped against the wall.

“Hey. You okay?”

That voice… Shiyue looked up. Lin Yichen—the one who cost her job.

“Here to laugh at me?” she sneered, bitter at her own fate: fired by him, kidnapped, now “saved” by him.

(*Is he playing games with me?*)

Resentment burned. Why had she fallen so low?

Yichen frowned at her tone.

“When saved, you thank people. My sister says so.”

Shiyue’s eyes widened. Lectured by *him*? Frustration surged.

“If not for you, I wouldn’t be here!”

“Sorry…”

“Huh?”

Stunned—this entitled rich boy actually apologized?

Dizziness crashed over her. She fainted.

“Hey! Wake up!”

Yichen caught her. Unconscious, her face burned with fever. He glanced around, hesitated, then hoisted her onto his back, walking toward home.