The silent corridor held only Han Huming’s shuffling figure, his hand braced against the wall as if enduring some hidden agony.

Zhou Lili watched him from the corner, unsurprised.

She’d spiked his wine earlier with a potent stimulant.

He must be writhing in torment by now.

Her heels clicked rapidly as she closed in, her voice dripping honeyed concern against his ear:

"Han Huming, you look awful. Are you alright?"

Han Huming froze. Teeth gritted, he turned his head, voice weak:

"What are *you* doing here?"

"*Me?*" She exhaled warm air near his ear, fingers tracing circles on his chest. "I’m here to help~"

Overcome by temptation, Han Huming slammed her against the wall, hands tearing at her clothes.

But Zhou Lili blocked him with one palm while swiping a keycard at the adjacent door with the other.

She’d timed this perfectly—no way would this madman take her right here in the hallway.

Now that he’d taken the bait, satisfaction flooded her. She’d already pictured herself as mistress of the Khan Family.

The moment the door opened, Han Huming shoved her inside, kicking it shut behind them.

Zhou Lili coiled her arms around his neck, her crimson lips glowing under the dim light.

No man could resist her like this.

"Han Huming, come on~"

"I’m starting now."

His low murmur sent a chill through her. Something felt *wrong*.

His eyes—dark, depthless voids—seemed to swallow her whole.

She tried to scream, but a sharp blow to her neck cut her off. Her eyes rolled back as she crumpled to the floor.

Han Huming dumped her on the bed, all traces of pain vanished from his face.

He’d never swallowed that drugged wine—spat it out the moment Zhou Lili turned away.

And the hotel cameras? Hacked before he’d even entered the restroom. They’d only show what he wanted them to see.

He plucked a pen from Zhou Lili’s pocket—the same device that had captured those men’s scheming voices.

"Miss Zhou," he murmured to her unconscious form, "I’ll be taking this back now."

Lighting an incense stick, he strode to the balcony.

Ten stories up. Enough to make ordinary men’s knees buckle.

Han Huming flipped over the railing—and vanished into the night.

***

For Han Shuyi, this gala was the perfect stage to cement alliances.

His mother had even appeared personally to bolster his status.

The message was clear to every guest: *This* was the true Khan heir. Han Huming meant nothing.

No one here asked what *you* did—they asked who your parents were.

"Han Shao," someone pressed, swirling wine, "what do you *really* think about that imposter? He stole twelve years of your life."

Han Shuyi’s reflection shimmered in his glass. A serene smile played on his lips.

"Think? I hope Han Huming and I can coexist peacefully."

*[But I won’t give him the chance.]*

His smile never wavered. Not once tonight.

The crowd admired his composure.

He drained his glass, scanning the hall.

Han Huming had disappeared. *Where could he be during such a crucial moment?*

Han Shuyi almost hoped someone was setting a trap for him.

He wasn’t the only one searching.

Han Yunxi had been tracking Han Huming while chatting with friends.

When she spotted Zhou Lili approaching him, her pupils contracted sharply—but her mother yanked her away to support Han Shuyi’s performance.

As the Khan Family’s daughter, she couldn’t cause a scene.

Now, panic clawed at her throat.

Han Huming had made many enemies. With his true identity exposed, traps would spring shut.

She couldn’t bear to imagine what awaited him.

Teeth clenched, she lifted her skirt and rushed off to find him.

***

"Has it been long enough?"

"Yeah! Zhou Lili just texted us!"

Three men huddled near the emergency exit, refreshing their phones.

"Han Huming’s probably getting it on with Zhou Lili right now. Perfect time to film!"

"Seriously, who’d ride that bus anyway?"

"Shut up and move!"

They hurried to the room and knocked.

Silence.

Frowns exchanged. Zhou Lili had summoned them—why no answer?

"Can I help you, gentlemen?"

A masked, bespectacled hotel staffer startled them.

"Uh—we forgot our keycard. Open it for us."

"Sorry, sir. Hotel policy forbids—"

"*My* policy overrules yours! My dad owns this place. I’ll fire you on the spot!"

The staffer flinched, fumbling a keycard from his pocket.

The door swung open, releasing a thick wave of incense.

Phones raised eagerly—they froze.

Only Zhou Lili lay alone on the bed.

Behind them, the door *clicked* shut.