As Da Mao heard my voice, he quickened his pace, but his bulky frame, coupled with the weight of the person in his arms, meant he could never outrun me. As I closed the distance, I spotted a grimy wooden plank discarded on the ground. Without hesitation, I bent down to snatch it up, fully aware that Da Mao was a formidable fighter—otherwise, HOUZI wouldn’t have taken him so seriously.

By the time I straightened, Da Mao had turned to face me, setting Wang Yao down beside him. Seeing that he was unarmed, a surge of confidence steadied my resolve. Without exchanging a single word, I lunged forward, swinging the plank with all my might. The impact landed squarely on his neck with a dull, resounding thud.

A flicker of triumph shot through me—only for it to be instantly extinguished by a sudden, searing chill in my abdomen. A moment later, pain erupted through my core, stealing the strength from my limbs. I glanced downward, my breath hitching at the sight of the blade now embedded in my stomach.

Da Mao let out a cold chuckle, releasing the knife’s hilt. “You thought you could stop me?” he sneered.

My knees buckled, but not in surrender—my body simply refused to hold me upright. It was my first time being stabbed, and with no experience to draw from, my instincts took over. My hands clamped down over the wound, futilely trying to stem the steady stream of blood trickling between my fingers. The blade remained lodged in my flesh, unmoving, its cruel presence growing heavier by the second.

But even through the agony, I knew one thing for certain: men like Da Mao and HOUZI might have the guts to wield a knife, but they weren’t the kind to deal a fatal blow.

HOUZI had once told me that as long as I didn’t bleed out, even if my intestines were spilling out, I could still be saved.

So despite the pain, I wasn’t afraid. My fear wasn’t for myself—it was for Wang Yao.

As Da Mao turned to leave, I reached out and clutched his leg with every ounce of strength I had left.

He glanced down at me before driving his foot into the side of my head. My vision swam, stars bursting across my sight, but I refused to let go.

Wang Yao’s terrified screams rang out just a few feet away. “Zuo Fei! Zuo Fei! Da Mao, if you dare lay another finger on him, I’ll have my brother hunt you down and kill you!”

But Da Mao paid her no heed. He was beyond reason now, having cast aside all restraint. If he had the audacity to drug her, then there was truly nothing he wouldn’t do. The phrase “blinded by lust” wasn’t just a poetic turn of phrase—it was a grim reality.

His kicks kept coming, each one more vicious than the last, as though he wouldn’t stop until I finally released my grip.

Wang Yao’s cries grew more desperate. Like Lin Ke’er before her, she had lost control of her limbs but could still speak.

I had no idea how many times I’d been struck. My consciousness wavered, her voice growing fainter, as though it came from the other end of a vast, endless void. I knew I was on the verge of passing out, yet I clung to Da Mao’s leg with sheer force of will.

A bitter thought filled my mind—who would come to save us now?

HOUZI and the others were still at school, undoubtedly detained by the security team.

HOUZI, you miscalculated this time. Da Mao is capable of anything!

Then, out of nowhere—BANG!

A deep, heavy impact rang through the alley. The sound seemed distant, muffled, as if reaching me through layers of fog.

I struggled to lift my head.

Another figure had entered the fray, engaged in a brutal fight with Da Mao.

Tall and lean, with long bangs that nearly concealed his eyes—except his eyes weren’t hidden at all. They burned with a savage intensity.

A baseball bat glinted in his grip, descending on Da Mao’s skull with relentless force.

Da Mao attempted to fight back at first, but it wasn’t long before he crumpled, his body going limp.

Yet his attacker did not relent. He continued striking, as if intent on beating him to death.

Only after a long moment did he finally straighten and turn toward me.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Zuo Fei,” I croaked.

“What’s your connection to HOUZI?”

“Brothers,” I forced out, my voice fractured into two labored syllables.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“I’m Mao Mao,” he replied. “HOUZI told me to keep an eye on Wang Yao.”

I gave a weak nod. “Mao Mao from No. 7 High—I know you.”

Then, at last, darkness claimed me.

My final thought before unconsciousness was:

So HOUZI had planned for this all along. Would it have killed him to let me in on it earlier? Would it have killed him?!

But despite the frustration, a profound sense of relief settled over me.

Wang Yao was safe.

When I next awoke, I was being lifted onto a stretcher by medical personnel clad in crisp white coats.

Around me, a crowd had gathered—HOUZI, Huang Jie, Zheng Wu, Mao Mao, Lin Ke’er, Liu Yina, Zhang Xuan… They were all there.

“Zuo Fei!”

HOUZI was the first to notice my open eyes.

“Where’s Wang Yao?”

That was the only question that mattered.

“She’s fine. Some friends are watching over her,” he assured me.

I gave a small nod. Then, without warning, a metallic tang filled my throat, and a mouthful of blood spilled past my lips.

I barely had time to register my own shock—how did a stab wound to the stomach make me cough up blood?!—before another wave of agony crashed over me, threatening to drag me under once more.

“Zuo Fei, you’d better hold on, damn it!”

Through the haze of pain, I saw HOUZI’s eyes glisten, moisture pooling at their edges.

The stretcher moved swiftly, but I refused to release my grip on his hand.

“…Buy me some food…” I rasped, before slipping back into oblivion.

Damn, vengeance felt good.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, catching fleeting glimpses of masked surgeons hard at work beneath the harsh glare of the operating room’s overhead lights.

Then, blackness again.

By the time I woke properly, I was lying in a hospital bed. A clear blue sky stretched beyond the window, and a crisp white blanket covered me. An IV was inserted into the back of my hand, its slow drip feeding sustenance into my veins.

Beside me, a girl busied herself at the bedside table, arranging items with meticulous care.

Lin Ke’er.

I let out a faint groan.

She turned immediately, her face lighting up with relief. “You’re awake!”

I gave a slight nod, my throat unbearably dry.

“Here, have some water.” She adjusted the bed so I could sit up, bringing a cup to my lips. The liquid carried a faintly salty taste.

“The doctor said you should drink light saline water for now.”

I nodded again, swallowing carefully.

“What about Wang Yao?” I asked, my voice still hoarse. “She’s alright, isn’t she?”

The moment the words left my lips, regret crept in. Of course, Wang Yao was fine—so many people were watching over her. But my reaction had been a little too concerned, and I couldn't help but wonder if Lin Ke'er would pick up on it.

"Wang Yao is alright. She even came to see you last night, but you were still unconscious. She left a thousand yuan and then left," Lin Ke'er answered calmly, showing no sign of suspicion.

I exhaled in relief and asked, "What about the others? Is Houzi okay?"

"They’ve all gone back to class. I took time off to stay with you. As for Houzi and the others, they’re fine. The Ninth Prince is completely finished, and Da Mao is still in the hospital. But Wang Yao’s brother has made it clear that he intends to destroy Da Mao completely. I doubt Da Mao will even dare to return to school. The rest of them are even less capable—some haven’t shown up for class, while others have already surrendered to Houzi. The Ninth Prince is nothing more than a relic of the past now."

"And the school? They didn’t say anything?"

"Of course they did. Yesterday, all of them were taken to the security office. Apparently, the school authorities were furious and threatened severe punishment. But then Houzi said just one sentence, and the school let them off."

I was intrigued. "What did he say?"

"Houzi asked, 'When the Ninth Prince was extorting protection money, where were you? Did you turn a blind eye because you were getting a cut? Should I give the education bureau a call and ask them to look into it?'"

"The school officials backed down instantly. I’m not sure what kind of deal they made, but in the end, the school covered the students' medical expenses and swept the entire incident under the rug. All Houzi and the others got was a minor disciplinary warning."

I couldn't help but laugh. That was Houzi for you—always goofing around, but when it mattered, he never faltered.

With a sigh, I lay back on the bed, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. Life was good. "Houzi really had it all planned out—getting Wang Yao to lure Da Mao out and posting Mao Mao from Seventh High nearby. If I’d known all this earlier, I wouldn’t have charged in like an idiot."

As soon as I said that, my heart pounded uneasily. It almost sounded like I was trying too hard to explain myself, as if I feared Lin Ke'er might misunderstand. Sure enough, she just stared at me, eyes fixed as if trying to read my soul.

"What?" I forced a laugh, though it came out stiff.

"Zuo Fei, tell me the truth. Do you like Wang Yao?"

"Of course not!" I blurted out, a little too loud. "She’s helped me so many times before. I just felt like I owed her one, so when I heard she was in danger, I ran over. Don't get the wrong idea, okay?"

Even as I said it, I felt a flicker of guilt. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about Wang Yao. I despised men who couldn't be faithful, and I refused to be the kind of person who wanted both the meal in front of him and the one on another’s plate. So I convinced myself that whatever emotions I had toward Wang Yao were purely gratitude—nothing more. Even if there was the faintest trace of affection, I would smother it before it could take root. Lin Ke'er was the only one I wanted to be devoted to.

After all, wasn’t self-control what separated humans from beasts?

Lin Ke'er said nothing, her gaze unwavering as if trying to pierce through my lies.

"It’s true," I insisted, forcing a grin. "I was actually planning to confess to you after we took down the Ninth Prince. You better be ready—don’t make me embarrass myself when the time comes."

Lin Ke'er lowered her head, lost in thought, still silent.

I knew she was overthinking it. Just as I was about to say something to reassure her, the door to the hospital room swung open.

Both Lin Ke'er and I looked up. A man walked in, carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers.

"Zuo Fei, how are you feeling?" he asked with a warm smile, placing the bouquet on my bedside table.

The moment I saw his face, fury ignited within me. It was Yi Zhen.

A weasel paying respects to a hen—he couldn’t possibly have good intentions.

"Lin Ke'er, you're here too," Yi Zhen continued, his smile unwavering.

"Mm," Lin Ke'er replied curtly, clearly uninterested in talking to him.

"I'm just here to visit Zuo Fei. We’re good friends, after all. I didn’t expect to run into you," Yi Zhen said, his eyes lingering on Lin Ke'er.

"Mm. You two chat, I’ll step out for a bit." Lin Ke'er stood up to leave.

"Hey, don’t go," Yi Zhen reached out and grabbed her arm.

That was the last straw.

"Let. Her. Go," I growled.