Qingran had barely turned when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest.
Mr. Fang’s voice was a low murmur against her ear. "Leaving so soon?"
His free hand slid down her side, slow and deliberate, before slipping beneath her coat.
Qingran stiffened, her pulse steady but her mind sharpening into a lethal edge.
"You act fearless," he mused, his fingers grazing the curve of her hip. "But I can feel it—you’re not unaffected, are you?"
His grip tightened as he lowered his head, his breath warm against her skin. "You used my na, and you think you can just walk away? The won who use my na know what that ans." His lips brushed against her temple as his hand wandered lower. "If you didn’t, then allow to teach you."
Qingran’s stomach curled with disgust, but her expression remained unreadable.
His fingers inched toward the waistband of her pants.
Enough.
In one swift motion, she shifted her weight, angling her body just enough to free her leg.
Then, with practiced precision, she reached down, fingers brushing against cool steel—the blade strapped against her inner thigh.
Mr. Fang tilted her chin up, his lips barely an inch from hers.
Qingran’s fingers curled around the hilt.
And then she drove the knife straight into his side.
A sharp breath escaped him, more shock than pain, as the blade sank deep.
His hold on her loosened.
Qingran didn’t hesitate. She twisted the knife rcilessly, her voice cold.
"You should’ve known better than to gamble on a ga where you don’t know all the rules."
Mr. Fang let out a harsh grunt, staggering back as blood seeped through his shirt.
His n surged forward at the sight, but Qingran was already moving, stepping away with fluid ease, her knife gleaming under the dim lights.
Her gaze flicked to the nearest guard. "Unless you want to watch him bleed out, I’d suggest you think carefully before taking another step."
They hesitated.
Mr. Fang clutched his side, his expression a mix of fury and sothing else—sothing almost intrigued.
Qingran wiped the blade against her coat before tucking it back in place.
Then, without another word, she turned and walked out, the scent of blood still clinging to the air.
Qingran sped up, her pulse steady despite the voices behind her growing louder. She didn’t need to turn around to know Mr. Fang n were following her—she had pissed him off, after all.
She exhaled through her nose, adjusting her coat slightly. She needed to disappear before this turned into an even bigger ss.
But just as she turned a corner, she slamd into sothing solid.
A familiar hand grabbed her arm, steadying her.
Her head snapped up, only to be t with Feng Yizhou’s furious gaze.
"Where the fuck have you been?" His grip was firm, his voice cutting and sharp. "Why didn’t you tell you were heading out?"
Before she could respond, his expression darkened even further. His sharp eyes flickered to her coat—where she had tucked away the stacks of money.
His voice dropped lower, dangerously quiet.
"Why are you in a casino?"
Qingran blinked. "I’m currently being chased—"
Feng Yizhou’s jaw tightened as he turned his head.
She followed his gaze, finally glancing back.
A group of n were closing in fast.
And behind them, Fang Moying stumbled forward, blood soaking through his expensive suit where she had stabbed him. His face was twisted with pain and fury.
"Fang Moying?" Feng Yizhou’s voice dropped, cold and sharp.
"Feng Yizhou?" Fang Moying’s gaze snapped to him in recognition.
Feng Yizhou’s fingers twitched against her arm, his expression unreadable. Then he turned back to her, his gaze slicing through her.
His voice was like ice. "Did you steal from him?"
"Of course not." Qingran huffed, shaking him off. "I just used his na to enter the casino. Who knew he would be a rapist?"
Feng Yizhou’s entire body went still.
Sothing cold and lethal settled in his gaze.
Then, without looking away from Fang Moying, he reached up and wiped his hand down his face once, exhaling sharply through his nose.
"She belongs to ." His voice was low, controlled—but the fury underneath was unmistakable. "You can’t have her."
His lips curled slightly, but there was no amusent in his expression.
"As for your wounds," he said flatly, "I’ll pay for your hospital bills."
Fang Moying’s face twisted with rage.
"Feng Yizhou, you bastard!"
Fang Moying’s face twisted with rage. The blood seeping from his wound had slowed, but his fury hadn’t. He took an unsteady step forward, his n tense behind him.
"You think you can just brush this off with money?" His voice was low, dangerous. "She used my na, she entered my casino, and then she fucking stabbed —"
Feng Yizhou’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on Qingran tightened just slightly.
"So?" His voice was almost bored, but there was an underlying sharpness to it.
Fang Moying’s lips curled. "So, I’m not letting her walk away that easily."
Qingran sighed lightly, adjusting her coat. "I don’t have ti for this."
Fang Moying’s gaze snapped to her, his fury deepening. "You—"
Feng Yizhou shifted slightly, stepping between them. His presence was imposing, his gaze as sharp as a blade.
"I don’t care about your bullshit rules," he said flatly. "You want compensation? I’ll pay. You want revenge?" He tilted his head slightly. "Then try. Take one step so I can snuff out that useless life of yours."
The words hung in the air, cold and taunting.
Fang Moying’s n tensed. The tension crackled, sharp and dangerous.
But Fang Moying wasn’t stupid. He knew who he was dealing with.
His eyes flickered between Qingran and Feng Yizhou, his fingers twitching slightly.
"Feng Yizhou," he said, voice low. "Don’t push ."
Feng Yizhou’s lips curved, but his eyes were rciless. "I wouldn’t dream of it."
For a long mont, no one moved.
Then Fang Moying exhaled sharply, spitting blood to the side. "Fine. But don’t expect this to be over."
He turned, motioning to his n. "Let’s go."
The group hesitated for a beat before following, their expressions dark.
Qingran watched them go, then clicked her tongue. "That was annoying."
Feng Yizhou didn’t say anything.
His grip on her wrist didn’t loosen either.
She looked up at him. "What?"
His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he spoke.
"You went out alone, gambled, used a na that wasn’t yours, and nearly got yourself raped," he said, his voice deceptively calm.
Qingran blinked. "Well, when you put it like that—"
Feng Yizhou exhaled sharply, then suddenly pulled her forward.
Before she could react, he shoved her against the nearest wall.
She barely had ti to process the movent before his hand grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His grip wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either.
His voice was low, cold. "Do you think this is a joke?"
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