Song Qi Nian sat at the restaurant table, staring at her phone. No response from Shen Chi Yan. She typed another message with trembling fingers: [I've arrived at the restaurant. When will you be here?]
Silence.
She set her phone down, unwilling to send another message. What if he was in the middle of something important?
The waiter approached her table for the third time, notepad in hand. "Miss, are you ready to order?"
[I'm sorry,] Song Qi Nian said, managing a weak smile. [My husband isn't here yet. I'm still waiting.]
Something in her gentle demeanor and the way she signed her words made the waiter step back with understanding.
Outside, storm clouds had gathered, transforming the clear evening into a gloomy downpour. The promised fireworks display ended, and she watched as other couples hurried past her window, huddled together under umbrellas. Still no sign of Shen Chi Yan.
By 11:30, the hope that had kept her warm all evening had frozen solid in her chest.
"Miss." The waiter approached again, hesitant. "We close at midnight. Will you—"
[Could I stay until then?] She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. [Just until midnight?]
The waiter faltered. How could he refuse? She'd been sitting here for nearly five hours, waiting for a husband who never came.
"Of course," he said softly.
As midnight crept closer, Song Qi Nian clung to her last shred of hope. The dress he'd sent was too beautiful, this restaurant too perfect—surely he wouldn't have orchestrated all this just to leave her waiting. Something must have happened. Something important.
But with each tick of the clock, her hope crumbled further, leaving only the bitter taste of disappointment.
Midnight struck. Her birthday was over, and Shen Chi Yan hadn't appeared—not even a single message.
Her chest felt hollow, but she maintained her composure in front of the restaurant staff. Only when she stepped into the rain did she finally let her tears fall.
How naive she'd been.
Looking back, it was obvious. Shen Chi Yan despised her—why would he bother celebrating her birthday?
The rain drenched her completely as she wandered the streets, until finally she raised her hand to hail a taxi.
"Miss, where to?" The driver caught her eye in the rearview mirror.
She showed him the address on her phone. He nodded and pulled away from the curb.
As they drove, he kept glancing back at her in the mirror, noting her expensive dress, her tear-stained face, her delicate features. Something predatory crept into his expression.
But Song Qi Nian, lost in her misery, didn't notice the shift in his demeanor.
The taxi eventually rolled to a stop. She stepped out, expecting to see her building—instead, she found herself in a dark alley.
Fear jolted through her. Before she could run, a violent push sent her sprawling onto the wet ground.
She landed in dirty water, the cold shocking her system. As she tried to scramble up, the driver's weight pinned her down. His hand caressed her face while she recoiled in terror.
"Pretty girl, did your man stand you up? Don't worry—big brother will give you a proper 520 celebration."
Note: “520 Day, (May 20)” is a unique phenomenon in China. The date 520 is homophonous with the phrase “I love you” in Mandarin (wǔ èr líng)
His breath reeked as he yanked at her clothes, trying to force his mouth on hers.
Song Qi Nian had never imagined a simple taxi ride could turn so dangerous. After everything else tonight, this felt like a cruel joke.
Pure instinct took over. She thrashed against him with every ounce of strength she had, determined to keep his hands off her body.
The alley was a dead zone—even if someone could scream for help, no one would come. And Song Qi Nian couldn't even do that.
The driver had figured this out, and it thrilled him.
"Well, what do you know? A mute girl. Must be my lucky day."
She slapped him hard across the face. He retaliated with two brutal slaps that made her head spin, blood streaming from her nose.
Rain kept falling. Song Qi Nian's face and hair were drenched as she stared up at the man's face in the dim light. She knew she couldn't overpower him. Couldn't run.
She went limp, like she'd given up.
The man's smile grew uglier. "That's better, sweetheart. No need to make this harder than it has to be."
Convinced his mute, helpless victim was subdued, he started fumbling with his belt.
But Song Qi Nian was watching. Waiting.
Her fingers crept along the ground until they found a rock.
When he leaned in to kiss her, she swung. The rock connected with the bridge of his nose with a crack.
He howled, hands flying to his face.
She didn't hesitate. She smashed the rock between his legs. As he crumpled, clutching himself, she shoved him aside and ran.
Her heels caught on the uneven ground and her ankle twisted sharply.
"You bitch! Don't you dare run! I'll kill you when I catch you!"
He was on his feet, yanking up his pants as he charged after her. Despite her throbbing ankle, Song Qi Nian forced herself forward.
Just a little further.
The alley's entrance was right there.
If she could just reach people, reach light—she might survive this.
The streets were deserted at this hour, especially in this part of town.
As she rounded a corner, headlights suddenly flooded her vision. A sports car barreled toward her.
Tires screamed against wet pavement. The impact sent her flying.
Everything went white. She couldn't even process where the pain was coming from.
"Jesus Christ, Ming Xu! How the hell did you hit someone?"
The voice crackled through an earpiece, followed by the sound of several cars pulling up.
Guan Ming Xu felt sick. His mood had been black ever since losing track of his "little sweetheart" at the hotel. She'd disappeared while he'd stepped away for water.
Someone had wiped the security footage. He had no idea who'd taken her or what they'd done to her.
He shouldn't have left her alone in that lobby.
When his friends suggested street racing, he'd jumped at the distraction.
They usually stuck to mountain roads, away from people.
But tonight, for whatever reason, his friends had pushed to race through the city.
Like an idiot, he'd agreed.
And now this.
He stumbled out of his car toward the crumpled figure on the ground.
His friends crowded around. One checked for a pulse. "She's breathing! Quick, we need to get her to a hospital!"
Guan Ming Xu's relief lasted only until he saw her face.
"My little sweetheart!"
The taxi driver, watching from the shadows, saw the group loading her into their expensive cars. He slunk back to his cab and fled.
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