In the end, he never told her that he wasn’t simply a bully who preyed on the weak. Everyone would pay the price eventually—but those people wouldn’t die so easily.

His first kill had been… surprisingly easier than he had imagined.

In junior high, the torment by his classmates had escalated far beyond mere teasing or cruel nicknames. They shoved his head into the toilet, stripped him naked in the bathroom, and splashed ink across his back. They did everything cruel, every dark, perverse thing they could think of, and Wei Zanzhou remembered each of their names, etched like fire into his memory.

Still, he excelled. He entered a top provincial high school, finally escaping that suffocating home and living in the dormitory. He spent his spare time working tirelessly to earn money, occasionally even venturing into questionable dealings just to survive.

High school classmates were a different breed. No one mocked him or bullied him; they simply kept their distance, leaving him isolated—but at least he wasn’t openly tormented.

Until the day the seating chart changed. His deskmate was now a girl—a girl who seemed oblivious to the birthmark across his face or the way his bangs fell over his eyes. She treated him as though he were no different from anyone else.

Her name was Zhou Xiang. Bright, cheerful, endlessly curious, she told him stories of her travels, shared jokes, and brought him breakfast in the mornings.

He, like a timid mouse hiding in a dark corner, peeked at her through the shadow of his bangs, unsure how to respond to such unguarded kindness.

One morning, when Zhou Xiang handed him breakfast yet again, Wei Zanzhou couldn’t restrain his question: “Why are you so good to me?”

“Am I really that good to you?” Zhou Xiang asked, puzzled.

Her gaze fell on the breakfast in his hands. “Oh, this? It’s nothing. Just normal for friends to help each other out. Besides, I know you’re working part-time. Helping each other is natural.”

He pursed his lips. “Don’t you mind the birthmark on my face?”

Zhou Xiang paused, then smiled warmly. “Why would I care? It’s just a birthmark.”

“They say it’s unlucky,” he murmured, lowering his eyes.

She slapped his shoulder lightly, firm yet playful. “What are you thinking, young man? That’s just superstition! As someone of the new era, you shouldn’t believe in such nonsense. It’s a part of your body. If it bothers you, you can fix it with cosmetic surgery later. If it doesn’t, you can keep it—and it looks pretty cool anyway.”

From the moment that “rose” had bloomed in his life, the Creator had already planned this encounter—the first spark of his redemption. Zhou Xiang had no idea that her simple words had planted a seed in Wei Zanzhou’s heart, a seed that would grow untamed, shaping the man he would become.

After high school, his family couldn’t afford university, so he dropped out and taught himself stock trading. He worked relentlessly in the big city, quickly rising to become the youngest trader of his firm, and eventually founded his own company.

But his soul was fractured. Even with success, he remained haunted by his inner darkness. So he built a cage for the girl he loved, and when his sickness flared, he hurt her—emotionally, psychologically. And yet, despite the danger, he could never resist the compulsion to possess her entirely, to claim her for himself, utterly and exclusively.
After sharing his story, a shadow seemed to settle over Wei Zanzhou. No matter how strong he appeared now, he had once been fragile—and all the pain he had endured in the past then could never truly heal.

Zhou Xiang stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him and letting his head rest gently on her shoulder. There were moments when she felt conflicted, caught between the fear of his darkness and the pull of his vulnerability. Yet, in that embrace, she wanted nothing more than to comfort him.

That night, Wei Zanzhou even slept in her arms. In the middle of the night, Zhou Xiang woke to the sound of his sobbing—soft, shuddering cries that seemed to tear the darkness out of him. She brushed away the tears clinging to his cheeks and, in that moment, her mind strangely reconciled with the horrors she had seen in the basement. Those people, as cruel and depraved as they were, had met a fate that seemed… inevitable.

If she hadn’t glimpsed that “foolish bastard who coveted her,” as Wei Zanzhou had called him, she might have softened, might have even stayed. But seeing that person, seeing his threat, reminded her why she had to stand by him.

To help Zhou Xiang relax, Wei Zanzhou took her to the mountaintop cliff swing the next day .

Her excitement was palpable; she had always loved the rush of high-altitude thrills. Wei Zanzhou helped her strap into the safety harness and adjusted the equipment. The steel cable lifted her slowly until she hovered parallel to the ground—and then suddenly, she was released, plummeting downward.

The wind whipped across her face, cool and exhilarating, brushing against her temples. Below her stretched layer upon layer of verdant, rolling mountains. She couldn’t help but scream in delight, eyes closed, savoring the sensation of absolute freedom. In that moment, if she let go of the harness, she might have flown—she felt that close to liberation.

Wei Zanzhou watched silently, drinking in the expression on her face, the radiant, untamed joy.

Eventually, Zhou Xiang felt tired of the swing, and the two of them sat side by side atop the mountaintop. She reached out, grasping his hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, almost instinctively.

“Wei Zanzhou… I love you.”

His body stiffened. He turned his head toward her, rigid, and could tell by the tone of her voice that this wasn’t playful or casual—she meant it.

“Xiang… Xiang, you… you said… you love me…” His voice trembled uncontrollably, and tears welled up instantly.

Zhou Xiang met his gaze and nodded firmly.

“Xiangxiang… you really…” Wei Zanzhou choked on the words, unable to believe what he was hearing.

She cupped his face gently and repeated, “Wei Zanzhou, I said, I… love… you.”

He tried to smile, but the tears kept coming. Zhou Xiang pulled him into her arms, and his body shook, his neck bobbing as if trying to absorb every ounce of relief and longing at once. Time seemed to stretch, unmeasured, until finally he stopped convulsing and exhaled shakily.

“Xiangxiang… you wouldn’t be saying this out of pity…” he began cautiously.

“Oh, please,” she said, her voice returning to its usual playful tone. “You’re rich, powerful, and you’ve got a beautiful woman with you. As the beautiful woman who’s supposed to accompany you, why would I pity you?”

Wei Zanzhou said nothing, clearly unconvinced.

She could only stroke his hair gently, like petting a puppy. “Okay, fine. After you told me everything yesterday, yes—I did feel a little sorry for you.”

His heart sank at her admission.

“But!” she added quickly. “This isn’t pity. Call it… tenderness, or heartache, if you like. But I would never confess my feelings out of pity. Believe me—I’m serious.”

Wei Zanzhou finally nodded, swallowing hard, his chest tight with emotion.

On the way back, they held hands tightly, walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

After a long pause, Wei Zanzhou said softly, “Xiangxiang… I regret it.”

Zhou Xiang didn’t answer, seemingly not hearing him, but her grip on his hand never loosened.

From that day on, they lived like any other deeply in-love couple, inseparable each day. Yet Wei Zanzhou’s insecurities lingered; he needed constant reassurance, checking several times a day that she truly loved him.

“Xiangxiang… I always feel like it’s unreal. Are we really together?” he asked one day, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Zhou Xiang chuckled, her hand tightening over his. “Of course we’re together. Otherwise, why would I be playing house with you every day?”

She tilted her head, smiling. “Do you know why it feels unreal to you?”

Wei Zanzhou shook his head, his gaze locked on hers, waiting for the answer.”Because you locked me up here,” Zhou Xiang said, her tone calm but cutting. “You thought that if it was just the two of us, I’d eventually fall for you. And now… now that I truly do, you think it’s unreal, even suspecting that I’m just trying to manipulate you to escape.”

“No, no…” Wei Zanzhou hurriedly tried to explain, but she interrupted him.

“Wei Zanzhou, if you hadn’t imprisoned me… if you had met me outside, pursued me, and I—among millions of people—had chosen you willingly, you wouldn’t feel this way.”

Wei Zanzhou had no words. The truth left him speechless.

“Remember, you said you regretted it that day,” Zhou Xiang continued softly. “It’s not too late now. Let’s leave together. We’ll never be apart.”

Wei Zanzhou hesitated for a brief moment, then let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Xiangxiang… it’s too late. The collar around my neck—made from the latest aerospace materials—is bulletproof and can’t be removed.”

Zhou Xiang didn’t respond.

He glanced at her, voice low, almost questioning, “Xiangxiang… is freedom really that important to you?”

She answered lightly, as if brushing off the weight of the question, “Isn’t it obvious? Who wants to go to jail?”

“Then… which is more important—me or freedom?”

Zhou Xiang didn’t answer. That silence alone was her answer.

That night, Wei Zanzhou slept soundly, unaware that Zhou Xiang had quietly risen. Barefoot, she moved silently through the villa. The sleeping man opened his eyes as she left, but he didn’t follow—perhaps if he had waited even a little longer, the bomb would have gone off.

Half an hour later, the bedroom door creaked again, accompanied by uneven footsteps. Wei Zanzhou sensed danger and sat up. Zhou Xiang rushed to his side, clutching a clean towel to the back of her neck.

“Wei… Zanzhou… we… we can leave,” she said.

Wei Zanzhou rolled out of bed to inspect her, and his eyes widened in alarm. A chunk of flesh had been torn from the back of her neck. Zhou Xiang forced a pale smile at him. “Let’s go… we…” But before she could finish, she collapsed from the pain.

When she woke, Wei Zanzhou was at her side, his eyes red and bloodshot.

“Scared?” she asked teasingly, propping herself up, though the faint smile couldn’t hide the ache in her voice.

Wei Zanzhou didn’t reply, his anger simmering silently.

Zhou Xiang swung her legs over the side of the bed, ready to change and leave.

“Xiangxiang,” he called, his voice softer now, laced with authority. “Come downstairs. A car is coming for you. Wait in the car, okay? I still need to clean the basement.”

“I’ve already cleaned it,” she said pointedly, the weight in her tone carrying more meaning than the words themselves.

Wei Zanzhou paused for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle. “Xiangxiang… I’ve investigated you.”

Zhou Xiang glanced at him, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Zhouzhou… I’ve investigated you too, thoroughly. But none of that matters anymore, does it?”

Before he could respond, she had already turned and left. “See you later~” she called, closing the door behind her.

As she walked down the mountain, an unease lingered in her chest. She knew Wei Zanzhou had unfinished business on the mountain, yet something about the situation felt… incomplete.

Her anxiety peaked when she spotted the police car. She wanted to turn back, but a uniformed officer had already seen her.

“Miss Zhou! We’ve finally found you. Are you alright?”

Zhou Xiang shook her head slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. This place is completely surrounded. We’ll catch the criminals and bring justice to you and those dozens of missing persons.”

Zhou Xiang forced a calm expression, though she was puzzled. Who had called the police? How did they know? She hadn’t even handed over the evidence yet. And Wei Zanzhou… what about him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. “Officer Zhou!? Is it really you!?”

“Yang Lu? You’re here too?” Zhou Xiang recognized her senior from the police academy.

The young policeman’s eyes widened. “Officer? Miss Zhou is a police officer too?”

“Yes,” Zhou Xiang replied. “I passed the joint police exam last December and have been serving as a proud officer. I went undercover for several months to investigate this missing persons case. Thanks to the evidence and work, the case has been solved!”
The young policeman’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Officer Zhou, I… I didn’t know! A heroine! I admire you!”

Zhou Xiang could only offer a stiff, modest smile. “You flatter me. It’s thanks to everyone else, really.”

“Officer Zhou, you must be exhausted after staying here so long. Get in the car and rest,” he urged gently.

Zhou Xiang nodded and walked toward the two waiting police cars. She slid into the backseat, and the moment the door closed behind her, a deafening bang echoed from the mountaintop.

She whipped her head around in disbelief. The villa—her home for the past several months—was now engulfed in flames, smoke curling skyward in thick black tendrils. Her phone vibrated, a new message blinking on the screen.

Her heart raced. She hurriedly opened it, silently praying that Wei Zanzhou was still alive. But it wasn’t a text—it was a voice message.

[My dearest Xiangxiang, by the time you hear this, I will have already left this world. I know what you wished for, but please forgive me.

No matter what, I cannot share you with this world. I don’t want anyone to focus on you, to touch you, or even covet you. I know you don’t want to give up this world; you still have your dreams. That is why I left.

I saw everything you did for me in the basement, and it moved me more than I can say. Yet, I never wanted to make things difficult for you.

I have moved all of your favorite things from the villa to my city-center home. After I’m gone, you can live there. I’ve also transferred all my shares in the company to you; you can use them as you wish.

During my illness, I forced you to do things—that was never my intention. I don’t know if it’s too late to apologize now. Xiangxiang, I love you.

It’s such a pity that, to avoid arousing your suspicion, I never even kissed you goodbye.]

Zhou Xiang’s hand froze on the phone. Her blood seemed to run cold. Trembling violently, she let the device slip slightly as tears streamed down her face, dripping onto the screen.

“Wei Zanzhou… Wei Zanzhou…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her face drained of color, and a dull, throbbing ache spread across the back of her neck. Before she could even comprehend the pain, darkness overtook her, and she fainted.

Life, Zhou Xiang reflected as consciousness returned, was a series of fleeting presences. Some people pass through like a gentle breeze, leaving soft traces on a blank canvas. Others crash into life like meteorites, igniting flames and floods, leaving craters that can never be repaired.

Psychological Clinic

“Did you approach him intentionally?”

“No,” Zhou Xiang replied steadily. “I was investigating that missing persons case. I didn’t know he had brought me to the villa until later, when I realized he was a suspect. I stayed only to collect evidence.”

“Do you love him?”

“Maybe. I told him I loved him.”

“You knew he had committed capital crimes, yet you still loved him?”

“Maybe.”

“When the police arrived, the basement had been burned to ashes. When were those evidence photos taken?”

“He took me to the basement before, and I secretly took the photos.”

“Did you ever consider withholding the evidence to protect him?”

“I thought about it… but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Did he deceive you?”

“He lied to me about his childhood. He said the basement held only people who had bullied him, but actually… my suitors were also there. He told me my father had abandoned searching for me and was trying to manipulate me mentally, including… the final explosion.”

“The final explosion? What do you mean?”

“He didn’t lie about the explosion itself, but he orchestrated it deliberately. I removed the chip from my neck, yet it still detonated. He could have waited until I left to trigger it. He wanted me to see it—he deliberately made sure of it.”

“And why… why would he do that?”

“To make me remember him. To remember him for the rest of my life.”

“Is Ms. Zhou still serving as a police officer?”

“No,” she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’m a pilot now. I want to be closer to the sky.”

“One last question, Ms. Zhou. What exactly did you do in the basement that night?”

Zhou Xiang leaned back in the chair, her gaze steady, voice calm yet edged with unshakable certainty. “That night… I killed everyone who had bullied him.”

🌸 Hey! Translating this story takes a LOT of time ⏰💦
If you liked it, leave a comment 📝💖 — it really makes my day!
Your support keeps the story alive and helps me deliver the next chapter faster! 🚀📖