She was wrong.
The old lady was wrong too.
She didn’t have the divine power to pull him into the light; instead, he was going to drag her down into his personal hell.
“Move it!”
A rough hand shoved her shoulder. Lu Zhiling staggered, her bare feet slipping on the slick deck, nearly falling before she regained her balance.
“Come on, pretty lady, don’t be a spoilsport,” a man sneered, crossing his arms as he loomed over her. “You walked onto this boat yourself. Why the act now?”
“Exactly. Do you think you’re some JÄ«n zhÄ« yù yè [a golden branch or jade leaf—royalty]? What are you putting on airs for?”
“Brother Wang is doing you a favor by playing with you. If you’re sensible, you’ll strip naked and lie on that ice to amuse him.”
“Strip! Strip! Strip!”
The chant rose like a fever. Ji Jing glanced between Lu Zhiling’s pale face and Bo Wang’s stony expression, but he didn’t dare utter a word of defense.
A few stray strands of hair clung to her damp cheeks. Lu Zhiling stood in the center of the ring, staring at Bo Wang, searching for a single flicker of humanity. She looked for a long time before finally giving up. “That’s it,” she whispered.
She shoved past the jeering crowd and slipped on her shoes, her dignity tattered but her heart resolved to leave. Suddenly, a blond man lunged forward, ripping open the delicate collar of her dress. Before she could gasp, he shoved two jagged blocks of ice down into her bodice.
The fabric over her chest was instantly soaked, the biting chill seeping into her skin and making her breath hitch in agony. “Have some fun, beauty,” the man leered, his eyes devouring her. “This ice isn’t nearly as cold as you are.”
The crowd erupted in a “WOW!” of sadistic excitement.
The deck eventually cleared. Only the melting ice and faint bloodstains remained under the dim, flickering lights of the yacht. Bo Wang sat in the shadows, his thin lips exhaling a slow, swirling cloud of smoke.
Lu Zhiling marched over, her shadow falling across him. She raised her hand, her palm itching to strike the arrogance from his face. If he hadn’t provoked this, she wouldn’t have endured such humiliation.
Bo Wang’s cold eyes tracked her hand. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow. He simply waited for the blow.
Her fingers trembled, and then, one by one, they retracted.
She realized the bitter truth: she had come here of her own accord. Her own arrogance had led her into this trap. She was living under the eaves of the Bo family (jì rén là xià —dependent on others), and she couldn’t afford to make an enemy of a man who treated his own life like trash. He was more terrifying than any of her other enemies because he had nothing to lose.
She wanted to live. She couldn’t fight him.
“What?” Bo Wang took the cigarette from his mouth, his voice a low rasp. “Not going to hit me anymore?”
“I can’t bear to,” she replied with a hollow, casual bitterness. She turned to leave, her damp clothes clinging to her skin.
Bo Wang remained on the sofa, his sharply defined features stiffening as she walked away. He looked like a ghost shrouded in darkness. After a long silence, he took a final drag of his cigarette, found it tasteless, and ground it into the floor with his heel, leaving a streak of glowing crimson.
As Lu Zhiling reached the exit, a series of gurgling screams tore through the air. She looked over the railing and froze. A group of men were holding a rope, and at the end of it, the blond man who had touched her was being plunged into the sea. His hand had been pierced through—likely by a hook—staining the dark water a deep, blossoming red.
The man rose and sank, suffocating, his face a mask of primal terror.
“Clueless idiot,” Ji Jing chuckled, leaning against the rail. “He thought he could guess what Wáng GÄ“ [Big Brother Wang] was thinking. He thought he was being clever.”
Lu Zhiling felt a chill that had nothing to do with the ice. She realized then that she was just as clueless as the man in the water.
Three in the morning. The city was a tomb.
Bo Wang returned to the Dijiangting [his luxury penthouse]. As he walked through the rooftop garden, the glass doors sliding open automatically, he nearly stepped on a milky-white gift box left at the threshold.
He kicked the lid off with a scowl. Inside was a bank card and a canister of tea with a note attached. He tore the paper off, recognizing her neat, elegant handwriting.
[Bo Wang: I am sorry. I was too presumptuous. I had no right to criticize you. I won’t bother you again. There is money on the card to compensate for the car I lost—it isn’t enough, but I will pay the rest. I also prepared a calming tea for your insomnia. I hope it helps you. —Lu Zhiling]
He looked at the tea canister. Each leaf had been carefully placed into individual tea bags. The instructions were written with painstaking care: One bag, 250ml warm water. Mild and sweet. Sweet dreams.
“Sweet dreams.”
Bo Wang stared at those last two words, his lips feeling suddenly parched. He licked them, his eyes darkening as they fixed on the phrase ‘Will not disturb again.’
“Damn it,” he hissed.
Lu Zhiling was trapped in a nightmare. She was by a pond with her brothers, wearing a beautiful dress, watching them catch fish. Suddenly, a giant black fish with the eyes of a demon leaped from the water to consume her. She ran until her lungs burned, but no one helped her.
She woke with a muffled scream, only to find the demon’s eyes from her dream staring back at her in the dark.
“Help—mmpfh!”
A large, calloused hand clamped over her mouth. The faint, holy scent of sandalwood from his prayer beads filled her senses.
“It’s me,” Bo Wang’s voice rang out, laced with irritation. “What are you screaming for?”
He was looming over her, pinning her into the mattress. Lu Zhiling’s heart hammered against her ribs. She blinked, her long hair fanning out across the pillow like spilled ink. When he finally released her mouth, she shrank back. “Why are you here?”
His eyes turned frost-cold at her retreat. “What, I’m not allowed?”
“I thought… I thought you were still angry,” she whispered. After the yacht, she was terrified he would retaliate. She had written the apology letter just to beg for a return to their “cold” peace.
“Are you afraid of me?” He pinched her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“I’m afraid of your anger,” she said quickly, her brown eyes wide and cautious. “I know I was wrong. I won’t be arrogant anymore. I won’t interfere in your life.”
“And then?”
“Nothing more. We’ll just… stay out of each other’s way.”
Bo Wang’s grip tightened until her jaw ached. He let out a dark, jagged sneer. “Lu Zhiling, you’re quite the piece of work. Doing whatever you want, whenever you want… who gave you the guts?”
She remained silent, her lips pressed together. Bo Wang wouldn’t allow it. He pressed his thumb against her mouth, forcing her lips apart with a possessive, rough curiosity. “Did I tell you to shut up?”
“Enough!” Lu Zhiling shoved his hand away and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. Her voice was trembling, though she tried to keep it gentle. “Bo Wang, I do like you. I liked you a little too much. But after the yacht, I understand. I truly do. I promise I will never appear in front of you again. Isn’t that what you want?”
Bo Wang didn’t answer with words.
He lunged forward and kissed her—a fierce, maddening collision of lips and teeth.
It was a chaotic, punishing kiss. Lu Zhiling tried to struggle, but he caught her wrists and pinned them behind her back, arching her body upward until she was pressed chest-to-chest against him. The heat between them flared into something volatile , a desperate, angry passion that threatened to consume them both.