On the deep night’s silent road surface, the roaring sound of accelerating engines and the piercing screech of brakes during sharp turns echoed through the air. A jeep took the lead, recklessly weaving through the streets and alleys, with several police cars and a white Audi closely pursuing from behind.

“Adjust the police force to intercept and block near the head street of Hongjiang District, bring those two people back to the station first!”

After shouting a few words into the walkie-talkie, Xu Xingchun pressed the horn, lowered the car window, aimed toward the sky above, and fired several warning shots with a bang bang bang.

The jeep ahead, upon hearing the gunshots, didn’t stop but instead accelerated, becoming even more frenzied, charging forward recklessly with a life-or-death momentum. Someone even leaned out of the window and fired shots in this direction. Xu Xingchun tossed aside the walkie-talkie, skillfully turned the steering wheel, instantly shifted gears, floored the gas pedal, and sped past a police car beside him.

Racing through a curve at extreme speed, followed by another perfect drift. Fu Xueli was nearly thrown out, her head accidentally hitting the glass, making her see stars from the impact.

Of all things, this was karma of her own making—she had just insisted on not getting out of the car, never expecting retribution to come so quickly!

While enduring the pain, she cursed herself inwardly. Gripping tightly onto the handle beside her, she felt her adrenaline surging, her stomach churning continuously, feeling overwhelmingly nauseous. She couldn’t catch her breath, her heart leaping into her throat.

Before she could rest for a moment, the car’s speed shot up again, truly a life-or-death race, the chassis of the car seemingly about to lift off the ground. Fu Xueli’s ears rang with a faint buzzing; half-dead and half-alive, she glanced at the dashboard, genuinely impressed by the speed Xu Xingchun was achieving.

Driving like this, they could die at any moment.

However, with the police sirens wailing all around and the smell of gunpowder from the bullets, it felt like being in a police action film—truly thrilling and heart-pounding, exciting beyond measure.

The group in the jeep was obviously very familiar with this area, desperately trying to shake off the pursuit, turning left and right, until the taillights’ afterglow finally disappeared around a street corner.

“Damn it, we lost them!” came a voice through the walkie-talkie, tone irritable, shouting in exasperation: “They got away from us again, looks like they’re heading toward the suburbs, deploy people to pursue from the riverbank side!”

The several police cars behind slowed down slightly.

“I… I, wait a moment.” Fu Xueli, her face pale, voice trembling, spoke with difficulty, “Xu Xingchun, I can’t take it anymore.”

—

Fu Xueli woke up with a splitting headache.

Groggily opening her eyes, she felt everything above was spinning, drenched in cold sweat. The humidifier beside her was puffing out water vapor; she closed her eyes again, breathing in and out, slowly recovering.

Where is this…

Fu Xueli propped herself up, her gaze blank, looking around.

Extremely simple decor, so empty that besides the whitewashed walls, a low wooden table, the most ordinary white fluorescent tubes, a desk piled with case files, and a sink for washing hands, there was nothing else.

Her memory stopped at…

She couldn’t stand the motion sickness anymore, rushed down to lean against the railing and vomit, vomiting until the world spun. And then after that…

After that, she passed out.

This low blood sugar problem really had no cure. Fu Xueli had been like this since high school, unable to stand for long in the mornings. Previously, when pulling all-nighters filming, she had fainted on set several times, making others think she had a terminal illness. Over time, her body had been worn down more and more.

With a click—someone opened the door and walked in.

Fu Xueli weakly turned her head and saw Xu Xingchun carrying a bag of items.

Her gaze drifted over him, and when she opened her mouth, her throat was hoarse and parched, “What time is it, where am I?”

Xu Xingchun untied the plastic bag, a bowl of congee was placed on the table. He took out the bowl and chopsticks, his series of movements methodical and silent.

In just a short while, he had returned to his usual daily calmness. Reserved, not fond of words.

If it hadn’t been for last night, Fu Xueli really wouldn’t have been able to tell that Xu Xingchun had such a violent and thrilling side, as if he had become a different person.

But it must be said, the contrast between his usual gentle aloofness and last night’s frenzied fierceness brought a sense of cognitive dissonance with an extremely strong self-awareness—for a woman, there was a kind of fatal, masculine attraction.

Especially the way he held his gun, placed before any infatuated young girl, would be handsome enough to make hearts tremble.

Fu Xueli lifted the blanket to get out of bed, took two steps and her legs went weak, nearly falling over. So she sat back on the bed.

She knew Xu Xingchun’s temperament—with her in this state, he was definitely angry. Not daring to approach him, Fu Xueli observed the surrounding situation, obediently not daring to act rashly.

Every time she felt unwell physically, his emotions were always off.

She still remembered that year in the first year of high school, when they encountered a flu virus. Lying in the hospital, her fever wouldn’t break, and she had also cut her finger. She was essentially isolated; at the time, even her consciousness was blurred, occasionally able to regain clarity a few times. Only Xu Xingchun stayed by her side the entire time without eating or drinking, her injured finger held to his lips and kissed repeatedly, not at all afraid of being infected.

His appearance.

Truly looked like he wanted to die together with her.