Bai Qingqing stood frozen, as if paralyzed by fear, her dazed expression devoid of any trace of resistance.

Chang Lan, her face swollen, tried to rush toward her, but Chang’an held her back, dragging her by the arm toward the alley’s exit.

Bai Qingqing glanced in their direction. Chen San let out a shrill, sinister laugh. “Regretting you helped those two little brats now? Too late. In this world, a kind heart only brings trouble.”

His eyes, cold and venomous like a snake’s, fixed on Bai Qingqing’s delicate features. “I could tell you were a girl the moment I saw you. What kind of noble lady has the leisure to disguise herself as a man and wander the streets for fun? With a heart so soft, shouldn’t you show a little sympathy for us too?”

Chen San had always had a sharp eye. This girl was soft-hearted—so easy to fool it hardly took any effort. She’d even paid that dying wretch’s medical bills without a second thought. Clearly, she had money to spare. How could they possibly let such a fat sheep go?

At first, they’d planned to kidnap her for some silver. But now, having gotten a good look at her face, Chen San had made up his mind—he wanted the money and the girl.

Bai Qingqing said nothing. Her eyes were cast downward, filled with sorrow. The betrayal stung deeply, like a hollow carved out inside her.

“Too scared to speak?”

At that, Bai Qingqing lifted her head. Apart from the grief on her face, there was no sign of panic. “I’m afraid, yes. But not completely. What is it you want?”

Chen San felt a flicker of something unfamiliar stir within him. Her reaction wasn’t quite what he’d expected. But he quickly brushed it off. She was an outsider, tricked here all alone. This was his turf—what was there to fear?

“What do we want? Well, that’s quite a story. This servant’s outfit doesn’t suit you at all. Why don’t we start by getting a little more honest with each other?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The men behind Chen San let out disgusting bursts of laughter as he swaggered toward Bai Qingqing. But before he could reach her, he suddenly jerked back—a stone crashed onto the spot he’d just been standing.

Bai Qingqing turned, her eyes widening in disbelief.

Chang’an stood there, panting heavily, another stone clutched in his hand, his gaze fixed on Chen San with fierce determination.

Chen San spat to the side. “You little bastard, got a death wish, do you? You dare come back?”

Chang’an’s small face was tense as he darted in front of Bai Qingqing, shielding her with his thin frame. His back to her, his voice buzzed with strain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. They took Lanlan. But she’s gone to get help. Until then, even if I die, I won’t let them lay a finger on you.”

He barely reached Bai Qingqing’s shoulder, his back slender but taut as a drawn bowstring. The hand gripping the stone trembled ever so slightly, yet his voice held not a hint of doubt.

Bai Qingqing pressed her lips together, then gave a faint smile. Maybe her luck wasn’t as terrible as she thought.

Chang’an’s words sent Chen San into a rage. He flung his arm forward. “You want to die that bad? Fine, I’ll grant your wish!”

One of his thugs stepped up, and Chang’an lunged at him like a wild wolf cub, fierce and unyielding. Bai Qingqing glanced again and again toward the alley’s entrance, then turned back, her eyes filled with worry.

After all, he was still just a child. How could he hold his own against grown men? In just a few exchanges, he’d already taken several hard kicks to the stomach.

Bai Qingqing panicked and tried to pull Chang’an back, but the movement caught Chen San’s eye.

“No rush,” he sneered. “Once we’ve dealt with him, we’ll have all the time in the world to get to know each other.”