Chapter 3: A Perfect Match

For three years, countless nightmare-filled days and nights have haunted my heart.

Everything went black; in an instant, my senses dissolved and my limbs turned ice-cold. I was like a rag doll tossed about at will, left to the mercy of Fu Shuhua’s rough handling. He bit down on my wrist, looking utterly satisfied.

I do not know how much time passed before my senses returned. As my vision cleared, I watched Fu Shuhua, just as he had three years ago, use gauze and a medical kit to carefully dress my wounds, his movements gentle, his demeanor intimate.

"If you can't hold on, just come back," Fu Shuhua said. "Of all my women, you are my favorite. Come back, and we can be just as we were before."

I studied his features; they were unchanged from three years ago, showing no signs of weariness.

"No," I replied. "You are about to start a family. What would I be if I went back?"

Fu Shuhua’s movements paused. He looked at me, a smile playing on his lips. "Did someone tell you something?"

I told him no, that I did not want to interfere in someone else’s family. Before I could finish, I took a blow to the face. "It’s been like this for so many years, Jiang Dian. Don’t push me."

He did not hesitate for a second. Even after the strike, he did not stop, though the nature of his touch changed. As he wrapped the gauze tightly around my bloodied wrist, he gripped my throat and repeated, "I know everything about you. I can protect you—what else could you possibly be dissatisfied with?"

The hot air from his breath brushed against my neck, raising a layer of goosebumps. I suddenly thought of the struggles of the past six months, starting from rock bottom, where all the suffering I should—and should not—have endured had been redoubled. Fu Shuhua knew why I had come, treating me like a pathetic court jester.

The air in my throat grew thin. Just as I was on the verge of suffocating and losing consciousness, Fu Shuhua released his grip. At the same time, he finished wrapping my wrist. He stepped over me as I gasped for air, walked to the balcony, and lit a cigar. He watched me with a mocking gaze; I knew he was waiting for my answer. He understood perfectly that I had no retreat—I had nowhere to go but back to his side.

Whether I was played to death by a crew on a film set or played to death by him or his wife, I had always had only those two paths.

"I’ll give you three days. Once you’ve thought it over, come find me here. I guarantee that you will still be Jiang Dian."

Amidst the swirling smoke, I trembled as I searched for my clothes. I don't know if it was because of the violent struggle, but the tie on my dress would no longer fasten; the slightest movement threatened to reveal far too much. Fu Shuhua said nothing, and I dared not ask him for a change of clothes.

Covering myself as best I could, I took the same elevator down. Once I left the lobby, I walked into a small alleyway. As the dappled light was swallowed by the darkness and the noise behind me faded, I could no longer hold back my tears.

Fu Shuhua was always like this: he would strike you, then offer a sweet treat. But now, it was clear he didn't even want to offer the treat. I looked up at the pitch-black, boundless sky and pulled at the corners of my mouth in despair, suddenly remembering what he had told me years ago.

"Jiang Dian," he had said, "I am a businessman. I never make a losing deal. I invest in you because your 'Pixiu' constitution draws wealth to me."

"I pour resources and money into you not to make you a global superstar. There are plenty of vases like you in the industry; I just want you to help me guard my wealth. No matter how much those old fools invest, as long as you are there to anchor it, I keep eighty percent."

"I already had a master check it out. We are both born to make money. Your life force nourishes mine; we are a match made in heaven."

Those few short sentences had sealed my fate for three years. During those three years with Fu Shuhua, my life was nothing but film sets and his oversized bed. He liked me, but he liked money more, so every time we were together, there had to be blood—sometimes on my wrists, sometimes elsewhere.

Before I had truly entered the world, I thought those fortune-tellers were just being mysterious, but the longer I stayed by Fu Shuhua’s side, the more sorrowfully I realized that I had already fallen in, though I didn't know when it had started. I had desperately schemed for ways to leave him, only to find that in the very end, I was still begging for his mercy. The irony was absolute.

The car I ordered via the app was late, and I couldn't reach Brother Ji; his phone wouldn't connect. I wiped away my tears haphazardly, preparing to cancel the order, when a small van emerged from the shadows and pulled up right in front of me. The door slid open, and several tall, burly men stepped out. They were foreigners, all wielding baseball bats.

One of them asked in broken Chinese if I was Jiang Dian. I quickly denied it, covering my face and trying to walk away, desperate to leave this place of trouble. I had only taken two steps when I felt my bag being yanked. A bull-eyed man shone a phone light on my face to compare it to a photo, then suddenly shouted, "That’s her!"

With that call, the others swarmed. I didn't care about anything else; I threw my bag at them and ran for my life. The wind whistled in my ears. I knew the consequences if they caught me, and I couldn't head back into the private club. It was too crowded and watched; if the media caught me with these people, I would be in the headlines tomorrow.

I wanted to make a comeback, but not like this—that would be no different from ruining my own future. I couldn't go where there was light, so I ducked into the underground parking garage. There were many owners of luxury cars there, and plenty of people looking for a thrill; if I could run into someone, these scumbags might not dare to act recklessly.

Perhaps out of caution, they didn't pursue at full speed. We chased each other into the garage, but I hadn't expected them to circle around and cut me off.

"Someone wants your fingers," said the one who had spoken before. I was terrified, trembling as I told them I had money and would give them all of it. "Who hired you? I'll pay double." But these men were unmoved; they were only interested in the bounty.

Seeing that I was cornered, they became even more brazen, swinging their baseball bats toward me. Just as the blows were about to land, the headlights of a car flashed, blinding me and the men. A Phantom had pulled up out of nowhere, its high beams striking us, stinging my eyes.

"I saw you lot from a distance! Go find somewhere else to play, don't dirty our boss's eyes!"

The man’s voice was booming. I covered my face with my hands, peering through my fingers to adjust to the glare. From my angle, I could dimly see a tall, imposing figure in the backseat. His face was obscured by shadows, leaving only the sharp, distinct angle of his jawline.

The men were provoked and began cursing, preparing to attack. They were mindless; forgetting about me, they surrounded the car instead. I took the chance to scramble behind the Phantom. It was at that moment that Brother Ji finally sent a message back.