"Alright, I'll call someone to bring it over now," Hong Kun replied, picking up his phone and heading to the balcony to make the call. As he dialed, his gaze lingered thoughtfully on Qian Peng, who was sitting on the sofa.
After finishing his call, Hong Kun claimed he would go out to buy something to eat.
Qian Peng didn't think much of it. He leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes for a light nap. He hadn’t eaten or slept properly in days, and his nerves were stretched to their limit.
A little over ten minutes later, the door lock rattled. Qian Peng instantly opened his eyes, his sharp gaze fixed on the entrance. Only after Hong Kun entered did he relax a bit.
"Peng-ge, most stores are closed tonight, so I just managed to get you some instant noodles. Try to make do with it," Hong Kun said.
Qian Peng was silent for a moment before asking, "When will the money arrive?"
"Should be soon."
A knock sounded at the door. Hong Kun went to open it. "That must be the guy with the money."
But when the door swung open, it wasn’t the delivery boy—it was Uncle Lu.
Qian Peng shot Hong Kun an angry glare. "You son of a bitch, you set me up?"
"Sorry, Peng-ge—I had no choice," Hong Kun apologized, voice strained.
Uncle Lu pulled out a knife and lunged straight at Qian Peng. Qian Peng dodged swiftly. Seeing this, Hong Kun tried to bolt through the door, but he was a second too slow.
Qian Peng grabbed him. Just as Uncle Lu stabbed with the blade, Qian Peng shoved Hong Kun in front of him, and the knife went straight into Hong Kun’s chest—right where the heart was.
Uncle Lu froze in shock. Qian Peng took the chance to kick him to the floor, flung the door open, and dashed out.
Li Guangliang hesitated at the bottom of the building—he’d come because of his gambling debts, after Hong Kun told him to drop by tonight.
He hesitated for a while, then headed upstairs.
…
That evening, Mrs. Chen insisted everyone stay overnight at the old Shen family home.
Li Qiuchi tossed and turned, unable to sleep, a lingering sense of unease gnawing inside.
"What are you thinking about?" Bryce Shaw propped himself up on one arm, watching her, his eyes filled with concern.
"I can’t sleep. Maybe it’s my first time staying over at the Shen house—just feels a bit strange."
"If you’re not comfortable, we can stay at Lanshan Residence from now on," Bryce Shaw said, gently pulling her into his arms and patting her back. His hand, however, couldn’t resist roaming along her spine.
Li Qiuchi squirmed restlessly in his embrace. "Mm~ keep your hands to yourself, that tickles."
Feeling his fingers slide down her back, she bit down on his shoulder in exasperation. "What did you say earlier, huh?"
He had promised that last time would be the last, and yet here he was again. Men—never to be trusted.
"It’s been half a month since we were together. I want to make up for all the time we lost," Bryce Shaw murmured, flipping her beneath him, bracing himself above her with both arms.
She hooked her arms around his neck. "Then what if I’m away filming for several months? What will you do then?"
He’d never been so clingy before.
Bryce Shaw dipped his head, planting kisses along her shoulder—leaving marks wherever he went.
A shiver ran down Li Qiuchi’s spine, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Bryce Shaw guided her hand downward, along his abs…
Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand started ringing.
Puzzled, she wondered—who would be calling this late on Lunar New Year's Eve?
She answered. The voice on the other end was grave.
"Is this Li Guangliang’s daughter, Li Qiuchi?"
She paused, then replied, "Yes, I am."
A moment later, her expression turned grave. Even after hanging up, she remained in a daze.
Feeling something was wrong, Bryce Shaw asked, "Whose call was that?"
Head bowed, she said nothing for a while.
Bryce Shaw’s voice turned anxious. "Qiuqi, what happened? Tell me."
Li Qiuchi took a deep breath. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes were full of turmoil. "My... my dad’s in trouble."
The streets were still lively in the middle of the night, decorated with red lanterns everywhere and people still lighting fireworks.
Bryce Shaw drove, while Li Qiuchi sat tensely in the passenger seat, nerves taut.
"The police said he’s suspected of murder. I know he’s a bastard, but he would never kill anyone—he’s too much of a coward for that."
A man like Li Guangliang could be a bully at home, but he turned completely spineless on the outside.
"Don’t worry. We’ll figure things out at the station," Bryce Shaw reassured her.
—
At the police station, everyone kept sneaking glances at Li Qiuchi. No one would have expected the suspect to be the father of the famous actress Li Qiuchi.
"Can I see him?" Li Qiuchi asked earnestly.
Officer Zhao Jiang, who was on duty, looked uneasy. "Sorry, but regulations say that as a murder suspect, he can’t meet with family yet."
Bryce Shaw stepped out to make a call. Only a short while later, Zhao Jiang received a notice from his superiors: Li Qiuchi could go in, but for only five minutes, and only with an officer present.
Bryce Shaw didn’t accompany her inside, waiting outside instead.
Tonight, the station whispered with two pieces of gossip: first, that the father of superstar Li Qiuchi was the suspect, and second, that she was dating the boss himself. Either story leaking would guarantee front-page news the next morning.
Inside the interview room, Li Guangliang sat in handcuffs, beaming with relief at the sight of his daughter.
"Qiuqi!"
His haggard face was filled with fear and desperation. Li Qiuchi, right then, was his last hope.
"I knew you wouldn’t leave me behind. Qiuchi, please, you have to help me. I’ve been framed," he begged.
Sadness and anger welled up in Li Qiuchi’s chest, but she managed to stay composed.
"Why were you even there?"
The officers had told her everything in the hall outside.
Li Guangliang was found first at the crime scene—spotted by a neighbor who lived upstairs. The neighbor had called the police, and the fact that he’d tried to run only made his guilt seem more suspicious.
When Li Qiuchi pressed him, his eyes darted evasively, and he faltered.
Time was short—she only cared about getting to the heart of the matter.
"Talk!" she barked impatiently.
Li Guangliang's lips trembled, words on the tip of his tongue.
"If you won't speak, you'll just end up in prison," she threatened.
"It's because I owe money," he finally blurted out. "They came after me about a gambling debt, and I told them you were my daughter. Hong Kun—he wanted me to get money from you."
After he finished, Li Qiuchi broke into a cold, bitter laugh. Her look held a mix of despair and scorn.
So that was it. That call last time had tipped Hong Kun off to her wealth. If his daughter really was a celebrity, there was a huge payday to be made. That explained why Li Guangliang had shown up at Hong Kun’s apartment at all.
"But when I got there, Hong Kun was already dead."
The door was open when he arrived, and when he saw Hong Kun lying in a pool of blood, his first instinct was to run—only to be seen by the upstairs neighbor. Seeing Hong Kun on the floor, the neighbor called the police.
Li Qiuchi clenched her teeth. "So you dragged someone else in just to try and threaten me? Li Guangliang, you’ve really got some nerve. Honestly, you deserve what’s coming!"