Huang Yue's POV
The skiff tilted, icy water surging over my legs as the hull cracked under Zhao's boat ramming us, the engine sputtering its last gasps. My hands clung to Yang Wei, his blood soaking my fingers, his chest heaving faintly beneath my grip—alive, but slipping, his promise to Yanyan fading with every shallow breath. Above, Chen's chopper roared, its searchlight slicing the night, gunfire spitting from its side, a lifeline dangling just out of reach as Zhao's boat circled back, burning but unbroken, its men firing through the flames. I'd brought us here—my past, my secrets—and now we were drowning in it.
"Mom!" Yanyan's voice pierced the chaos, fierce and sharp, her oar swinging as she stood ankle-deep in water, slamming it into a soldier leaning from Zhao's boat, his scream cut short as he fell, blood blooming in the waves. Haoyu wrestled the throttle, his face streaked with blood from his temple, the skiff lurching but sinking fast—too fast.
