Song Meiqi's fingers dug into the fabric of the bed as his words slowly sank into her mind. Her trembling breath caught in her throat.
This man had gone completely mad.
The crazed fan leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, lost in his own imagination, without a single thought for Song Meiqi's feelings. In his mind, everything had already been decided.
Then his gaze returned to her.
A strange light flickered in them, making her stomach twist uneasily.
"Xiao Qi, it won't take long. We will be together as one," he said, slowly shrugging off his rose-colored jacket.
Song Meiqi froze.
The meaning behind his words crashed into her all at once.
Fear gripped her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her body turned cold as panic spread through her veins. She wanted to move, to scream, but her body refused to obey. She could only stare at him.
As he took a step closer, the room around her blurred.
Her thoughts drifted farther and farther away, pulled into a corner of her mind she had spent years trying to lock away.
Before she knew it, she was back in the old room that had once given her comfort.
She was eight years old again.
"Mei'er."
A gentle knock came from the door.
Little Song Meiqi looked up from the old phone in her hands. The landlord who had given her and her mother a place to stay peeked through the narrow gap in the doorway.
"Mei'er, what are you doing?"
A bright smile immediately spread across her face.
"I'm listening to Mom sing."
The man chuckled softly before stepping inside. He sat beside her on the bed and patted her head.
On the phone, her mother's voice filled the small room. It was an old recording from one of her performances, and Song Meiqi listened to it whenever she missed her.
The man watched her quietly for a moment.
"When you grow up, you'll be just as beautiful as your mother."
Little Song Meiqi simply smiled.
She had heard those words countless times from the aunties and uncles in town. To her, they meant nothing special. She never noticed the strange look hidden behind his smile.
"Mei'er, do you want to play with me?" he asked.
Back then, she had just moved to town. Her mother spent most of the day working at the noodle shop, and she had no friends her age.
So when he came around, she welcomed the company. He had always seemed kind—or so she believed.
Until the day everything changed.
She still remembered the commotion outside the shop: hurried footsteps, unfamiliar voices, flashing lights drawing attention from everyone nearby.
Police officers had come looking for him. Soon after, they led him away in handcuffs.
The adults spoke in whispers after that. Whenever she entered the room, the conversations would stop.
Her mother began holding her tighter, her eyes red as though she had cried when no one was watching.
At eight years old, Song Meiqi didn't understand why. She only knew she never saw the man again.
But the whispers followed her wherever she went. Some looked at her with pity, others with contempt. Before long, she became the town's favorite topic of gossip.
The adults thought she was too young to understand, so they never lowered their voices.
"Poor child."
"Just like her mother."
"A bastard's daughter."
"She'll grow up to be the same."
Years later, Song Meiqi finally understood what had truly happened that day—and how one man had quietly shattered both her and her mother's lives.
From that moment, something in her changed.
She grew quieter, more guarded, always anxious around people, especially men.
Even then, what Song Meiqi feared most remained the same.
Human desire.
"Wait—!" Song Meiqi desperately screamed.
The crazed fan stopped in his tracks.
To buy herself time, Song Meiqi forced herself into his delusion.
"I know… I know how much you cared for me… I–I wouldn't have known Haoran cheated on me if you didn't send me those messages."
The man lowered his head slightly, hiding his shy smile, but it was enough for Song Meiqi to confirm he was the stalker sending her the anonymous messages.
"That is why…I—I also care for you," she said, her stomach churning, but she continued, "How about you take a shower first?"
His smile dropped. His gaze turned instantly cold.
"No…I can't let you wait." His voice deepened slightly, like a switch had flipped.
Song Meiqi forced herself to stay calm. "I want you to be clean when you come back," she said quickly, her voice steady despite the fear crawling up her spine. "If this is really… us… then you should at least listen to me, right?"
A short silence.
Then, the man finally agreed and turned toward the bathroom.
But just as he stepped inside, he paused.
"Ah… don't even think about escaping," he said lightly. "My brother is waiting outside."
Song Meiqi's jaw tightened.
So there really was no way out.
The man caught her expression, the corner of his lips curling into a satisfied smirk, before he finally stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
As the sound of running water filled the dimly lit hotel room, Song Meiqi knew she couldn't waste a single second.
Her eyes darted around the room. There was a telephone—but the line had already been cut.
Swallowing her frustration, she swept her gaze across the room once more, her mind racing as she desperately searched for anything that could help her escape from the two men.
Just then, the bathroom door opened.
The man stepped out wearing only a bath towel around his waist.
"Little Qi… Little Qi," he called excitedly as he walked toward the bed—but there was no Song Meiqi.
Frowning, he swept his gaze across the dark room.
In that instant, something hard came swinging toward him.
The impact landed clean on his head. He lurched forward, collapsing against the bed as pain exploded through his skull.
For a moment, his vision blurred.
When he forced his eyes open, he could barely make out Song Meiqi standing nearby—lamp in hand, its base wrapped with the cloth they had used earlier.
His brows knitted. He tried to get up—
But Song Meiqi moved first. She kicked his injured leg. A scream tore from his throat as he collapsed again.
There was no hesitation in her anymore. She needed to survive.
She grabbed the alcohol bottle from the nightstand and smashed it against the edge. Glass shattered sharply through the room. In the same breath, she seized a shard and pressed it against his neck.
The commotion outside immediately drew attention.
Xiao Zhu, who had been standing guard, heard everything and rushed in—freezing at the sight.
Inside, Song Meiqi had his brother pinned against the bed, a broken shard of glass pressed firmly to his throat.