T-Country, Mai City.
The roar of motorcycles echoed through the streets at 2 a.m. as a gang of bikers tore through the night.
"Gotta catch her!"
"Move it!"
Shouts in heavily accented English, laced with curses, cut through the air. The bikers thundered past, their leader casting a fleeting glance at the lone girl sitting on a bench in the empty street. But seeing an unfamiliar face, he quickly looked away, and the pack sped off into the distance.
Only when the growl of engines had completely faded did the girl finally turn her head in their direction. A smug grin curled on her delicate, makeup-free face.
"Bunch of idiots," she muttered under her breath. "Three years working together, and they can't even recognize me without makeup."
Qiao Ran stretched lazily, reveling in her victory—her 37th successful escape from pursuit.
But her triumph was short-lived. The sudden hum of engines drew her attention back to the street, where a fleet of black luxury cars was now speeding toward her.
Her pulse spiked. In an instant, she slumped back onto the bench, transforming into the picture of a heartbroken girl drowning in late-night solitude.
*Who the hell are these guys now?!* she fumed internally.
The sleek black cars screeched to a halt right in front of her. Then, like something out of a mobster movie, over a dozen men in black suits and sunglasses stepped out, surrounding the bench in an impenetrable circle.
Qiao Ran peeked up cautiously, her surprise barely concealed.
These weren't locals, but rather faces from Hua Country.
Not the people who'd been chasing her?
Then what did they want?
She lifted her head, her face a mask of panic, eyes wide with terror. "Who are you? What do you want?!"
Sun Zhen, the man at the forefront, stepped forward, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses with a practiced motion. A faint smile played on his lips as he studied Qiao Ran. "Ms. Qiao, truly worthy of being called a genius actress. Your performance is impeccable."
Qiao Ran's pupils contracted slightly, but she clung to her act—the confused, heartbroken girl. "Wh-what are you talking about? I don’t understand! I’m warning you, don’t try anything!"
Just then, the window of the central limousine rolled down, and a deep, magnetic voice cut through the tension. "Sun Zhen."
The voice was cool, laced with a thread of impatience.
The bespectacled man immediately straightened, his demeanor turning deferential. He turned back to Qiao Ran.
"Qiao Ran. Twenty-one years old. Grew up in an orphanage. Three years ago, you skyrocketed to fame with your debut film. Just after winning Best Actress, you were exposed in a scandal—promiscuity, among other things. Blacklisted. Expelled from film school. Couldn’t stay in Hua Country, so you crossed the border illegally and ended up in T Country..."
With every word he uttered, Qiao Ran's expression hardened.
By the end, she could no longer keep up the act. Her face was ice.
Indeed, this was her past.
A past she wished to forget.
These memories often haunted her at midnight, leaving her sleepless until dawn.
Seeing her silence, Sun Zhen assumed she was refusing to admit it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few photographs.
The girl in the photos wore heavy makeup, her high nose bridge and deep-set eyes giving her an almost exotic look. It was none other than Qiao Ran—the young actress who had taken the nation by storm three years ago.
"That heavily made-up woman isn't me..."
Before Qiao Ran could finish, Sun Zhen produced another photo—this time of her bare-faced.
The girl in this picture looked much younger, her features softer, her face rounder, her hair longer. Her eyes were clear and lively, carrying an innocence untouched by the world. Anyone could tell it was her in her youth.
No room for denial.
Qiao Ran blinked, snapping out of her wide-eyed, naive act and slipping back into her true self.
Switching back to Chinese, she shrugged, her tone resigned. "Alright, what do you want?"
As she spoke, she stood up, rolling her neck as if stretching—but in truth, she was scanning for an escape route.
The bodyguards surrounding the bench seemed to sense her intentions, shifting subtly to tighten their circle.
Sun Zhen smirked.
"Miss Qiao, running won’t do you any good. And honestly, you don’t need to. We’re here with nothing but good intentions."
"Good intentions? What kind of good intentions involve ambushing her on a deserted midnight street?"
Even a three-year-old could see through this charade, judging by how those bodyguards were acting like they were facing some imminent threat.
Qiao Ran maintained a polite smile while rolling her eyes so hard it could've given her a headache.
No sooner had she finished her silent sarcasm than the luxury car door swung open, courtesy of Sun Zhen.
Inside sat a man.
