Chapter 12

The first time I met Bai Zifan was in my senior year of high school. I’d supposedly sprained my leg so it was inconvenient to go to my IELTS class, and my dad assigned a junior company driver to ferry me back and forth, rain or shine.

The junior driver’s name was Bai Zifan, and he was ridiculously handsome. Tall and lean in a T-shirt, his arms were all tight, clean lines of muscle. His buzz cut was clipped very short, a silver stud in his left ear, and he was chewing gum with casual indifference.

I’d never seen him before.

“I’m just a temp,” he chuckled. He said his sister worked at my dad’s company and, because he was good at driving, she’d recommended him for a part-time driver gig.

Bai Zifan suddenly bent down, scooped me up, and carefully set me in the seat. My face went hot.

In reality, my sprained leg was fake.

I loved music and loved the piano. I’d put up the money to start a musical theater club at school with a few friends. We’d rehearsed for ages, only for our performance to be abruptly canceled by the school. Turned out my dad had called the principal directly, saying it was senior year, and he didn’t want hobbies interfering with the students’ studies.

Dad had already lined up a business school overseas for me. Everything was arranged; the only condition was that I had to pass the English exams. He’d even hired me an English tutor.

I pretended to have a sprained leg as an excuse not to go, but I hadn’t expected my dad to send someone specifically to pick me up and drop me off.

Online, someone claiming to be the manager of the Old Town Theater said they could provide a venue for our musical. I was over the moon and desperate to go check out the place.

I said to Bai Zifan, “Take me to the Old Town Theater. I’m meeting some friends, it’s really important.”

“No.” He turned the steering wheel with one hand. “Your dad’s the one paying me. I listen to your dad.”

“How much is he paying you? I’ll give you double.”

He said nothing.

“Triple!” I upped the bid.

He still didn’t budge.

“Why are you so rigid for a part-timer?”

In the rearview mirror, his eyes were full of disdain. “Does the little princess think money can buy everything?”

He was completely impervious and carried out my dad’s orders to the letter.

“Stop the car! My leg hurts too much. There’s a pharmacy up ahead, go buy me a bottle of safflower oil.”

He stopped, helpless, and when he came back out with the medicine, I had already slid behind the wheel and driven off. I waved goodbye at him, and in the rearview mirror I saw him standing by the road, furious, flipping me off. I laughed out loud, triumphant.

Once I’d escaped him, I went to meet the netizen who claimed to be the theater manager. The meeting place turned out to be the mouth of an alley behind the theater.

“Little girl, I’ll need thirty thousand up front as a deposit for the venue.” His T-shirt was filthy, and when he spoke, twenty years’ worth of nicotine stench blew straight into my face.

“I have to see the venue first.”

“Pay the deposit and then you can see it.” He jingled the keys in his hand, eyes darting everywhere-at my crutch, at my little Chanel bag, at the Audi A8 parked behind me…

“Forget it.”

I realized he was probably a scammer and turned to leave, but he yanked me back. “You playing me, huh?”

He blew smoke rings right into my face, and his other hand was already reaching for my bag.

I swung my crutch at him, then spun and bolted.

He yelped in pain and let go, clearly not expecting this “cripple” to suddenly sprint like a track star. He froze for a couple of seconds before charging after me.

Behind me I could hear his crude curses, his footsteps getting closer and closer-

“Vrooom-!”

A black blur drifted in from the mouth of the alley, the front wheel of the motorcycle rearing up and slamming straight into the man chasing me, knocking him flat on his back. Bai Zifan yanked off his helmet and jumped off the bike, his solid arm swinging a fist that sliced through the air and crashed into the man’s face.

He grabbed the guy by the collar, ready to land another punch, when I saw three more men rush into the alley, steel pipes in hand. By then I had already pulled the car around to him. “Get in!”

He jumped into the car, and a brick arced through the air, smashing the taillight. I screamed, stomped on the gas, and almost plowed into a guardrail. Fortunately, I felt a strong hand clamp over mine on the wheel, correcting it, and the car finally steadied and shot forward.

“Are you fucking brain-dead?” Bai Zifan snapped. “You actually trust some stranger who asks you to come to a place like this? You really got a death wish, don’t you?”

My palms were slick with cold sweat. I didn’t say a word.

“Weren’t you supposed to be crippled?” Bai Zifan glanced at my still-shaking knees, then suddenly gave a contemptuous little laugh. “You just ran faster than a rabbit.”