Though she didn't particularly want to, Zoe added Fu Chen on WeChat. After getting in the car, she set her phone aside with a long yawn.
"Exhausted."
Lan handed her a thermos. "I figured you probably didn't get to eat much in there. Here's some chicken porridge I made. It should fill you up a little."
Zoe let out a surprised squeal. "Lan, you're the best!"
Lan smiled and asked, "Did you meet anyone interesting tonight?"
"Oh, actually, there's something I need to tell you. Xiaowen from VX invited me to walk in their brand show next month," Zoe said. "She said she'd reach out to you soon to discuss the details."
Lan's eyes lit up like lightbulbs. "Look at you! You managed to land such a big opportunity right off the bat." Lan, being in the industry, knew all the latest updates. To the general public, VX might still be a niche brand, but Lan was aware of its massive potential. It had already gained recognition in European fashion circles—a mark of approval that could propel it to stardom, especially considering it was a brand founded by Chinese designers.
As her mind spun with ideas for promoting Zoe's appearance, Zoe leaned back in her seat, feeling the weight of fatigue. Attending a gathering that didn't quite suit her style had required her to be completely on guard, projecting confidence to avoid being underestimated. She was drained.
"Did Song come tonight?" Lan asked suddenly.
"Thank heavens, no."
Lan sighed. "I guess I'm greedy. I still held out hope that Song would show up tonight."
"Lan…" Zoe glanced at her, exasperated.
"Hey, one tabloid rumor and one trending hashtag with him brought you a ton of attention—you know that," Lan muttered, pressing a hand to her chest as if to calm herself. "Greedy, greedy. I need to stay grounded."
Hearing Lan talk to herself, Zoe couldn't help but laugh. Truthfully, everyone had their desires; no one was a saint. Even she couldn't turn down all the opportunities that had come knocking recently.
It was late by the time Lan dropped Zoe off. "Text me when you get inside."
"Will do."
Once back in her apartment, Zoe messaged Lan, then headed straight to remove her makeup, eager to finally relax. But just as she was about to settle down, her phone vibrated. Assuming it was Lan, she picked it up, only to frown—it was that unfamiliar number again.
The text read, "Did you have fun tonight?"
A chill ran through Zoe, making her skin prickle. Her fingers turned white as she gripped the phone tightly, and she typed back, Who are you?
Her gaze sharpened, cold and alert like a threatened predator, prepared to strike.
No reply.
She typed again: If you keep following and harassing me, I'll report you.
She was testing him, trying to gauge his reaction. The fact that he knew her private schedule—a gathering so low-key, only a handful of people even knew about it—made her uneasy. Who was he? How could he know? Was he actually following her?
Finally, a reply came in. A smile emoji, followed by: No need to bluff. You wouldn't dare report me.
Zoe replied: Why wouldn't I?
Stranger: You know why.
She couldn't tell if he was taunting or trying to scare her. But an inexplicable feeling of dread took root. Somehow, their brief exchange had shifted, and now it was she who felt on edge.
Why was he saying she wouldn't dare? Or was it not a taunt? Impossible. There couldn't be anyone else who knew about that.
Taking a breath, Zoe mulled over his potential identity. If he could track her tonight, he was probably following her movements. She recalled an incident at her hotel a few nights back when someone had tried, unsuccessfully, to enter her room. She vividly remembered it and knew it wasn't her imagination. Could he be the same person?
Setting her phone aside, Zoe's mind raced with one unsettling thought after another, each more disturbing than the last. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the phone vibrating again.
It was Lan: I'll pick you up at 7 a.m. to head to the airport.
Zoe replied with a simple OK, her mind still hazy with worry. She opened her text history, scrolling through her brief exchanges with the stranger, her brows knitting in frustration. She remained like that for nearly ten minutes before finally setting her phone down and heading to the bathroom.
Soaking in the bathtub, she murmured to herself, "You're just a rat hiding in the shadows. You wouldn't dare face me directly."
The next morning, Zoe stepped out in her usual attire, sunglasses on, with her trademark sweet smile firmly in place. At the airport, while waiting to board, Lan briefed her on tonight's show, but midway through, Lan received a call and stepped away to take it.
Zoe settled back with her sunglasses and earbuds, pulling an e-reader from her bag. Just then, someone sat down beside her.
"Excuse me, are you Zoe?" The voice was sweet and girlish.
Zoe looked up, surprised. "Yes. And you are…?"
"Oh, you don't know me?" The young woman, with her harmless smile, looked like a typical college girl, brimming with youthful energy.
A sense of foreboding rose in Zoe.
"I'm here to punish you."
Before Zoe could react, the girl pulled a cup from nowhere and splashed its contents right at Zoe's face.