Chapter 29 - A nightmare.

Tears of panic streamed down from my hollow gaze. 

A sickening stench of alcohol emanated from him, his labored breaths pressing incessantly against my ears. 

The foul odor engulfed my neck, thick and repulsive. 

My dress was being lifted, and I heard the clinking sound of a belt being undone. 

Desperation surged within me as I fought back with every ounce of my strength, yet the disparity in power was insurmountable. 

His filthy hands roamed over me, and a wave of nausea churned in my stomach. 

Bile rose in my throat as his rough hand muffled my screams. 

The tears cascading down my face never ceased. 

In a fleeting moment of his carelessness, I managed to let out a piercing cry, summoning all the strength I had left: 

"Chu Qingci, help me!" 

My shout seemed to provoke him. He grew more violent, his fierce gaze boring into me as he forced my face toward him. 

His actions did not halt; he tore my dress away completely. 

I pounded his chest with my fists—feeble attempts, like an ant challenging a towering tree. 

Seeing my resistance, he responded with brutal blows, slapping and punching me without mercy. 

He kicked my abdomen with cruel force, leaving me battered and broken. 

In that moment, hope died within me. 

Had Chu Qingci not heard me? 

Just as the man's hands were about to violate me further, a shadow darted into my blurred vision. 

Chu Qingci charged in like a beast defending its territory, feral and unyielding. 

He attacked his adoptive father with a ferocity I had never seen before, his eyes cold and ruthless, like those of a starving lion. 

I sat there in a daze, frozen in place, watching the scene unfold as though it were a distant nightmare. 

The man dragged Chu Qingci out of the alley, and their fight continued on the street under the dim glow of streetlights. 

Fists flew, and blood spilled, staining the pavement. 

The commotion grew loud enough to draw onlookers, some of whom dialed the police in alarm. 

Through the chaotic murmur of the crowd, I faintly heard someone shout into their phone, 

"Hello? This is 110? There's a fight on Yunhai Road 72—someone might die!" 

I sat motionless, my hollow eyes absorbing the gruesome scene. 

The man pulled a fruit knife from his pocket. The blade caught the light, its reflection stabbing into my mind. 

Something inside me snapped. 

I muttered incoherently, trembling as I recoiled. 

In the blink of an eye, the man drove the knife into Chu Qingci's abdomen. 

Once wasn't enough—he pulled it out and stabbed again. 

Blood poured freely from the blade, painting the ground in a vivid, horrifying red. 

The world around me was drenched in crimson; even the moon above seemed to bleed. 

As my mind cleared momentarily, the figures of strangers flashed before me. 

People rushed in, pulling the two men apart. 

Someone had already called an ambulance, anticipating the worst. 

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer. 

I sat in the alley, numb and lifeless, my vacant eyes fixed on Chu Qingci. 

He lay there, blood-soaked and broken, his gaze filled with fear and concern as he looked at me one last time. 

Tears blurred my vision as despair consumed me. 

A kind woman adjusted my torn clothing while a man spoke to the police in a thick dialect: 

"Here! There's another girl here—she's injured and bleeding!" 

The officers and medics turned their attention to me. 

I was unresponsive, a puppet moved by others' hands as they guided me to the ambulance. 

I glanced at Chu Qingci as they placed him on a stretcher. 

His face, drained of color, was smeared with blood; his shirt, soaked through with it. 

The heart monitor beside him displayed weakening numbers, the beeping slowing with each passing moment. 

At the hospital, they whisked him away to the ICU. 

I stood outside, staring at the spot where he'd vanished, my mind replaying our last moments together. 

Hours ago, we had shared laughter, warmth, and dreams. 

How had it come to this? 

Now his vibrant life was extinguished, leaving only silence in its wake. 

I looked down at my own body—scarred, violated, and drenched in the stench of alcohol that wouldn't dissipate. 

My hands scrubbed furiously at every spot he had touched, as if I could erase his presence. 

A nurse gently stopped me, offering quiet words of comfort, but they couldn't reach me. 

Tears streamed ceaselessly down my face as the weight of it all crushed me. 

If this was my fate, why had I been made to endure it a second time? 

Perhaps it would have been better if I had never existed at all.