Chapter 8: The Beauty Trap
Nighttime.
Yang Dongqing, dressed in black with a duckbill cap and mask, stepped out into the night. His attire spoke of one intent: he never let a grudge last overnight.
Earlier that day, Cui Hao had twice provoked him, crossing an unforgivable line.
He couldn't allow such a person to breathe the same air as him. If not for the crowds during the day, Cui Hao would already be dead.
Yang Dongqing was someone who repaid grievances with vengeance.
Since his recent life-altering event, his mindset had completely transformed.
Clenching his fists, he felt the steely collision of his fingers and palms, his eyes ablaze with intensity.
"Power! This is what having power feels like. But it's not enough. I need more power—only then can I survive in hell, only then can I control my own life!"
His gaze burned with a manic ambition as he pulled his hood up, shrouding his face in shadow, and stepped outside.
He moved swiftly, like a ghost in the night, racing through the shadows.
When he arrived at a secluded alley, he suddenly stopped, his brows furrowing.
"Help! Help me!"
"Please, let me go! No, no!"
"Stupid girl! Weren't you all aloof in the bar just now? Now you know how to beg? Too late!"
A young woman's cries for help and men's sinister laughter echoed from deeper in the alley, reaching Yang Dongqing's ears.
His face was impassive. In the outer city, poor law enforcement was a known issue. He shook his head coldly. "You reap what you sow."
In his eyes, anyone who chose to frequent bars late at night, despite the dangers of the outer city, couldn't be a good person.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard more:
"Big bro, this girl's so fresh—she might even be a student!"
"Heh, I've never seen such a beauty before. Tonight's my lucky night!"
Yang Dongqing halted mid-step and turned, sprinting toward the depths of the alley.
In the pitch-black alley, where no streetlights shone, only the cold moonlight illuminated the scene of a crime.
A girl in a cheap dress was pinned against a wall by two thuggish men. She struggled fiercely, but her strength was no match for theirs.
Despair filled her once-bright eyes, as though a layer of ash had dulled a luminous pearl.
Just as she was about to lose all hope, a figure suddenly appeared.
"Help me!" she cried out, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of hope.
It was Yang Dongqing.
"Stop! Let her go!"
Like a charging locomotive, he rushed forward, giving the men no time to react. With two punches, the pair were sent flying like broken kites, crashing into the alley walls.
As they struggled to rise, pain shot through their bodies, making it feel like their bones had shattered.
"Ow! Who the hell dares ruin my fun?!" one of them cursed.
Their answer came in the form of two more powerful kicks. Blood spurted from their mouths as they were thrown back once more.
"Get lost!" Yang Dongqing growled.
Realizing they had provoked someone they couldn't handle, the two scrambled to flee, not daring to utter a single threat.
The rescued girl seemed too frightened to speak. She collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her knees as she sobbed softly.
"Are you okay?" Yang Dongqing approached and asked.
The girl flinched but eventually raised her head.
Under the moonlight, her tear-streaked face, disheveled hair, and stubborn yet vulnerable gaze froze Yang Dongqing in place.
Though he had extraordinary powers, his student's mindset and limited experience hadn't fully adapted to his new reality. In his small world, beauty often left a deep impression.
This scene evoked a fierce protective instinct within him, one he couldn't suppress.
Sensing his gaze, the girl shrank back, hurriedly pulling up a fallen strap on her shoulder.
"Thank you for saving me," she said, struggling to stand. But her injuries made it difficult.
Yang Dongqing instinctively reached out to help her, but she flinched away like a startled deer.
"Don't… misunderstand," he stammered, suddenly nervous. "I'm not like them. I won't hurt you."
Perhaps his sincerity reassured her. The girl relaxed slightly, lifting her head to look at him with a mixture of defiance and gratitude. The moonlight reflected in her eyes.
"Thank you. What's your name? I'll repay you someday."
"Yang Dongqing," he replied without hesitation.
"Dongqing?" The girl blinked. "If I'm not mistaken, Dongqing is a flower and also an herb. Its meaning symbolizes resilience, uprightness, and vitality."
Yang Dongqing was stunned. It was the first time he realized the profound meaning behind the name his late parents had given him.
The girl smiled faintly. "A beautiful name, and it suits you. Well, I should go now."
"I'll walk you home!" The words tumbled out of him before he could think.
The girl hesitated, her eyes cautious. "No need. I can manage."
Yang Dongqing felt a pang of disappointment. Watching her leave, he struggled to find the words to make her stay.
As if fate intervened, she stumbled after just two steps, crying out in pain. She would have fallen onto the cold ground if not for the steel-like embrace that caught her.
For the first time, he understood the phrase "a delicate beauty in one's arms."
"Could you let go of me now?" came her soft, mosquito-like voice.
Snapping out of his daze, Yang Dongqing blushed and quickly released her.
"Thank you," she said again, limping away.
It was then he noticed her slender ankle, swollen and red.
"Your foot is injured. Walking like this will only make it worse. Let me take you home."
Without turning around, she replied, "No, I've troubled you enough. I can—"
Before she could finish, she stumbled again, falling once more. But instead of the hard ground, she found herself in his arms again.
"Stop being stubborn. I'll take you home," Yang Dongqing said firmly, lifting her effortlessly.
Too shy to meet his gaze, the girl curled up in his arms, murmuring a quiet, "Okay."
Under the moonlit sky, they walked in silence, the atmosphere serene yet filled with unspoken warmth.
"Nan Mo," she suddenly said, breaking the silence.
Yang Dongqing glanced at her. "What?"
"My name," she replied softly. "It's Nan Mo."