Chapter 50: Darkness
Xiaoluo sat frozen, her breathing uneven as her father's concerned voice pulled her from the chilling remnants of her nightmare. Sweat clung to her forehead, and her heart raced as if she had just escaped from a predator.
"Just a nightmare," she whispered to herself, trying to shake off the lingering unease.
But the woman in her dream—her so-called "sister"—seemed so vivid, too real to dismiss. When her father asked what had frightened her, she brushed it off with a weak smile, pretending the dream was nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination.
Yet, she couldn't help but notice the flicker of emotion in her father's expression—a hesitation, a hint of something unsaid.
Eight Years Ago…
Hui clutched the steering wheel of his speedboat tightly as he scanned the endless blue expanse of the sea. His heart pounded with dread. Only moments earlier, his daughters had been waiting on the dock as he stepped away briefly to confirm weather reports.
Now, they were gone.
Panic consumed him when he spotted the familiar bright orange of a life vest floating in the distance. As he drew closer, he realized it was his younger daughter, Xiaoluo. Her small form clung desperately to the vest, tears streaming down her face.
"Dad!" she sobbed as he pulled her aboard, her body shaking uncontrollably.
"Where's your sister? Where's Xiaomu?" he asked frantically, scanning the waves.
Xiaoluo's voice broke as she choked out, "I… I'm sorry… I made her go out… She gave me the life vest… She… She sank!"
梁 Hui's heart shattered as he realized the magnitude of his daughter's words. Xiaomu, his eldest, was gone—taken by the very sea that now lay deceptively calm.
Back in the present, Liang Hui clutched the doorframe, his knuckles white as he leaned on it for support. The memories of that day, coupled with his younger daughter's dream, stirred a storm of guilt and sorrow within him. Xiaoluo's mind had buried the trauma, blocking out all memories of her sister. The doctors had called it selective amnesia—a coping mechanism to shield her fragile psyche from further damage.
To protect her, he had never spoken of Xiaomu again.
But now, as Xiaoluo recounted her dream of a woman claiming to be her sister, Liang Hui couldn't help but wonder if the memories were beginning to resurface.
The next morning, Xiaoluo stirred awake, her mood heavy. The oppressive weight of her dream lingered like a dark cloud. She had hoped to find some reprieve in her small, familiar bedroom, but the safety it once offered felt distant and elusive.
Outside, the sound of voices interrupted her thoughts.
"Father-in-law, I'll go wake her up myself," Ye Tianlin's unmistakable voice drifted through the thin walls.
Her heart sank. The devil himself had arrived.
The door creaked open, and there he stood, as self-assured and magnetic as ever. His sharp features and piercing eyes carried the same overconfidence that made her stomach churn.
"Awake already? You must be thrilled to see me," he teased with a smirk.
"Thrilled isn't the word I'd use," she muttered under her breath, pulling the blanket closer to shield herself from his overbearing presence.
Ye Tianlin approached with deliberate steps, his shadow looming over her bed. "You've been a good girl," he said, his tone mockingly soft. "No escape attempts last night. Impressive."
Her glare shot daggers, but his smirk only widened.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But don't think for a second I didn't consider the possibility. You're just clever enough to make me cautious."
Later, at the breakfast table, 梁 Xiaoluo endured the charade of domestic bliss as Ye Tianlin charmed her father and stepmother. His every word was calculated, his smile flawless. The casual way he interacted with her family only deepened her despair.
But beneath his polished exterior, she could sense the dangerous undercurrents of his temper—always ready to erupt if she stepped out of line.
As they prepared to leave, Ye Tianlin leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "Remember, Xiaoluo," he said softly, "there's no escaping me. Run if you want, but I'll find you."
She shivered as his words sank in, and for a fleeting moment, she considered giving in—letting him win. But deep down, a flicker of defiance remained.
She wouldn't give up, not yet.
Elsewhere…
Nan Shaojie sat in his darkened study, replaying Nightwing's cryptic words in his mind. The man's veiled threats and insinuations gnawed at him, pushing him closer to the edge.
"Why her?" he murmured to himself, his voice laced with anguish.
Nightwing's parting words echoed in his mind like a haunting refrain: Protect her well, or lose her forever.
But protect her from what? Or who?
One thing was clear: answers wouldn't come easily.
With renewed determination, Nan Shaojie vowed to uncover the truth—about Nightwing, about the past, and about the danger threatening the only woman he had ever truly loved.