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The ancient town of Qinghe was beautiful, its air seemingly purer than that outside, yet none of this brought any comfort to Lucy Xu’s troubled heart.

Her mood remained dark and heavy, a swelling fury lodged deep within her chest that seemed impossible to release. It weighed down her stomach, souring her view of everything around her.

This anger was almost indelible; even when momentarily subdued, it surged back fiercely whenever she was alone, emerging from every shadow to overwhelm her, pressing down on her chest like an unbearable weight.

Her mind replayed the events from two months prior—the letter she received accusing her father of infidelity, challenging her to verify it at a certain restaurant.

Naturally, she didn’t believe it. How could she? Hanrui Xu loved her dearly. Since childhood, he cradled her as she learned to paint, called her his princess, hoisted her on his shoulders like a horse; a single cry from her and he would give her anything she wished.

He was the best man in the world, the best father.

Yet, driven by suspicion, she went to that restaurant with her close friends and attendants, ready for confrontation.

There, she saw Hanrui Xu dining intimately with a strange woman and the detestable new transfer student, Mengrui Xu, who had only recently enrolled at her school. The girl called Hanrui "Dad" repeatedly, and the three behaved like a family of three.

It was like a lightning bolt struck her head. After a brief dazed moment, a fierce wave of betrayal and anger surged through her brain, demolishing all reason.

She stormed in, demanded answers, caused a scene, nearly wrecking the entire restaurant. What followed was like a storm ravaging a city—everything shattered, leaving only an irreparable ruin.

When Hanrui Xu flung a divorce agreement at her, telling her and Song Yu to leave, and when Mengrui flashed a victorious smile at her, Lucy realized she had walked right into a trap. The letter had been sent by Mengrui herself, designed precisely for this.

If she had warned Song Yu in advance, they might have handled things more skillfully. If only she had kept calm, they might have avoided this fate. But she hadn’t. She had been so easily deceived by someone like Mengrui.

Betrayed by the father she trusted and revered, manipulated by a despised rival, humiliated before her friends, and dragging her mother into this shame—these all fueled a deep well of anger and resentment.

Lucy Xu sat on a lonely bench by the river, her eyes, always sharp and critical, now vacant, stripped of all defiance. She looked lost and fragile.

A group of children emerged from an alleyway. One chubby boy brandished a large Häagen-Dazs ice cream, boasting to his friends, pointing at one child: “If you all stop playing with Zhang Hong, I’ll share this with you.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t give me any meatballs at school!”

“But... there was only one meatball...”

“Even if there’s one, you have to give it to me! If I say I want it, I get it!”

“Fine, I won’t play with Zhang Hong. You give me ice cream!”

“I want some too!” The children swarmed the boy, eager for the treat. The chubby boy hesitated, then raised the ice cream to run off—only to trip a few steps later.

With a thud, his solid, meatball-like body collided against Lucy’s leg. The melting ice cream splattered onto her knee, smearing thickly across her black knee-high socks.

The boy panicked, stood up and tried to run, but Lucy grabbed his collar and pulled him back.

“Let go of me!” he screamed shrill and piercing, struggling fiercely.

Lucy tossed him aside; he tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground, dazed and stunned. His precious ice cream smashed onto the ground.

He was about to scream again when a shadow suddenly loomed over them. Lucy scraped the ice cream off her sock and slapped him across the mouth.

“Weren’t you wanting ice cream? Eat this!”

The boy’s mouth was stuffed with the cold, sticky mess, his nose and mouth pressed shut—he couldn’t scream.

“If you make mistakes, you have to apologize. No apology means punishment. Understand?”

Intimidated by Lucy’s fierce gaze, he dared not yell, only sobbing and nodding tearfully.

She released him but did not let him off so easily. Fixing him with a theatrical stare, she said dramatically, “My goodness, you’re the fattest, ugliest kid I’ve ever seen. Don’t your parents feel ashamed to show their faces with a child like you?”

The boy stared blankly.

Lucy looked at the other kids, frozen in place like quail under her gaze, and said, “Ugly is contagious. If you don’t want to be as ugly as him, don’t play with him. Zhang Hong, right? Come here.”

The named child timidly stepped forward.

Lucy pulled a pink bill from her wallet. “Big sister will buy you something to share—but not for this ugly fat kid. Got it?”

“Y-yes, thank you, big sister!” The children ran off happily, leaving the chubby boy to suddenly realize what had happened and burst into tears. Lucy grumbled as she walked away.

Her socks were filthy now, the liquid soaked through and sticky, chilling her knee. She was so angry she wanted to rip off the socks and stuff them into that boy’s mouth.

“What a cursed morning...” she muttered.

She had to find a convenience store to buy a new pair of socks. Though cheap and smelly, it was better than continuing to wear these dirty ones. She paid quickly, then sat outside the shop to remove her socks and put on the new pair.

Her skin was fair and luminous, glowing like pearls in the sunlight. Even her toes looked sculpted and delicate. She stretched the black socks with her fingers, slowly pulling them on, the elastic snapping firmly above her knees, hugging her slender legs.

Chongjing Li felt a sudden, inexplicable snap inside himself. He turned away, blinking long eyelashes rapidly, leaning against the alley wall with his heart pounding and breath growing shallow.

When he realized it, he had been following Lucy Xu all along, doing something utterly pointless yet not feeling bored or wasting time, forgetting his grandmother waiting at home with a bottle of soy sauce for cooking.

He stared at the socks she’d tossed on the ground. Was she discarding them? Her clothes looked expensive; if someone picked them up, it would be a bargain for them. Who knew what perverts might do with a girl’s socks? His eyelashes twitched, and his long, slender fingers curled slightly.

Wait—what are you thinking? What are you doing?

Suddenly awakened, Chongjing paused, about to leave, but his feet felt as if weighed down by a thousand pounds—he couldn’t lift them.

Lucy, having changed her socks, was in an even worse mood, losing all interest in wandering. She only wanted to go home.

She hadn’t walked far when a figure suddenly darted from an alley, cloaked in a military coat, reeking of a foul stench as he brushed past her. Lucy nearly vomited. As the man passed, the coat’s hem fluttered, revealing something filthy.

The madman stopped abruptly in front of Chongjing, pulling open his coat with a “whoa,” laughing as he bared his naked torso.

“Hey, little Chong, look!”

Chongjing’s face darkened, his expression souring.

He had truly had enough of this lunatic and wanted to smash the soy sauce bottle on his head, but he couldn’t.

“Oh dear, how pitiful. How dumb can you be?”

“Chong, he’s like this. Be sensible and let him be.”

“You’re all guys anyway. Just look, no real harm done.”

“Chong, as healers we must be compassionate. He’s not doing it on purpose.”

The voices of neighbors and his grandmother echoed in his mind. Since the disgusting man only frightened Chongjing and not others—or tourists—everyone tolerated him. If anyone was harsh, others would defend the madman, saying he was already pitiful, and neighbors should not be cruel.

His family would also cause a scene demanding apologies or compensation.

But Lucy was clearly an outsider, probably a tourist, and that was a different matter. Everyone sided with her.

That said, when girls get scared by an exhibitionist, they usually scream and back off. Who had ever seen one rush forward to beat him up? Especially someone so young, clearly just a child.

Perhaps that was why the madman’s family arrived and quickly apologized, not daring to demand compensation or apologies, hurrying away to avoid a report from Lucy.

Community workers had educated them: as long as the beating wasn’t excessive, it was self-defense or even heroic to help others. They likely wouldn’t be prosecuted; they might even counter-sue.

Lucy’s day had been cursed to the extreme. She came out for relaxation but ended up having to punch the Beihai Kindergarten and kick the Nanshan Nursing Home. Her hands trembled with fury.

She returned to the convenience store to buy another pair of knee-high socks—after all, she had just encountered something disgusting. To her surprise, it was the last pair available.

“Try the little supermarket down Li Er Alley. They should have some,” the shopkeeper directed her.

Lucy could no longer tolerate the socks on her feet. Gritting her teeth, she hurried to the supermarket.

Chongjing followed, pondering how best to calm her. How did her family soothe her?

Once she bought the socks, Lucy immediately took off the dirty pair, disgusted, and tossed them into the trash bin outside the supermarket. Putting on the fresh pair, her expression softened slightly.

As she walked out of the alley, she called her driver to pick her up.

Suddenly, a voice shouted behind her: “Watch out!”

A fierce gust blew past. Lucy’s reflexes, honed by training, tensed instantly as she ducked just in time. A baseball bat swung overhead, missing her by inches with terrifying force.

Several blond thugs emerged from the streets, surrounding her; some wielded baseball bats.

Without warning, they attacked.

These were no ordinary students like Yu Mingwan’s. They were street fighters, skilled and brutal, strong and ruthless. Outnumbered and outmatched, Lucy quickly found herself on the defensive.

Chongjing dashed into the nearest breakfast shop. “Uncle Zhang, lend me something!”

The bat swung again from behind. Lucy dodged but wasn’t fast enough; a heavy blow struck her shoulder with a sickening crack. Pain exploded in her brain, momentarily blanking her mind.

It was the first time she’d ever felt such intense pain.

The bat came again, aimed at her head.

Suddenly, white mist from a fire extinguisher blasted into the thugs’ faces, filling their mouths and noses with choking dry ice. Instinctively, they staggered back, shielding themselves.

One by one, they were kicked down.

“Bang!” A bottle of soy sauce smashed onto someone’s head, shattering.

Lucy caught the faint, bitter aroma just as a dry warm hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet.

A clear, youthful voice whispered urgently, “Go!”

---

“Why did they let him out again?”

“You scared the poor girl!”

“She’s okay. Don’t worry, he’s just a madman.”

The crowd gathered quickly.

This lunatic was infamous in Qinghe Ancient Town but only frightened Chongjing, not others or tourists, so everyone was tolerant. If anyone got rough, neighbors would defend him, saying he was already pitiful.

His family would make a fuss, demanding apologies or compensation.

But Lucy was an outsider—possibly a tourist—and that changed everything. They all sided with her.

Still, most girls would scream and retreat when faced with such a man. Who had ever seen one rush in to thrash him? Especially someone so young.

Because of this, the madman’s family came apologizing profusely and left quickly, afraid Lucy would report them.

Community workers had warned them: as long as the violence wasn’t excessive, it was self-defense or even heroic aid, and likely no charges would be filed—maybe even countercharges.

Lucy’s day was utterly cursed. She came to relax, but ended up having to punch and kick at places like Beihai Kindergarten and Nanshan Nursing Home, her hands trembling with rage.

She returned to the convenience store again for another pair of socks, unable to bear the dirty ones on her feet. But this time, the last pair had just been sold.

“Try Li Second Alley; there’s a small supermarket there. They should have some,” the shopkeeper said.

Lucy couldn’t stand the socks another minute. Gritting her teeth, she hurried to the small market.

Chongjing followed, wondering how best to soothe her. How did her family calm her down?

After buying the socks, Lucy quickly swapped them out, threw the filthy pair into the trash outside, and felt a bit better.

As she walked out, she called her driver.

Suddenly, a shout came from behind: “Watch out!”

A strong gust swept past. Lucy’s trained reflexes snapped taut as she ducked just in time. A baseball bat swept over her head with terrifying force.

Several blond thugs emerged, surrounding her, some wielding bats.

Without hesitation, they attacked.

These weren’t ordinary students but street fighters—strong, skilled, and ruthless. Outnumbered and armed, Lucy soon fell behind.

Chongjing ran into a nearby breakfast shop. “Uncle Zhang, lend me something!”

The bat swung again. Lucy dodged partly but was hit on the shoulder with a sickening crack. Pain exploded, her mind blanked.

It was the first time she’d felt such pain.

As the bat aimed for her head, white mist from a fire extinguisher blasted into the thugs’ faces, choking them and forcing them to stagger back.

One by one, they were kicked down.

“Bang!” A soy sauce bottle smashed on someone’s head, breaking.

Lucy smelled the faint bitter scent as a warm, dry hand gripped her wrist, pulling her up.

A clear young voice whispered sharply, “Go!”