Regarding the plot of this sea party, Jian Youyou had studied it carefully. The novel described it as extremely lavish, and just reading about it on paper made her feel intoxicated by the extravagance. But when she actually boarded the ship, she finally understood what it meant to be dazzled.
Tonight, the sky was filled with stars, and there wasn’t even a whisper of wind. The party was held on the top deck of the cruise ship, surrounded by a crystal-clear transparent ceiling. A massive, opulent chandelier hung from the very center of the ceiling, its multicolored lights swirling like flowing silk, slowly rotating and casting an eight-level-filter-like glow over everyone, making them all appear breathtakingly beautiful.
However, Jian Youyou was only briefly fascinated by the dreamy decorations and the ambiguous atmosphere where locking eyes with anyone could spark instant romance. Her attention was quickly stolen by the array of exquisite dishes laid out on the long dining tables.
Humans have countless desires—for beauty, for money, for all kinds of precious and wonderful things. But when it comes to food, that’s the easiest craving to satisfy.
When Jian Youyou and Yu Hekun boarded the ship, she had been worried that his injuries might hinder him—his legs not fully healed, his waist still weak, and his eyes bruised. She feared he might struggle to move around comfortably.
So throughout the boarding process, she subtly exerted herself, supporting most of Yu Hekun’s weight on her own. Yu Hekun cooperated perfectly. Jian Youyou had originally thought that, given his stubborn insistence on hiding his injuries, he’d find a spot to sit quietly after boarding and avoid unnecessary movement to prevent aggravating his condition.
But Yu Hekun truly lived up to his reputation as the king of putting on a front. Before boarding, he had practically wanted Jian Youyou to carry him on her back. Yet the moment he stepped onto the ship and saw people, he immediately straightened up, no longer leaning on Jian Youyou like a limp rag. His posture was straighter than a young poplar tree—so much so that if Jian Youyou hadn’t known the truth, she might have mistaken him for a picture of robust health.
And for some reason today, Jian Youyou felt his legs looked unnaturally long—like they defied the laws of anatomy. Was it just the outfit?
The party hadn’t officially started yet. Jian Youyou followed Yu Hekun to the lower deck to meet Zhan Cheng, the host of tonight’s event. The moment she saw Zhan Cheng, her eyes lingered a little too long, earning her a sharp pinch on the softest part of her arm from Yu Hekun.
Jian Youyou wanted to retaliate, but when she raised her foot, she remembered Yu Hekun was still injured and decided to let it slide—for now.
Once Zhan Cheng left the room, Yu Hekun flung Jian Youyou’s hand away and slumped into a chair, his expression sour.
"Did I bring you out here just to embarrass me?" Yu Hekun crossed his legs, fingers drumming impatiently on the sofa. "Wipe the drool off your chin. Your eyes were practically glued to Zhan Cheng just now. What, thinking of switching sugar daddies?"
Jian Youyou didn’t quite understand why Yu Hekun was so angry, so she stoked the flames further. "Is he really your friend? Why does he look like a teenager while you’re so mature?"
Zhan Cheng had a baby face, though he was actually two years older than Yu Hekun. His slight build made him appear younger, and despite being a cunning old fox, he always maintained an innocent demeanor. Among their circle, those who disliked him privately called him a "pretty boy."
This guy had been effortlessly charming women since childhood—while others spent money to woo girls, he sometimes even made a profit from it.
Seeing Jian Youyou’s reaction, Yu Hekun assumed she’d been shallowly enchanted by Zhan Cheng and couldn’t contain his irritation.
"I haven’t complained about your looks, and now you’re calling me old?" Yu Hekun pointed at her. "Pack your things and get out when we get back!"
Jian Youyou grabbed his finger, glanced back to confirm the door was closed and they were alone, then leaned in with a smile. She knelt on the sofa beside him, her fitted dress tightening to outline her alluring figure.
"Jealous?" She playfully bit Yu Hekun’s finger, making him yank his hand back. He pushed at her stomach. "Get away from me. Disgusting."
"Me? Jealous? Of you?" Yu Hekun scoffed, side-eyeing her. "Know your place. You’re just—"
"Just a vase you bought to admire and play with," Jian Youyou finished without a shred of wounded pride. "I know my role perfectly. I belong to you. I was just curious about your friend—how could I possibly like some underdeveloped brat? I only have eyes for a handsome, mature man like you, Kun-ge."
Every time Jian Youyou spouted such shameless flattery, Yu Hekun would get goosebumps, verbally berating her with a "Get lost," while secretly enjoying it a little. His pushing hands lacked conviction.
But just then, the door swung open, and the "underdeveloped brat" from Jian Youyou’s mouth appeared in the doorway. Zhan Cheng was genuinely surprised by their position—after all, he knew Yu Hekun’s temperament better than anyone.
Since when did Yu Hekun let any woman cling to him like this? Even if he immediately shoved Jian Youyou away the moment Zhan Cheng entered.
Zhan Cheng couldn’t help but study Jian Youyou more closely. At a glance, he could see traces of Huo Jiaoyue in her features—not a perfect match, but a resemblance nonetheless. Her figure wasn’t bad either; she’d make a decent companion for passing the time.
Zhan Cheng was used to these kinds of arrangements. What intrigued him was how Yu Hekun had finally loosened up. Everyone in their close circle knew about Yu Hekun’s lingering fixation on Huo Jiaoyue, but none of them mistook it for genuine devotion. They all assumed he just hadn’t explored enough.
Zhan Cheng even suspected that Yu Hekun wasn’t truly hung up on Huo Jiaoyue herself—he just had a type, and Huo Jiaoyue happened to be unique. After years of not finding another like her, he’d convinced himself she was irreplaceable.
In Zhan Cheng’s eyes, Jian Youyou was even lower than the "vase" Yu Hekun called her. But Zhan Cheng was a master of masking disdain with flattery, so he theatrically covered his eyes at the door.
"Oh dear, my timing is terrible! I’ve interrupted something important," he exclaimed dramatically. "I’ll leave right away. Little sister-in-law, you two carry on!"
If Jian Youyou had been the typical gold-digger, hearing her patron’s friend call her "sister-in-law" might have inflated her ego, making her overestimate her position and act foolishly.
But Jian Youyou wasn’t after status—she was after money, plain and simple. Her goal was straightforward: Yu Hekun could let her take this world’s wealth back home, so in her eyes, he was like a customer at her family’s shop—a god to be worshipped.
She’d happily elevate him to the heavens—during "business hours."
Since he’d clearly minded her staring at Zhan Cheng earlier, Jian Youyou’s expression when she looked at Zhan Cheng again was entirely different.
No shy, smug smiles. No awkward fumbling like Zhan Cheng expected. Instead, she gave him a dismissive glance, as if he weren’t even there, and leaned closer to Yu Hekun, whispering, "Kun-ge, why do your legs look so long today?"
Her hand even reached out to touch them. "Aren’t you in pain, sitting like that with your injuries?"
She spoke in a low voice, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. Yu Hekun glanced at Zhan Cheng, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Zhan Cheng, however, took a look at the pale nape of Jian Youyou’s neck as she leaned toward Yu Hekun, and the corner of his mouth curled up imperceptibly.
What a high-level white lotus.
Zhan Cheng walked in with a grin. "Hekun, let’s head outside. The party’s started, and almost everyone’s here today. A couple of families asked me to connect them with you—they’ve got a project they want to collaborate on."
Yu Hekun’s expression turned serious as he nodded, then looked at Jian Youyou. "You, go outside."
Jian Youyou finally realized why Yu Hekun’s legs looked so long today. When he stood up, it wasn’t obvious, but with one leg crossed over the other, his heel practically reached the edge of the seat—he was wearing shoe lifts.
Bad legs and still wearing lifts? This guy’s so vain it’s ridiculous.
"What are you staring at?" Yu Hekun frowned slightly, noticing Jian Youyou’s gaze fixed on his feet. He immediately uncrossed his legs and shot her a glare. "Get out."
Jian Youyou obediently replied with an "Oh" and walked toward the door.
With only Zhan Cheng and Yu Hekun left in the room, Zhan Cheng raised an eyebrow at Yu Hekun. "So? What do you think? I told you—you just have a thing for Huo Jiaoyue’s type. This one might not be quite on that level, but she’s not bad, right?"
Yu Hekun scowled. "Stop talking nonsense. I just need a regular plus-one for events. Don’t bring up pointless topics. Where’s your little rascal?"
"His teacher’s got him running wild outside," Zhan Cheng said. "Ah, speaking of which, I’ve got my eye on this kindergarten teacher lately. A bit dull, but she’s different from the rest. Comes to my place and just takes care of the kid—my nanny’s practically got nothing to do now."
Yu Hekun gave him a disapproving look. "Your kid’s not that young anymore. You should settle down with someone reliable. Messing around like this isn’t good for him—kids from unstable homes don’t grow up healthy."
"Hekun, my dude," Zhan Cheng groaned, rubbing his hands together. "Spare me the lecture. You’re a whole year younger than me."
Zhan Cheng knew Yu Hekun had been deeply affected by his family moving overseas when he was young. But Zhan Cheng already had a kid, his family business was thriving, and his parents had retired, leaving him unchecked. He had no intention of settling down—what was wrong with being free?
"Still no luck finding the kid’s mom?" Yu Hekun asked, as he did every time they met. Zhan Cheng pressed his lips together, exasperated. "No, no. Let’s just go outside already. It’s my birthday today—twenty-six, a big one. Don’t ruin the mood, Hekun."
Yu Hekun gave up and stopped talking. He had his own mess to deal with—Zhan Cheng’s chaotic life wasn’t something he could fix anyway.
That said, Zhan Cheng’s kid was a bit of a wild story. Because of his harmless looks, he was a magnet for women, and he’d played around a lot. But he had his own rules: when he was with someone, he never messed around with others, and after a breakup, he was generous—some even stayed friends with him. So, he’d never caused any major scandals.
But the kid had been dropped off at the Zhan family’s doorstep, claimed to be Zhan Cheng’s. At first, Zhan Cheng thought it was a prank, but after multiple paternity tests, it was confirmed—the kid was his. The Zhan elders adored him, so just like that, Zhan Cheng became a father.
As for the kid’s mother? No trace of her. Zhan Cheng went through all his exes but found nothing. Now, five years later, the kid was five, and Zhan Cheng had somehow become a halfway decent dad.
Yu Hekun followed Zhan Cheng to the party. The crowd erupted in excitement at Zhan Cheng’s arrival—confetti flew, gifts piled up in front of him, and with his kid in his arms, he blew out the candles. The pop of champagne bottles signaled the start of the revelry.
True to form, Yu Hekun was the odd one out among these rich second-gen heirs. While others cuddled their dates or gambled for fun (small stakes, just for kicks), Yu Hekun stood in a quiet corner with two older men, champagne in hand, discussing business.
These "dad-aged" men didn’t really belong at Zhan Cheng’s party—they were here specifically to talk deals with Yu Hekun.
The three of them were like an invisible boundary in the corner, completely out of sync with the party’s vibe. But it wasn’t that unusual, and it didn’t dampen anyone else’s fun.
Zhan Cheng was surrounded by a crowd, a silly birthday hat perched on his head. Men and women flitted around the party like butterflies, while his kid, under the care of the kindergarten teacher (and Zhan Cheng’s next romantic target), dashed around excitedly.
Jian Youyou had been waiting by the long table since stepping outside. According to the plot, a big scene was about to unfold here—starting with Fang Qianli, the kindergarten teacher Zhan Cheng had brought along (and Jian Youyou’s supposed former colleague). Later, because of the original character’s desperate attempts to distance herself, the drama would backfire onto her.
The original Jian You wasn’t a match for these women—all sweet on the surface but high-class vipers—and ended up humiliated. Yu Hekun, by extension, lost face too, setting the stage for his later disgust with her in contrast to his white moonlight, Huo Jiaoyue.
Jian Youyou wasn’t planning to avoid the mess. She wanted to follow the script—the uglier, the better. That way, she could wrap up the plot quickly and go home with her breakup payout.
Sure enough, not long into the party, a woman in an evening gown, struggling to move gracefully, came running toward the long table, chasing after a child.
This woman was none other than Fang Qianli, Jian Youyou’s supposed colleague and fellow kindergarten teacher. Later, she’d get tangled up with Zhan Cheng—only to be dumped.
"Rascal, slow down, slow down!" The pair weaved through the crowd, Fang Qianli looking nervous, apologizing to everyone they bumped into.
Jian Youyou watched them approach. According to the script, the kid would tug on the tablecloth, causing a candle holder to topple. Fang Qianli would rush to catch it, accidentally bumping into a cannon-fodder female character’s wine glass, spilling it all over her. The woman would make a scene, calling over her friends to humiliate Fang Qianli.
A classic setup—poor girl gets bullied by the mean rich girl, only for the dashing male lead to swoop in and save her.
Except, not every poor girl was the heroine. Without that status, there’d be no prince charming to rescue her. A dress bought with two months’ wages couldn’t compare to the spoiled girl’s designer outfit. Cinderella didn’t always get her happy ending just because she wore a pretty dress.
But some people never learned that lesson.
Right on cue, Jian Youyou stuffed a mini cake into her mouth as she watched Zhan Cheng’s little rascal duck under the tablecloth and give it a yank. Fang Qianli gasped in panic. "Rascal, watch out!"
Jian Youyou still had a bite of cake in her mouth when her gaze shifted from Fang Qianli, who had just let out a startled cry, to the little kid who had crawled out from under the tablecloth. Sure enough, a candlestick was tipping over—a close call. The candle fell out as it toppled, and the sharp metal tip was now aimed directly at the back of the child’s head.
Jian Youyou knew the plot. She knew Fang Qianli would rush over and prevent disaster. Yet, without thinking, she reached out and snatched the candlestick just two fingers’ width away from the kid’s skull, lifting it high. A cascade of delicate pastries rained down on the child’s head, and though the little one wasn’t seriously hurt, the small plates bonking him made him whimper in pain.
Zhan Cheng, who had witnessed the whole scene from a distance, pushed through the crowd and ran over. He scooped the child from Fang Qianli’s arms, cradling him against his shoulder to soothe him. The room fell silent—even the music had stopped—and every eye turned to Jian Youyou, lingering on her hand that had miraculously caught the candlestick like some kind of clairvoyant.
The moment was bizarre. Jian Youyou swallowed the cake in her mouth, a smudge still clinging to the corner of her lips, and locked eyes with Zhan Cheng’s complicated gaze.
Damn it.
She saw Fang Qianli standing unharmed, not colliding with the cannon-fodder woman in the red dress behind her. Zhan Cheng hadn’t panicked over an injured child, rushing off to find the ship’s doctor, which meant the scheming women who would’ve taken the chance to bully Fang Qianli had no opening.
She’d ruined the plot.
Jian Youyou wanted to stomp on the hand that had grabbed the candlestick—why did you have to meddle?
Soft music started up again, and someone whistled at her. Then applause broke out.
“That was insane! Did you see how fast she moved?”
“Who is she? That dress is gorgeous—isn’t that this year’s Seven Couture exclusive?”
“I saw! She was sneaking a bite when she grabbed the candlestick—one hand saving the kid, the other still stuffing cake in her mouth. Adorable.”
“Thank you,” Zhan Cheng said, his boyish face breaking into a sincere, grateful smile.
Jian Youyou internally groaned.
She flicked her fingers, still dusted with crumbs, and sighed. “No problem. You should get him checked, just in case.”
Zhan Cheng immediately carried the child off to find the ship’s doctor.
Setting the candlestick down, she wiped her mouth and instinctively scanned the room for Yu Hekun. The plot was in shambles—what now?
But the two middle-aged men Yu Hekun had been talking to earlier were still there. He wasn’t. As the music swelled, the near-disaster was quickly forgotten.
Jian Youyou lingered by the table, thinking hard, when Fang Qianli—left behind by Zhan Cheng—hesitantly approached.
“Youyou… you haven’t been back to school lately. Are you… doing okay?”
She was clearly forcing herself to stay composed. That moment had terrified her—if something had happened to Zhan Cheng’s child while under her care, the consequences would’ve been unthinkable.
According to the plot, Jian Youyou wasn’t supposed to acknowledge Fang Qianli. She was meant to act like she belonged to high society, setting herself up for humiliation later.
But her meddling had killed the plot at its root. Ignoring Fang Qianli now wouldn’t fix anything. Seeing how shaken the girl was, Jian Youyou sighed and muttered, “Not great. Serving a rich guy with a million annoying habits—how good could it be?”
Fang Qianli paled, and Jian Youyou thought she might be reconsidering her choices. So she added, “You shouldn’t be here. Zhan Cheng didn’t invite you out of kindness.”
Fang Qianli’s role in the main plot ended after tonight, but later, she’d suffer over Zhan Cheng. Jian Youyou hoped her harsh words, combined with how Zhan Cheng had ignored Fang Qianli after taking the child, might wake her up.
Fang Qianli’s face twisted with humiliation. She mumbled something and fled. Jian Youyou’s eyes flicked to the woman in red, wondering if she could salvage the plot herself.
Before she could strategize, a voice dripping with fury cut in from behind her.
“‘Not great. Serving a rich guy with a million annoying habits.’ Must be so hard for you.”
Goosebumps prickled Jian Youyou’s neck. The music had shifted to a lively dance tune, and couples were already pairing up. She turned stiffly—only to meet Yu Hekun’s stormy glare.
Of course. She spent every day showering him with praise, and the one time she badmouthed him, he overheard. What were the odds?
“H-Hekun…?” she stammered.
Yu Hekun scoffed, shooting her an icy look before turning on his heel. His strides were long today—too long—and though his polished shoes made no sound on the carpet, each step might as well have crushed Jian Youyou’s heart.
This was bad. Yu Hekun already threatened daily to kick her out. How was she supposed to smooth this over?
“Hekun! Hekun!” She chased after him, catching up on the deck.
The sea breeze carried a briny tang as she grabbed his arm. “I didn’t mean it! I’m happy, really! I love being with you—”
“You love my money,” Yu Hekun spat, his expression glacial. He didn’t know why those words had ignited something in him—a tiny spark that had flared hotter as he walked away, burning until even the ocean wind couldn’t cool the heat in his face.
Especially when Jian Youyou tossed out I love you so casually. He’d heard it a thousand times before, never taking it seriously. Who’d believe something said so carelessly? Only an idiot.
And now, standing by the railing, Yu Hekun felt like the biggest idiot of all.
So he wrenched his arm free, lashing out like a pufferfish inflating in self-defense.
“Save the act for your next sugar daddy,” he sneered. “Isn’t that why you came here? To scout your next target?”
His smile was almost savage. “Since I’m so unbearable, go ahead. Find someone else.”
Jian Youyou glanced around—some people had already come out to watch the commotion after hearing the noise. She bit her lip and moved closer to Yu Hekun, grabbing his arm, only for him to shake her off again, this time with such force that it was clear he was furious. "Get lost! Don't touch me—disgusting!"
"I'm too difficult to handle, so go find someone else. Don’t ever show your face in front of me again." Yu Hekun had never been one to control his emotions. He had the privilege to act spoiled and the confidence that even if he dumped this woman today, no one in Zhouning City would dare lay a finger on her.
But what he didn’t realize was that right now, he looked like nothing more than a hysterical shrew—and all because of that one sentence Jian Youyou had said.
Jian Youyou was both exasperated and amused. "I really just said it offhand! Who else would I go for? No one compares to you." No one else has as much money as you.
But this time, Yu Hekun wasn’t falling for her sweet talk. "Offhand?" He scoffed, his gaze fixed on the dark sea. "Everything you say is offhand." He took a deep breath, forcing down the turmoil in his chest, then pinched the bridge of his nose and said coldly, "Get lost. Go find someone easier to deal with. Or do you need me to introduce you to one?"
This was beyond childish. Jian Youyou had always suspected Yu Hekun had some kind of mental disorder, but now it seemed he also suffered from emotional immaturity. Just one sentence—and he was the one who constantly reminded her she was just a stand-in—yet here he was, throwing a tantrum and telling her to find someone else.
Jian Youyou decided to ignore the onlookers. If she didn’t placate this overgrown man-child, he might actually break up with her before they even got off the ship.
She was frustrated. Not only had she failed to progress the plot, but she’d also managed to send Yu Hekun into a meltdown. The man’s pettiness was truly astounding.
She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Brother Kun, I was wrong. I really was. Don’t be mad. Everything I’ve ever said to you is true—I don’t want anyone but you."
The words rolled off her tongue effortlessly, so much so that the spectators chuckled. This was hardly sincerity—it was the kind of cheap, manipulative drivel a low-tier playboy would use to sweet-talk an innocent girl into bed.
Yu Hekun, who had been fooled for days, suddenly saw the light. He realized what he held wasn’t a delicate cookie but a splintered piece of wood.
With eerie calm, he pushed Jian Youyou away, putting distance between them. "You think I’m a three-year-old."
Internally, Jian Youyou wholeheartedly agreed—five years old at most, if she was being generous.
But of course, she couldn’t provoke him now. She put on a pleading expression. "Brother Kun, dear Brother Kun, I really just misspoke."
Yu Hekun remained unmoved. Jian Youyou bit her lip and softened her voice further. "Brother Kun, tell me—what do I have to do for you to stop being mad? I’ll do anything, okay?"
At this point, the onlookers smirked. When things reached this stage, wasn’t the solution obvious? For people like them, the role of a mistress was an unspoken understanding. The way Yu Hekun was acting? Just foreplay.
What couldn’t be solved with a good roll in the sheets?
But Yu Hekun’s barely-five-year-old brain didn’t work like theirs. Just as the spectators were about to leave with their own mistresses to avoid intruding on the fun, Yu Hekun—this absolute blockhead—stood there fuming until his brain was completely hijacked by irrational anger. He let out a quiet, humorless laugh and pressed his lips together.
Jian Youyou inched closer again, tugging at his hand. "Brother Kun, let’s go inside. Does your leg hurt? I’ll massage it for you."
Yu Hekun looked down at her, then said after a pause, "Fine. If you want me to stop being angry—" He pointed over the railing at the pitch-black sea. "Jump."
Jian Youyou’s smile froze.
Seeing her reaction, Yu Hekun’s eyes turned even colder. "Jump, and I’ll forgive you. I’ll never tell you to get lost again."
Jian Youyou forced a stiff laugh. "Come on, Brother Kun, don’t scare me like that. Jumping from here would kill someone."
Of course, Yu Hekun didn’t actually want her to jump. Only an absolute idiot would dive into the sea from this height. The ship’s hull was far from low, and even with rescue teams on standby, bad luck could mean broken limbs, slamming into the ship and dying on impact, or even drowning after being knocked unconscious by the water’s surface.
He just wanted her to back down. Right now, he was dead serious about ending this ridiculous arrangement.
Jian Youyou glanced at the sea, then back at him, trying to defuse the situation. "Brother Kun, don’t be like this. It’s too dark down there, and I can’t even swim!"
The lingering spectators, who hadn’t left yet, paused to watch the two by the railing with keen interest.
Yu Hekun had expected this. He shoved her hand away and jabbed a finger at her forehead. "Cut the act. I’m not stupid. You claim to love me to the ends of the earth? Then prove it. Jump, and I’ll believe you."
Jian Youyou’s expression stiffened, her helpless look almost pitiful under the swaying lights.
But Yu Hekun felt nothing. The crushing sense of betrayal drowned him. He thought of his parents, who had promised him—just as casually—that they’d return soon, that they’d call every day after moving abroad.
They’d kept saying they loved him, only to vanish from his life for years.
Maybe it was the sobering sea breeze tonight, or maybe he wasn’t actually a child anymore, but Yu Hekun finally realized he’d fallen into another honeyed lie. All he wanted now was to cut himself free.
As he turned to walk back inside, Jian Youyou gritted her teeth. She could tell—this time, he meant it.
If the plot derailed here, she’d return to the real world penniless. After all these days, after buying so many bracelets she couldn’t even take back—was it all for nothing?
No. It couldn’t be.
Jian Youyou stepped up to the railing, taking a deep breath to steady herself. So what if she jumped? What was the worst that could happen?
This was just a dream anyway. If she died, she’d just wake up early.
With that, she roughly yanked the hair accessories from her head and tossed them aside, letting her long hair tumble loose in the sea breeze. She kicked off her shoes, removed the small trinkets from her hands, and placed them on the deck. Then she grabbed one of her shoes and hurled it at Yu Hekun’s retreating back.
The shoe hit him squarely. He stopped and turned, his expression—along with those of the spectators—turning grave as they all stared at Jian Youyou.
She smiled at him, shrugging helplessly. "I told you, didn’t I? I love you. You tell me to jump, and I jump. You didn’t believe me, right?"
Yu Hekun watched as her hair whipped wildly in the wind, half-obscuring her face.
"If Brother Kun wants to see it, then I’ll jump. But you have to keep your word—no more talk of breaking up."
Jian Youyou spoke briskly as she stepped onto the railing and swung herself over to the other side.
Yu Hekun turned and ran toward her, but his legs were injured, and the height-increasing insoles in his shoes made his movements unsteady. In his haste, he stumbled after just one step, collapsing to his knees as a sharp pain sent cold sweat beading across his skin.
"Youyou—" Yu Hekun scrambled up from the ground, his voice frantic. "Come down—"
But it was too late.
With a forceful push against the ship's deck outside the railing, Jian Youyou leaped into the air—like a butterfly taking flight in the night—and vanished from Yu Hekun’s sight in an instant.
"Jian You!" His voice tore through the air in a ragged cry.
