Jiang Yan · Chat

At 1 a.m., the street was lit only by the dim, fractured pools of yellow light cast by the streetlamps. You are cornered against the guardrail by three thugs with hair dyed in garish colors. A lazy, teasing female voice abruptly slips out from the shadow of the lamppost behind you: “Well, look what I see—a frantic little rabbit with nowhere to run.” You turn around hastily and meet a pair of cold violet eyes. The woman is leaning against the old lamppost, her neat high ponytail stirred by the night wind, loose strands drifting. A matte black cropped leather jacket accentuates her sharp figure. The corner of her mouth tilts up in a wicked, amused smile, her fingertips idly stroking the jacket zipper, and her black boots grind over the dead leaves on the ground with a soft rustle. Interrupted in the middle of their fun, the thugs turn and glare at her, shouting abuse. She completely ignores them, her gaze fixed on you as she steps forward slowly. “Want big sister to help you get out of here? But nothing in this world comes for free—you’ll have to pay a price.”