Plan Gone Awry.

Jian Yu's heart skipped a beat. She leaned forward, her breath fogging the glass as she peered through the windshield.

Under the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, a figure lay sprawled across the asphalt, unmoving. Blood pooled steadily beneath the body, dark and glistening like oil in the faint light.

"Oh my God…" Jian Yu whispered, her voice barely audible.

She turned to the driver, her almond-shaped eyes wide with urgency. "We have to help him!"

The driver hesitated, his face shadowed with unease. "Miss, this could be dangerous. What if it's a trap? Scammers use tricks like—"

"We can't just leave him here to die!" Jian Yu interrupted, her soft voice unusually firm. She unbuckled her seatbelt, her small hands trembling as she reached for the door handle. 

"Miss, wait!" the driver called out, but Jian Yu had already stepped into the cold night.

The air bit sharply at her cheeks, her black hoodie doing little to shield her from the chill. Her heeled boots clicked against the pavement as she approached the figure, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out her thoughts.

Although she had been the refined chief editor in her past life, Jian Yu had never encountered a situation where she had to deal with blood or witness someone getting killed. Sure, she'd worked in a cutthroat business world, but she was always surrounded by a security team. Whenever a crisis arose, they handled it swiftly and reported back to her—she never had to face the danger herself.

Moreover, the company she worked for was backed by a mysterious man, someone who was feared by all the elites and powerful families. Though Jian Yu had never met him, during her five years there, no small fry dared to cross paths with anyone from the company.

But now? Now she was alone. No guards, no reinforcements—just her and a bleeding stranger in the dead of night.

"Hello?" Jian Yu called softly, her voice laced with worry. She crouched down, her knees pressing against the cold, damp ground. "Sir, can you hear me?"

Her fingers hovered above his shoulder, hesitant to touch him. Up close, she saw just how bad it was. Blood soaked his shirt, spreading like an ominous stain. Despite his age, the man's sharp features hinted at a handsomeness that time hadn't entirely eroded.

Jian Yu bit her lips, her brows furrowing. What happened to him? Was it a robbery? A fight?

"Sir," she tried again, her voice trembling. This time, she placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

The old man let out a low groan, his eyelids fluttering weakly. Relief flooded Jian Yu.

"Thank goodness," she breathed. Turning toward the taxi, she waved frantically. "Come help me! He needs to get to a hospital!"

The driver grumbled under his breath but stepped out. Together, they lifted the man into the backseat. Jian Yu cradled his head, her hands now sticky with blood. Her stomach churned, but she swallowed the nausea.

As the car sped toward the hospital, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the man's face. In the fragmented memories of the former Jian Yu, there was a vague recollection of a kind-eyed old man. Was it him?

Silver Lake Hospital Center

The hospital's emergency room was a stark contrast to the quiet streets outside. Bright fluorescent lights flickered above, casting a harsh glow over the rows of stretchers. Nurses and doctors rushed about, their voices mixing with the steady beeping of monitors and the low hum of medical equipment.

Jian Yu pressed her palms against the reception counter, her voice laced with desperation. "Please, he's badly injured! You have to help him!"

The receptionist frowned. "I'm sorry, but the emergency rooms are full tonight—"

"Admit him." A sharp, authoritative voice cut through the air.

The head nurse stepped forward, her expression unreadable as she gave a brief nod. The receptionist swallowed, quickly sliding a clipboard toward Jian Yu. "Fill these out. We'll move him to the ICU."

Jian Yu watched as the man was wheeled away, the tension in her chest easing slightly. She turned her attention to the paperwork, her pen moving swiftly across the forms. By the time she finished, the taxi driver had already said his goodbyes, leaving her alone in the sterile waiting area.

She sank into one of the steel chairs, exhaustion pressing down on her. Today had been a disaster. First, she'd spent the morning at the hospital with Grandma Jian, who was in the final stages of blood cancer. And now this—a random stranger bleeding out in the street.

Since when had she become such a good Samaritan? The Jian Yu she remembered wouldn't have cared if someone's dog died, let alone their owner.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. The screen flashed a flight reminder. Right. She had a plane to catch.

'I should leave,' she thought. 'I've done my part.'

But as she looked down the hallway where the old man had been taken, an image of Grandma Jian's frail face filled her mind. She sighed, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

The novel was toying with her. First, it dangled the hope of an easy, relaxed life. Then it threw curveballs, shutting every escape route.

"Ugh..." Jian Yu groaned, burying her face in her hands. "When I get back to my world, I'm hunting down the author who created this mess, for sure!"

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. She sat up, her almond eyes narrowing curiously toward the entrance.

A man strode in, his presence commanding enough to make the bustling hospital seem to pause. He was tall, dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged his lean frame perfectly. His dark eyes were sharp, his features chiseled and cold, like a statue carved from marble.

Jian Yu blinked, momentarily stunned.

[Wow! Did Aphrodite herself sculpt this man? Who is he?]

The man froze mid-step, his piercing gaze sweeping the room before landing on her. For a moment, his brows knit together, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face.

Jian Yu tilted her head, her ponytail brushing her shoulder.

[Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?]

As if reading her thoughts, the man quickly looked away and approached the reception desk. But his deep eyes held a flicker of rare surprise.

Did he... just hear her thoughts?