Dawn · The Qiao Mansion
As the first light of dawn pierced through the morning mist, the third son of the Qiao family personally pulled open the rear door of the black sedan.
"What time do you wrap today?" He glanced down at his schedule, his tone carrying that restrained, calculated concern unique to old-money families.
"Not sure," Ye Xiaoxiao said as she slid into the car, her voice kept low. "Not many scenes today. I'll leave as soon as I'm done."
"Then I'll pick you up at the usual time." The third brother's tone was natural yet commanding, as if this arrangement were an eternal law within the walls of the grand estate.
The engine purred to life, and the car glided through the heavy cast-iron gates of the Qiao Mansion.
Watching his silent "sister" through the rearview mirror, the third brother had no idea that within this seemingly mundane commute, Ye Xiaoxiao had already mapped out a secret navigation route in her mind—one that led straight to "another life."
Outside the Film Set
The pre-booked taxi was waiting at its usual spot.
After stepping out of the luxury sedan, Xiaoxiao didn't cast a single glance toward the entrance of the vanity fair. With practiced movements, she pulled her hat lower and adjusted her black mask, moving like a shadow blending into the cityscape as she hurried toward the opposite side of the road.
She failed to notice that this exact scene had already been replayed, memorized, and frozen in time by a pair of hidden eyes.
"Qiao Fei"—a name that commanded global radiance—had been vanishing for thirty minutes every day during her breaks for several consecutive days, only to return to her post with the precision of a Swiss watch.
Afternoon · The Hospital
For Ye Xiaoxiao, the faint scent of disinfectant in the hospital corridors was her true salvation.
She sat by the sickbed, pouring water for her mother and straightening the corners of the blanket. Her movements were so natural, as if she had performed them ten thousand times before.
"Miss Qiao, isn't it exhausting for you to run back and forth like this?" Mother Ye looked at the young socialite before her—a woman so beautiful she seemed illusory—with a hint of unease in her voice.
"It's not exhausting," Xiaoxiao smiled, handing the water cup to her mother. "It's only when I'm sitting here that I feel my heart is at peace."
What she didn't say was that this was the only way she could simultaneously guard both her "present" and her "original life."
Inside the ward, their conversations were trivial. Whether the hospital food was palatable. Whether the nurses had changed shifts. Which patient's family was arguing in the hallway again. None of these topics required the status of a "Qiao Heiress."
Mother Ye stared at her, a mixture of confusion and certainty flickering in her eyes. "I don't know why, but talking to you always feels so comforting. The moment you sit down... I feel as if Xiaoxiao has truly come back to stay with me."
Thump.
Xiaoxiao's heart felt as though it had been struck by a heavy bronze bell.
She didn't respond. She simply lowered her head, resting her hands on her lap. Her thumb unconsciously began to pick at the second knuckle of her index finger—once, then again.
It was a small habit Xiaoxiao had developed since childhood—whenever she was extremely nervous or shaken, her body would cry for help in her stead.
Mother Ye started to say more, but her gaze froze the moment it landed on those hands. After a few seconds, the old woman let out a soft, nostalgic laugh. "That little habit of yours... it's exactly like my Xiaoxiao."
Qiao Fei's (Xiaoxiao's) fingers stopped instantly.
A brief, suffocating silence fell over the room. She dared not explain, nor could she. She could only suppress the bitterness in her heart and feign nonchalance as she shifted the topic.
"Auntie... the medical bills... they haven't been too much of a burden, have they?"
Mother Ye blinked, then waved her hand dismissively. "No, no, don't you worry about us. Wayne has been a huge help. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be able to stay here with such peace of mind."
Xiaoxiao looked up, her eyes trembling slightly.
"He even hired a private caregiver at first, but I sent them away," Mother Ye said calmly, yet with a touch of resilience. "I told Wayne—his money doesn't come easy, and I'm still able-bodied. As long as the bills are covered, I'll stay by my daughter's side. That's the only way I feel steady."
Xiaoxiao looked down, her fingertips carefully tucking the blanket around her "self." Her gaze was so soft it seemed it might turn to water.
He really is still the same. A tongue as sharp as a blade, but a heart as vast as the sea.
Standing beside her, however, the soul of Qiao Fei was visibly stunned.
She looked at the girl on the bed, hearing Mother Ye's words about the medical bills. For a long time, she remained silent. Finally, she murmured in a voice full of disbelief:
"...He actually went to such lengths?"
Xiaoxiao didn't answer.
But Qiao Fei's soul was already re-evaluating Wayne in her heart. She cast her eyes down, her expression complex, as if realizing for the first time that the annoying man who always lingered by her side might not be as loathsome as she had thought.
In that moment, the three people in the room were each lost in their own thoughts: Mother Ye had found a sense of solace, Xiaoxiao had grown accustomed to this heavy protection, and Qiao Fei—she was quietly, beneath that arrogant exterior, getting to know the man she once held in contempt.
Evening · Outside the Set
As evening fell, the lights around the film set flickered on, carving a line between the ruins of the set and the prosperity of the city.
Xiaoxiao returned almost exactly on time. The crew was still packing up, and prop trucks moved in and out. She stood at her familiar spot, waiting. The third brother's car pulled up to the curb punctually.
"Waiting long?"
"Not really." She shook her head and gracefully slid into the back seat.
As the car drove away, the third brother remained oblivious. In the blank spaces of his absence, Qiao Fei's schedule had been ruthlessly dismantled, reorganized, and marked by a pair of hands hiding in the shadows.
In another dark corner, the glow of a screen reflected off a blurred face.
Route: Film Set → Hospital → Film Set.
Pattern: Fixed route, fixed time.
Defense: No bodyguards, traveling alone, zero alertness.
A message was sent, and the reply was chillingly fast.
"Confirmed?"
The person on this end of the phone curled their lips into a cold smirk and typed the final line:
"The pearl of the Qiao family, walking this path alone every day. It's foolproof."
After a brief silence, the screen lit up with one last reply:
"Then we wait for the 'perfect moment'."
Night had fully descended. Sitting in the steady sedan, Ye Xiaoxiao watched the neon lights flash past the window, completely unaware of the trap that was slowly closing around her.