IMGH Chapter 33

The Mysterious Woman

Han Yuancheng sat in his car, brows knitted with lingering worry. What had just happened was far too bizarre, and even now he had not fully processed it.

Qiu Rui had actually been trapped by an evil formation, his soul ensnared while his body lay like a vegetable, stripped of all consciousness. He had also been under Qiu Chen’s surveillance — had Qiu Rui not requested to communicate with him through written notes, Han Yuancheng would never have realized he was being watched.

The belt buckle, his phone, even inside the cigarette box — all had been fitted with miniature listening devices.

His home was surely no different. Qiu Chen had really gone all out this time. Han Yuancheng’s hands tightened sharply around the steering wheel. I underestimated Qiu Chen for far too long, and that’s how he managed to exploit such a massive opening.

Tap, tap, tap — the sound of someone rapping against the car window broke through.

Han Yuancheng snapped back to the present. Through the curtain of rain, he made out a pair of bright, glistening eyes — dark as spring water, brimming with a shimmering, liquid light.

Han Yuancheng was momentarily transfixed. He rolled the window down a crack. The young woman standing outside was soaked through, her long black hair plastered against her cheeks, making her face appear even more delicate.

“Miss, is something the matter?” he asked.

The woman glanced back in a panic, clearly frightened of something.

Han Yuancheng faintly heard shouting in the distance. The woman’s voice was urgent. “Sir, please give me a ride!”

As the shouts grew clearer — something along the lines of “Stop her, she’s a thief!” — Han Yuancheng hesitated, reluctant to invite trouble.

The shouting drew closer. The woman grew increasingly anxious. Seeing that Han Yuancheng still hadn’t moved, she suddenly yanked the car door open, sat herself down beside him without a word of explanation, and said coldly, “Drive.”

Han Yuancheng stared. I locked that door — how on earth did she get in?

“Miss, I don’t know you. Please get out of my car,” he said, determined to be rid of her.

But the woman paid him no attention. Her fingers moved nimbly, folding and creasing with startling speed, and in moments a paper dagger had taken shape in her palm.

She pressed it against Han Yuancheng’s throat and snapped, “Drive.”

Han Yuancheng froze, glancing down at the dagger at his throat, then back up at the woman with an amused, bewildered look. “Miss,” he said, a laugh escaping him, “what exactly are you doing?”

The woman curled the corner of her mouth into a cool smile. Those bright eyes of hers blinked slowly, and every trace of the helpless, frightened girl from moments ago had vanished.

Her gaze narrowed, one slender brow arching upward. “I tend to go easy on good-looking men. Behave yourself and do as I say, and I won’t make things difficult for you. But if you don’t — don’t blame the blade in my hand for having no eyes.”

By this point, Han Yuancheng was quite certain the woman was out of her mind.

The shouts were almost upon them. The woman’s eyes sharpened. She flicked her wrist, and the edge of the blade pressed flush against Han Yuancheng’s throat.

Han Yuancheng felt a sting at his neck, and something warm trickled out.

Had he not watched the woman fold the paper himself, he would never have believed it — the pain was real, and so was that cold, metallic bite against his skin. Han Yuancheng stared at her in astonishment, and under the weight of her commanding gaze, he started the car.

The sedan glided into the rain. After a moment, the woman leaned out the window and looked back. Seeing that no one was still giving chase, she finally let out a quiet breath.

She turned to glance at Han Yuancheng, who was sitting beside her looking thoroughly sullen, and broke into a bright smile. “You can stop here. Thank you for today!”

One moment a little devil wielding a blade, the next a beaming, radiant angel. Truly, women are the most changeable creatures in the world.

Han Yuancheng pulled over and pointed to the paper dagger still resting against his neck, smiling wryly. “You can take this down now.”

The woman grinned with a look of pure mischief. “What are you so afraid of, handsome? It’s just a paper knife!”

With that, she pulled it away and tossed it carelessly onto the seat, then stepped out of the car with a breezy air — and even remembered to give Han Yuancheng a cheerful wave goodbye before she went.

He watched her slight, graceful silhouette vanish into the rain and shook his head with a rueful smile. Today’s events had been one strange thing after another.

He picked up the dagger from the seat and gave it a squeeze. It was limp and soft — nothing of the sharpness or that chilling coldness from before.

Han Yuancheng turned it over, puzzled, and then — as if something had just occurred to him — he flung the car door open and ran after her. The rain was heavy, and the street held only a scattering of hurried passersby. On the waterlogged road with its rippling puddles, there was no trace of the woman anywhere.

He returned to the car, deflated, and rubbed the wound on his throat, which still ached faintly. This woman can draw blood with a paper knife, he thought. I wonder if she might be able to break the soul-trapping formation that has Qiu Rui ensnared. He felt a pang of regret at not having asked her name. Han Yuancheng committed her appearance carefully to memory, resolving to have someone look into her background.