Chapter 1: Edge of a Nightmare – You Can’t Escape

Fatal Beauty Ye Yansheng × Xie Qingman

By Ling Qi

Scared?

In the deep, ink-like night, a low, cold male voice drifted lazily through the air. Scared of dying here?

The sky before dawn had plunged into its darkest hour.

The summer night wind was wild, scattering the heat through the jungle. Steep mountains rose sharply on all sides, towering into the clouds, while dense rainforest stretched into the valley. A lone moon hung among bluish-gray clouds, mirroring the hidden danger lurking in the jungle.

Xie Qingman was running out of escape routes.

Danger was closing in step by step, yet her vision in the darkness seemed veiled in a thin mist:

[Can’t see clearly.]

She still couldn’t make out his features, only a vague silhouette.

From his voice—clean and clear—he sounded young, probably around seventeen or eighteen.

[Who is he?]

There was no time to recall or ask. The figure began moving toward her at an unhurried pace.

She retreated one step.

He advanced one.

Clearly a cat-and-mouse game, yet he seemed to relish it: watching her vigilance, watching her corner herself, watching her finally yield.

What do you want?

Seeing no way out, Xie Qingman stopped in her tracks. Taking me back?

She hid her trembling hands behind her back, slowly clenched them, and lifted her gaze to the shadowy figure. Her voice was cold and steady. Or killing me—

Before she could finish the word me, her tone shifted.

A cold glint flashed from the boy’s left hand as a sharp dagger swept past Xie Qingman’s neck, cutting through the air.

Hiss—

A venomous snake, its tongue flickering, was pierced by the blade. It writhed grotesquely for a moment before being pinned to the tree trunk behind Xie Qingman.

The boy’s movements were too swift, his reactions too sharp—precise, ruthless, and fatal in a single strike.

Venom and blood dripped from the cold blade.

Ah—

It all happened too suddenly. Xie Qingman’s instinctive scream caught in her throat.

The retrieved dagger spun in the boy’s hand, tracing a cold, fluid arc.

The boy’s hair was cropped short, his skin excessively pale—a sickly, cold white, whether accentuated by the moonlight or natural, it carried a chilling, sinister aura.

He wiped the blade clean unhurriedly, his form always blurred in the shadows.

Xie Qingman unconsciously held her breath.

Accustomed to—and often the perpetrator of—such acts, the boy seemed unfazed.

But watching Xie Qingman’s pale face, he seemed amused. He lowered his head with a soft chuckle. Afraid of even a snake, yet you dared to run? I thought you had more nerve.

As he moved, a soft gleam flashed at his neck before disappearing into his collar.

It seemed to be a necklace.

[Can’t see clearly.]

Everything before her remained hazy and indistinct.

It took a long moment for Xie Qingman to find her voice again. You—

She forced herself to meet his eyes, straining to control the tremor in her voice. Why did you save me?

Her feigned composure, though he had already seen through it.

I warned you last night, the boy replied evasively, his features shrouded in shadow, his voice low and cold. This place is full of checkpoints and patrol guards. You won’t get far.He carried himself with a casual, almost nonchalant air, yet it was oppressive to the point of making one’s heart race.

His tone was disorienting.

Like pity.

For a moment, she couldn’t quite distinguish between ambiguity and threat.

So?

How about I give you a chance? The boy spun his palm, retracting the dagger and replacing it with a sniper rifle. His voice lowered, Three minutes. If you can escape my firing range, I’ll let you go.

His tone was gentle, almost coaxing, but she could sense the maliciousness in how he treated everything as a game.

Arrogant and sinister.

Xie Qingman froze for a moment.

Amid their brief exchange, lights appeared in the distance. The clamor of voices grew nearer—pursuers had caught up, and chaos reigned everywhere.

Stop!

…go to the two o’clock and nine o’clock directions…

The boy was right; this area was already under lockdown.

Within seconds, several alerted men swiftly surrounded the spot. Their awkward English was interspersed with Spanish she couldn’t understand.

The noise was overwhelming, likely shouting and cursing.

Hearing the boy intended to release Xie Qingman, one of the fat men pointed at him and rushed forward to intervene: You can’t fucking let her leave, she—

Before he could finish, the boy raised his gun and fired.

Rowan!

The muffled shot from the silencer still jolted everyone, their faces paling instantly.

Blood splattered.

The fat man collapsed to the ground, howling like a slaughtered pig, while the boy remained utterly unshaken.

His tall, straight figure resembled a sharp blade—unmistakably lethal, with hidden danger.

The stark contrast in the scene was terrifying.

Yet the boy didn’t even glance at the fat man, instead studying Xie Qingman with amusement, as if observing a pitiful prey. Not planning to run?

Silence fell abruptly.

Those lurking in the shadows, poised to interfere like venomous snakes, were forced to retreat into darkness.

Even though this boy was only in his teens, they seemed to fear and respect him—for a moment, no one dared make a move.

Under the vast, expansive sky of the borderlands, the night stars hung low, and the gradually brightening dawn seeped through the clouds.

Standing in the dim shadows, the boy chuckled softly.

What, his voice was like a demon’s whisper, tinged with mockery and deliberation, slow and meaningful, are you really planning to stay and keep me company?

With no time for questions or reflection, the moment he finished speaking, Xie Qingman turned and fled.

Dawn was approaching. The nearest landmark was a cliff, offering only an endless coastline—but she couldn’t jump. Turning back led to the jungle, which provided good cover, but it was still far away, and the ground was littered with broken branches, stones, and mud. Three minutes, 180 seconds, were far from enough to find a sniper’s blind spot.

Even a moment’s hesitation could be fatal.

She had to run—she ran for her life.

A flame flickered in the darkness as the boy lit a cigarette, his gaze half-lowered, his thoughts inscrutable.

Then, with the cigarette between his lips, he loaded his rifle behind her.

The mountains were cold, their layered peaks swallowed by the oppressive night.

She scrambled over rocks and shallow streams, the steep mountain path overgrown with weeds. Rustling sounds came from shrubs of varying heights. In the distance, the endless rainforest loomed like a cage capable of devouring everything—yet now, it was her only lifeline.

Rapid breathing, accelerated heartbeat, and ever-magnifying fear and despair swept over Xie Qingman like a tidal wave. Then the terror reached its peak.

Xie Qingman’s mind went blank; all sounds around her faded into the wind, vanishing amidst the dust of the mountain forest.

Her hands and feet turned ice-cold.

Under the night sky, a red dot aimed behind Xie Qingman as the dark muzzle of a gun pointed straight at her heart.

Bang—

After the gunshot, Xie Qingman jolted awake from her dream.

【It was a dream.】

【A nightmare.】

A bizarre nightmare that had haunted her for years.

Cold sweat dampened the hair at her temples, the fear from the dream lingering into reality.

Ron… Roan?

Xie Qingman instinctively pressed a hand to her chest, murmuring as she tried to piece together the name from her dream. Her breathing was slightly labored, her racing heart struggling to calm down.

She wanted to recall it clearly, but her memory was hazy.

Qing-jie, are you alright? Her assistant, waiting nearby, was startled by her state. Did I disturb you?

The lounge was brightly lit, the scent of sandalwood mingling with the sweet fragrance of jasmine and gardenia. The clock’s hands ticked steadily, unusually distinct in the quiet space. A translucent blue enamel clock stood opposite, displaying the time and location:

19:46, late July.

Jing City.

The lingering agitation from the nightmare persisted. Xie Qingman rubbed her brow and said, I’m fine.

She guessed it was due to recent stress and low spirits, or perhaps influenced by the script she’d read a couple of days ago—the nightmares had returned, the same one that had recurred for so long.

Similar scenes, similar endings.

Absurd and chilling.

How ridiculous.

Having worked nonstop for over half a year, Xie Qingman had barely rested.

Her last film had just wrapped. That morning, she’d been in Shenhai for promotional roadshows; at noon, she attended the wrap party, chatting and laughing; by the afternoon, she was on a flight back to the capital—all for tonight’s TOAO (The One And Only) 30th Anniversary Gala.

Arriving straight from the airport, she had hurriedly changed and dozed off in the lounge, only to fall into a deep sleep.

She was exhausted.

But there was no avoiding it. TOAO’s 30th anniversary was bound to gather industry giants—Archie and other fashion leaders, top luxury brand PRs for the China region, even global CEOs of high jewelry houses. These individuals held the luxury resources that would shape the Chinese entertainment industry for the next decade. Given prior collaborations and connections, it was inappropriate not to attend, both professionally and personally.

Meanwhile, everything in Hong Kong was proceeding as planned, settled and done.

Truthfully, it was time for her to return, though a few loose ends needed tying up—acting was her interest, and she always gave her best, but she wouldn’t stay in the entertainment industry much longer, nor had she ever planned to. Acting had been a choice driven by circumstances at the time. Its persistence now was more a matter of chance and going with the flow.

Noticing Xie Qingman’s distracted state, her assistant refrained from prying and steered the conversation back to work. The event schedule is about to begin. Should we have the stylist come for a touch-up?

Xie Qingman nodded absently.

After all, the nightmare was insignificant.

The reckless youth in her dream—she hadn’t seen him clearly, nor did she care. She could easily put it out of her mind.

Only one thing remained elusive—

Xie Qingman closed her eyes, her expression smoothing into neutrality as she stood before the full-length mirror, letting the staff attend to her.

Although the fashion industry has shown signs of decline in recent years, tonight saw the attendance of nearly all celebrities, directors, media representatives, producers, and top luxury PR professionals from the circle. One could even sense the presence of investors from Beijing, Shanghai, and Northwest China’s elite circles.

The occasion was unprecedented in scale.

The pre-event cocktail party served as tonight’s appetizer, a simple warm-up before the main event.

Under the spotlight and flashing cameras from all directions, Xie Qingman appeared in a glacier-blue dress scattered with shimmering details, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and neck. The fluid silhouette accentuated her graceful figure as she moved elegantly before the lenses.

The smoky-hued skirt trailed like a winding river, as if scattering a glittering sea of stars.

Xie Qingman possessed an intensely striking beauty—cool and elegant with willow-leaf eyebrows, limpid eyes, and delicate features reminiscent of distant mountains touched by early spring chill. She carried an ethereal fragility that could captivate crowds, tinged with a hint of allure, yet her expression remained aloof and detached—an innate sense of distance that spoke of unapproachable nobility.

In this battlefield of fame and fortune, encounters with rivals were inevitable.

Zhou Yuan, who had always been at odds with Xie Qingman, approached with impeccable makeup and a radiant smile under the camera flashes.

I heard you flew to Hengdian yesterday and were preparing for the table read, but this afternoon ‘The Third Silence’ suddenly replaced you, Zhou Yuan raised her glass with feigned sympathy. My heart ached for you when I heard the news before boarding…

How thoughtful of you to remember.

Xie Qingman responded with a light laugh and embraced her, whispering words only the two could hear: But after Noke’s stock hit the limit down, the Zhou family’s debts have become insurmountable. I’m surprised you still have the leisure to mind my affairs, Miss Zhou. What remarkable composure.

Her gentle tone belied the sharpness of her words.

If I were you, I’d go burn some incense and pray the Zhou family’s fate doesn’t worsen further.

Struck where it hurt, Zhou Yuan’s smile stiffened. However displeased, she couldn’t lose her temper publicly.

No need to be so harsh. Your hatred for my aunt stems from the inheritance dispute, doesn’t it?

She tilted her head at a perfect angle to avoid lip-reading. Pity she’s your father’s widow—legally entitled to her share. You’ve already driven her out, what more do you want? Must you be so merciless?

Who truly showed no mercy?

Xie Qingman’s gaze cooled imperceptibly.

Beneath their cordial smiles and clinking glasses for the cameras, their private exchange grew increasingly venomous.

As they separated from the embrace,

the flashing lights suddenly diminished while commotion gathered at the venue entrance.

Xie Qingman looked surprised, and even her rival Zhou Yuan appeared bewildered.

What’s happening? Look over there—they seem to be implementing security measures.

Unclear, but there usually aren’t breaking news stories before the main event. How unusual.

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

It’s… that person, someone whispered, tracing an invisible character in the air.

Soon, everyone at the cocktail party sensed the evening’s subtle shift:

Several high-ranking attendees had risen discreetly, apparently preparing to receive someone.

Journalists instinctively stirred like cats catching a scent, attempting to follow—only to be uniformly stopped by staff.

Such grand ceremony.

This was Beijing, after all—where nine out of ten people might claim aristocratic connections.

Even the media knew better than to point cameras recklessly.
–

TOAO was the only Asia-led fashion publication to break into the global top three.

With an inadvertent glance, Xie Qingman caught sight of the man who had several high-level executives on high alert, her fingers pausing mid-movement.

The man’s handsome features were accentuated by his neat, short hair, his sharp, cold contours blending into the ink-like darkness of the night.

His tall, upright frame was encased in a perfectly tailored suit—broad shoulders, narrow waist—and the cold gleam of the sapphire on his tie clip radiated the authority of one in power, exuding an aura of both nobility and severity.

Unmissable was the faint but distinct break at the end of his left eyebrow—wild, untamable.

He was like an exquisitely crafted yet deadly military knife.

Capable of delivering a fatal blow in a life-or-death duel, yet equally adept at captivating hearts in an unexpected encounter.

It was a figure all too familiar to her.

The area around the glass elevator had been swiftly cleared. Reporters, still scrambling for useful information, were held back.

How rare, Jiang Yan, the TOAO representative, curved her crimson lips into a bewitching, seductive smile, for a mere anniversary gala to warrant Young Master Ye’s early arrival.

Her words were polite, but the surprise was genuine.

In the capital, the wealthy and powerful were as numerous as fish in a river. Fame and fortune were commonplace, hardly worth mentioning, and seldom caught the attention of such individuals. For someone of his stature—a veritable patriarch—to appear at such an event was truly unusual.

Ye Yansheng offered no reply.

A sharp-eared acquaintance nearby picked up the thread with a chuckle, Spending so much time with that Fu family scion has taught you, Miss Jiang, all the fine arts of subtle mockery.

Go find somewhere else to be, Jiang Yan retorted with a laugh, though her tone held a hint of reproach, You’re always spinning tales about me. Don’t stir up trouble here.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.

Jiang Yan shot a meaningful look, and her entourage tactfully withdrew, leaving only the two of them inside.

At this afternoon’s meeting, Dongyue ‘yielded’ two million to me. I know it was your doing, Jiang Yan, never one for beating around the bush, cut straight to the point. If you have something to say, Young Master Ye, speak plainly.

There was more to it than that.

A project the Jiang family had their eyes on had also been approved just yesterday. While it was true that local influence often outweighed distant authority, and the Jiangs didn’t necessarily need the Ye family’s favor, the fact that the documents were processed so swiftly—completed in just a few days—went beyond mere compliance.

It was clear whose influence was at play.

Jiang Yan was no fool. The Jiang and Ye families were far from being close allies. For Ye Yansheng to extend so many favors, it couldn’t possibly be just to show support for her event tonight, could it?

The matter in Yuecheng is personal, Ye Yansheng replied coolly.

He left it at that.

In fact, Old Master Jiang had already broached the subject last night at the Jiang family estate. Jiang Yan lowered her brows with a faint smile, You needn’t worry. I have no interest in wading into muddy waters.

She then shifted the topic, But Young Master Ye has always disdained such occasions. For you to grace us with your presence today—and personally, no less—surely the motive isn’t merely the wine?

Such trivial matters were hardly worth Ye Yansheng’s condescension to arrive early.

She knew that all too well.

Pushed to this point, the brooding, difficult-to-please master finally deigned to speak:

It isn’t.

Ye Yansheng adjusted his cufflink, his thumb lightly stroking the gemstone with an air of nonchalance.

Jiang Yan hadn’t expected him to admit it so readily. She arched a slender brow, Might I satisfy my curiosity? Who warrants such grand gestures?

The glass elevator continued its ascent, floor by floor.

Without even lifting his eyelids, Ye Yansheng let his gaze drift downward, overlooking the venue—

There, at the center of the cocktail party, directly in his line of sight, Xie Qingman was arm-in-arm with the male lead of some drama, smiling radiantly for the media cameras.

They looked like a match made in heaven.

Ye Yansheng’s eyes darkened, his entire being suppressing a murderous aura. His pitch-black pupils resembled frozen pools where spring snow had yet to melt—growing increasingly still and frigid.

It was a blatant scrutiny, an overwhelmingly oppressive presence.

After a long while, he seemed to let out a faint smile.

Yet the smile was too cold, never reaching his eyes, chilling enough to make one tremble. A little liar with no heart or conscience.

Author’s Note:

———————-

Long time no see! After all these years, I’ve finally started this story!