Unable to love, two-way loyalty

Vancouver, April, overcast and rainy. “4023, someone is here to bail you out,” the white police officer with leather gloves impatiently announced, striking the iron bars with an electric baton. Xueqi lifted her head from the corner, steadying herself against the wall. Her pale face lacked all color, and only her dark, jade-like eyes remained striking amidst her emaciated form. In the cramped cell, less than ten square meters, female prisoners of various ethnicities mingled. Here, names were irrelevant; only codes mattered. The bail process was swift. She picked up her small backpack, wrapped tightly in her only warm old cotton coat, and walked out of the police station. The streets, cloaked in a gray fog from the night’s rain, felt perpetually damp, as if the very hearts of the people here could grow green moss. The taste of freedom. Xueqi closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the chill of raindrops on her face. A black Bentley rounded the corner, splashing puddles onto the pavement. The car door opened, and a man emerged, holding an umbrella. He called out in a courteous yet detached tone, “Miss Xueqi, aren’t you going to say thank you before you leave?” Xueqi opened her eyes and saw the pale, refined man, the Bentley, and the foreign license plates. His Mandarin had a peculiar accent, indicating he was an affluent overseas Chinese. “Thank you,” she replied hoarsely and turned to leave. “Inducing seduction, fraud, intentional injury, smuggling—any one of these could have you sentenced. The person you injured is the president of the local Chinese Chamber of Commerce. With his influence, you’ve likely endured quite a bit of hardship.” The man spoke with clarity, watching Xueqi’s retreating figure. “You need my help, Miss Xueqi.” Xueqi paused, her pale face dampened by the rain. She stood in the downpour for a minute before turning around. “In the past five years, I’ve used many names, but I haven’t used Xueqi.” Xueqi was her real name, one she had not used since her expulsion from Nanyang. “I am a lawyer, Wei Ming.” Wei Ming stepped forward, his black umbrella shielding them from the persistent drizzle. “I have arranged for your extradition. As a smuggler, Canadian authorities will likely prefer to deport you.” “Do you have a cigarette?” She lowered her gaze, her voice hoarse and her pale, pointed chin bearing a hint of frail beauty. Wei Ming was momentarily taken aback, observing the young woman with disheveled hair and bruises, living on the edge of legality. Instead of revulsion, he felt an odd, untamed beauty. “Sorry, I don’t smoke.” Wei Ming cleared his throat. “What are the terms?” Without a cigarette, Xueqi appeared more disheveled, her voice growing even raspier. “Return to the Wu Mansion.” Wei Ming enunciated each word deliberately, his eyes flashing with sharp intensity. The Wu family, a symbol of Nanyang’s elite, wielded immense economic power. Their decisions not only shaped the region’s dynamics but also reverberated throughout the Eastern world. Had he not made this trip, he would never have imagined that the daughter of such a vast commercial empire would nearly perish in a small, damp Canadian cell. “And if I refuse?” Xueqi asked coldly, gazing at the distant snow-capped mountains through the chilly rain. Five years ago, she had been expelled from the Wu Mansion, receiving an ultimate eviction order from that merciless man, never to return to Nanyang. “My employer asked me to inform you that the young master of the Wu family has been diagnosed with leukemia. If a matching marrow is not found, he won’t survive more than three months.” Wei Ming opened and handed over a file he had been holding. Xueqi glanced at Wu Zheng’s diagnosis and tightened her grip on the document. When she left Nanyang, Wu Zheng was only four, fond of wearing Mickey Mouse clothes. He would clutch Mickey’s tail with one hand and her skirt with the other, excitedly calling, “Sister, sister, look at my little tail.” Wu Zheng was her only younger brother. Regardless of who set this trap, she had no choice but to step into it.