“Hey, gorgeous, what’s wrong with having a drink with us?” The scar-faced ringleader tossed down a stack of bills. “You’ll make more than you would from ten photo shoots!” He reached to pinch the woman’s chin, only for his wrist to be seized without warning. An icy chill crept along his veins toward his heart.
“Let go.” Li Qingxuan’s voice was as cold as midwinter ice. The scar-faced man felt his wrist about to be crushed and instinctively released it, stumbling backward. Another thug swung a steel pipe at him, but Li Qingxuan merely tapped it with a fingertip. The pipe froze in midair, its rusty surface suddenly glowing gold. It was an early-stage magical artifact, tempered by spiritual energy.
“Y-you… are you human or a ghost?” The third thug dropped to his knees with a thud. The pungent smell of urine came from his pants. Seizing her chance, the woman picked up her fallen phone. The lock-screen photo showed her glamorous international-supermodel headshot: Su Xue. She had just returned to China when her agency arranged for her to entertain clients with drinks. After she refused, they cornered her in an alley.
“Thank you…” Su Xue tugged at her slipping shoulder strap, then noticed the takeout box in Li Qingxuan’s hand. “Were you… here to save me, or to deliver food?” She tried to keep a straight face, but the sauce at the corner of her mouth gave her away, making Li Qingxuan chuckle.
The two sat in a 24-hour convenience store while Su Xue licked her ice cream and listened to Li Qingxuan spin a tale about being the heir to a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners. Suddenly, she pointed to the school badge on his uniform. “My cousin goes to this university too. I heard there was a legend about a ‘penniless academic prodigy’ here back in the day. Don’t tell me that was you?”
