Chapter 1

The night before our engagement, Xia Wenzhou shoved a bloodstained high heel into my hand and told me to take the blame for his first love Su Mian's drunk-driving crash.

The car was registered to me, he said. My family had money and lawyers. Even a few years in prison would be more comfortable for me.

I looked at the size-thirty-six shoe, then at my own size-seven flats.

Apparently, being born rich was no protection against being an idiot.

The bloody shoe, the luxury car, and the first love sobbing herself breathless looked like a crime-scene reenactment on a shoestring budget.

He kept urging me. Her pleading sounded as though she might stop breathing any second.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at him.

“You! If you love her so much, take the blame yourself. Don't want to?”

Then I pointed at her.

“And you! Stop wailing at me like someone died. Do you two seriously think everyone else is an idiot?”

At 1:17 a.m., Xia Wenzhou called me nine times in a row.

He wasn't usually that persistent even in meetings.

The last time Dad invited him to dinner, he'd sent an apology through his assistant. An international video conference, he said. He couldn't make it.

Later, I learned Su Mian had a fever that day. He'd waited outside her building until dawn, clutching a bag of fever medicine like a promotional mascot thrown in by the pharmacy.

I was wearing a sheet mask when I answered, my voice a little muffled.

“Whatever it is, say it.”

He paused, then lowered his voice.

“Zhaozhao, come to the underground garage at Qinglan Residence. Alone. Don't bring your driver.”

Qinglan Residence was a property I'd bought before marriage. My silver-gray SUV occupied its parking space.

Xia Wenzhou complained it was too big, used too much gas, and that I parked too properly.

He'd always preferred Su Mian's red sports car. Though he'd bought it for her.

A midnight summons to a garage, with special instructions to come alone, sounded like a scam. All that was missing was a demand to transfer money first.

I peeled off the mask, put on a coat, and packed my phone, power bank, and recording earring.

Our housekeeper peered out of the kitchen.

“Miss, going out so late?”

“Someone wants to give me a lesson in the law.” I put on my shoes. “I'll see what performance he has planned.”

The garage elevator opened onto the smell of blood.

My SUV stood crooked beside a pillar. Its front-right headlight lay shattered on the ground. Fresh scrapes marked the bumper.

Xia Wenzhou stood beside it, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, as pale as though he'd just seen his company's accounts.

Su Mian huddled behind him in his suit jacket, clutching a bloody high heel.

At the sight of me, her tears immediately fell.

“Miss Ning, I really didn't know it would turn out like this.”

I didn't answer. First, I looked at the shoe on the ground.

Size thirty-six. Stiletto heel. A small shard of reflective plastic was embedded in it.

Today, I wore size-seven flats. Glitter from the pedicure our housekeeper had given me still clung to the tops of my feet.

If Xia Wenzhou wanted me to take the fall, he could at least have checked my shoe size.

“What are you staging?” I asked. “Cinderella: Parking Garage Edition?”

He frowned.

“Zhaozhao, this isn't the time for jokes.”

“Then stop pointing shoes at me. I thought you'd summoned me at midnight for a fitting.”

Su Mian choked out, “A stray dog ran out. I panicked, and the car hit someone by the roadside. Wenzhou said they've been taken to hospital, but I... I can't have a criminal record.”

I looked at him.

“She was driving?”

His throat moved.

Whenever he was nervous, he touched his cuff links.

Today, there was blood on one. His fingers stopped halfway, as though he'd suddenly remembered not to leave fresh traces.

“The car's in your name,” he said. “The road camera only caught the plate. Go report it. Say you panicked and left the scene. The injured person is alive. I'll handle compensation.”

I stood there, waiting to hear what else he could make of it.

Perhaps he mistook my silence for hesitation. His voice softened.

“The Nings have the best lawyers. You won't be in there long. Once it blows over, we'll have our wedding as planned.”

I switched on the recording earring and asked very seriously, “Xia Wenzhou, do you think my family owns the prison?”

He stiffened.

“That's not what I meant.”

“So you mean I should confess to Su Mian's drunk-driving hit-and-run while you arrange the wedding outside? Should we leave her a place in the wedding photos too?”

Su Mian clutched her chest and coughed twice. The first was light, the second heavier, with a carefully placed, heartbreaking pause between.

“Miss Ning, I have a heart condition. I couldn't bear a detention center. Your family's well off, and Wenzhou will look after you. Help me just once, please?”

I nodded.

“If you can't bear it, go to a hospital. What does your poor health have to do with me?”

Her tears caught at the corners of her eyes. Clearly, she hadn't expected me to send her script straight to the registration desk.

I turned to Xia Wenzhou.

“If you're so worried, take the blame yourself. Don't want to?”

His gaze flickered.

I laughed.

“So you were in the car too.”

He quickly regained his composure.

Raised from childhood as the Xia heir, he excelled at hiding panic beneath his tie, then selecting a plausible explanation.

“When I reached the scene, Su Mian was terrified,” he said. “I just wanted to control the situation.”

“Control whom?” I pointed at my car. “Control me into going to prison for you?”

Su Mian tugged his jacket, crying harder.

“Wenzhou, don't fight with her. Miss Ning never liked me. She must think I deserve it.”

“I don't find you that interesting,” I said. “Just don't treat my car and my life as disposable resources. We can each get on with our own.”

She bit her lip, shoulders trembling.

He immediately shifted to shield her.

So practiced. He must have done it many times.

I remembered six months earlier, when he'd also stood Dad up at his birthday dinner, then sheltered Su Mian from the rain like that.

The rain had lasted all of ten minutes. Her car was right downstairs, but she insisted she felt dizzy. He'd stood outside getting drenched with her, turning them into a romance-drama poster.

Back then, I'd made excuses. He was only softhearted.

Now I saw his softheartedness was highly selective. It always selected someone else to bear the consequences.

“Zhaozhao.” His voice softened. “I know this is unfair to you. But Su Mian isn't like us. She has nowhere to turn.”

“So my path has to become her red carpet?”

His face darkened.

“Don't be so unpleasant.”

“I haven't started. You two drank, drove my car into someone, canceled the emergency call, fled the scene, then woke me up to demand I confess. What soundtrack would you like for that procedure? A stirring anthem to brotherhood?”

Su Mian suddenly looked up.

“Who's been drinking and driving? I only had half a glass of champagne.”

“Half a glass is still alcohol, Su Mian. You shouldn't have got behind the wheel.”

“My mind was perfectly clear. I just couldn't see the turning!”

“Clear enough to knock someone into a planter?”

She went white. Xia Wenzhou took her hand and murmured, “Don't be afraid.”

I raised my phone.

“Keep going. I'm recording. Don't waste this teamwork.”

At last, he lost his temper.

“Ning Zhao, must you make this irreparable?”

I leaned against the car door and pressed my key.

The SUV beeped briefly. Warning lights on its roof flashed twice.

“Sending an innocent person to prison is going too far. Refusing to be that innocent person is normal,” I said. “If you can't tell the difference, revisit your elementary-school Morality and Law textbook.”

He stared at me for several seconds. Irritation slowly cooled into indifference.

“If you won't help, I'll turn myself in.”

“Wenzhou!” Su Mian tightened her grip.

“I gave her the keys.” He looked ready to brave fire and boiling oil for love. “I'm responsible.”

I almost applauded this relay race of responsibility.

“You'll turn yourself in as the driver?”

He didn't answer.

The familiar silent mode had returned.

Whenever Xia Wenzhou made a decision he couldn't defend, he used silence to disguise his choice as necessity.

As though saying nothing would make the world automatically apply a beauty filter.

I called Dad and put him on speaker.

“Dad, I'm calling off the engagement.”

Xia Wenzhou's expression changed.

“Ning Zhao, don't be impulsive.”

“I'm perfectly clearheaded. You're the impulsive ones. You hit someone, then convened a meeting to decide who goes to prison.”

Dad's voice lowered.

“Where are you?”

I gave the address and added, “Bring Lawyer Zhou. Several people here urgently need a legal education.”