The night split open with thunder.
Rain fell in sheets, washing the earth clean — or maybe trying to drown it. The countryside road stretched endlessly ahead, slick and dark under the headlights of a single black car.
Inside, Wang Zheng drove in silence. His eyes were steady, the rhythm of the windshield wipers matching the calm pulse of his breathing. But inside, his mind wasn't calm at all.
He had left the capital three days ago for business — a quiet retreat, they called it — though nothing about his life was ever quiet.
Being the heir of the Wang family meant his every step was a performance, every breath watched. Everyone expected perfection from him — control, composure, power.
And yet, tonight, something inside him felt… restless.
He couldn't explain it. Just a strange pull in his chest as he neared the narrow bridge that marked the edge of the town.
Then he saw it.
A white blur — something falling from the bridge, swallowed by the black water below.
At first, he thought it was debris. Then his headlights caught the flutter of fabric.
A dress.
Without thinking, he slammed the brakes so hard the car skidded sideways. His pulse roared in his ears as he ran toward the riverbank.
The rain hit like needles. The river churned and screamed, wild from the storm.
He saw her then — a pale figure sinking fast, her long hair twisting like black silk in the current.
"Damn it."
He ripped off his coat and jumped.
The water was freezing, closing around him like iron. His muscles protested as he fought the current, pushing forward through the darkness.
He reached her, arm sweeping around her waist. Her body was limp. No movement. No sound.
"Hold on," he gritted, his voice raw against the thunder. "You're not dying here."
With every stroke, he dragged her closer to the shore, the weight of her body pulling him down. But Wang Zheng had never been the kind of man to give up.
When his feet finally hit solid ground, he half-carried, half-dragged her onto the muddy bank and laid her down, rain pounding around them.
Her skin was pale, lips blue, eyes closed. For a moment, she looked less like a woman and more like a memory — fragile, fading.
He cursed under his breath and pressed his palms to her chest.
"Breathe."
He started CPR, counting under his breath. One… two… three…
Still nothing.
He leaned down, giving her air, then tried again. His hands trembled slightly, the sound of his own heartbeat deafening.
Then — a cough.
A weak, broken sound, but enough to make him freeze.
She gasped again, water spilling from her mouth. She choked, trembling violently as she tried to breathe. He quickly lifted her upright, rubbing her back gently.
"Easy. You're safe now."
Her eyes opened, unfocused and glassy. Rain trickled down her cheeks, mingling with tears she didn't even know she had shed.
"Who…" she whispered, her voice raw. "Who are you?"
Wang Zheng hesitated. Her voice — it wasn't that of a spoiled heiress or pampered daughter. It carried something else… pain.
"Don't speak," he said softly. "You need warmth. You're freezing."
He wrapped his coat around her shoulders, the scent of smoke and rain clinging to it.
As he lifted her into his arms, she clung weakly to his shirt. "Why did you… save me?"
His expression barely changed, but something flickered in his eyes — something she couldn't read.
"Because no one deserves to die alone."
---
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and midnight.
Nurses rushed, the sound of wheels and quiet voices filling the halls. Wang Zheng stood outside the emergency room, water dripping from his hair and clothes, his hands cold and trembling — though he didn't know if it was from the river or the shock.
He had faced boardroom wars, corporate betrayal, and backroom politics, but tonight, saving a stranger had shaken him more than any of those battles.
When the doctor came out, Wang Zheng straightened immediately.
"She'll live," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses. "You got her here just in time. Another five minutes, and…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Wang Zheng's jaw relaxed slightly. "Can I see her?"
"Once she's stable."
Hours passed before he was allowed in. She lay on the bed, wrapped in white sheets, an IV line in her arm. Her hair was damp against her skin, her breathing even.
She looked peaceful. Almost too peaceful for someone who had just tried to die.
He picked up the small bundle of her belongings — a soaked phone, a ruined purse, and a jade pendant with a faint engraving.
He turned it over slowly.
A phoenix carved into the jade's back.
A symbol once associated with the Chen family — one of the old capital clans that had disappeared years ago after a tragic scandal.
His brows furrowed. "Who are you?"
The nurse appeared beside him. "Sir, she had no ID on her. Do you know her?"
He looked at the pendant again.
"Xu Ling," he said after a moment.
He wasn't sure why the name came to him — perhaps he had overheard it in one of the news scandals flashing through the capital earlier. But somehow, it felt right.
---
Morning came quietly.
Xu Ling stirred, blinking against the soft light. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. The sterile white ceiling, the faint beep of machines, the warmth of the blanket — it felt unreal.
Then the memories came crashing back — the bridge, the water, the endless darkness swallowing her whole.
Her breath hitched.
"You're awake."
The voice was deep, calm — a little rough, as if he wasn't used to speaking gently.
She turned her head. The man beside the bed was tall, broad-shouldered, his dark shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His eyes were unreadable, but his presence filled the room effortlessly.
"Who…" she whispered.
He stepped closer. "I'm the one who found you. Don't worry. You're safe here."
Her lips parted, her throat dry. "Why did you help me?"
For a moment, his eyes softened.
"Because someone should have."
She blinked. His words shouldn't have meant much — but somehow, they did.
Before she could speak again, he turned toward the window, the golden morning light outlining his silhouette.
"You should rest. The world doesn't end because people disappoint you."
Xu Ling watched him silently.
There was something about him — not the sharpness of a businessman, but the stillness of someone who had seen too much and survived it all.
"Who are you?" she asked softly.
He didn't turn around.
"Wang Zheng."
---
Outside, far away in the capital, Li Wei stared at the glowing screen in his penthouse office.
The news article displayed a single line that made his chest tighten:
> Scandal-Tainted Heiress Xu Ling Missing After Attempted Suicide
His fingers clenched around his pen, jaw tightening.
He thought he had buried that part of his past — the one tied to her.
But the universe had other plans.
He didn't know that at that very moment, the woman he had destroyed was lying in another man's care — a man who would soon become his greatest rival.
And perhaps… her salvation.