Between a Rock and a Hard Place

This place wasn't as easy to get into as the hotel had been. After circling around once, Song Weishi still hadn't found a way in.

She was so exhausted she had to duck behind a nearby piece of cover, pull out her cart, and sit down inside it.

If she couldn't get in here, the office building next door might still be viable. It had plenty of windows—maybe one of them was unlocked.

After resting for a bit, Song Weishi made her way toward a towering office building.

The snow had already piled up to the third or fourth floor here. The light-gray one-way glass wasn't particularly sturdy, and after prying at a few panes with her knife, she managed to pop one open.

A smile crept onto her face—there really was a fish that slipped through the net.

Song Weishi was dressed in bulky layers, and squeezing through was no easy feat. She ended up catching herself with her hands to avoid landing face-first on the floor, looking somewhat disheveled.

She brushed the dust off her palms and finally got the rest of her body through.

She stowed her heavy coat away to make moving easier later. Even without it, she was still dressed warmly enough that the cold wasn't unbearable.

The office building looked brand new. The moment she stepped inside, Song Weishi felt like she'd walked into an upscale shopping mall.

Sunlight spilled across the polished corridor. Gazing at the transparent glass walls and the various logos lining both sides, Song Weishi decided this was where she'd spend the night.

She planned to find a place to start a fire, but her first priority was to sweep the building and see if anyone else was still here.

Still, judging by how even the convenience stores had already shut their doors, it didn't seem likely anyone had stayed behind to work overtime.

No company could be that heartless, keeping employees here overnight, right? With weather this terrible outside, if they had to work late, they'd surely be doing it from home.

That was what Song Weishi thought as she headed down to the first floor. It was pitch black, and the lobby was empty—no one in sight.

But oddly enough, the drawers at the front desk appeared to have been rifled through. Frowning, Song Weishi walked over, her flashlight sweeping across the messily displaced cabinets.

There were even shards of glass on the ground nearby.

She looked up and spotted a vending machine that had been completely cleaned out. It looked like someone had smashed it open to take everything inside, leaving only a few empty packaging boxes.

Song Weishi's heart immediately clenched. So there were people in this building after all. Some company really had kept its employees working late without letting them go, and now they were trapped here.

She scanned her surroundings warily. The lower floors had so little left that they'd clearly been thoroughly searched—nothing worth grabbing here.

In theory, the first two floors should be relatively safe. The real danger lay in the upper floors she hadn't explored yet.

Song Weishi immediately decided to leave. Before dark set in, she needed to get out and find a new shelter.

Staying here would multiply the risk exponentially. She didn't want to freeze to death—only to get taken out by another person first.

Song Weishi bolted for the exit, but sometimes your luck is just that bad. She'd barely made it to the second floor when footsteps echoed from the corridor above.

The soundproofing here was excellent, and several people emerged from the second floor without warning. They were about to run straight into Song Weishi when she spun around to head back down—only for a pair of arms to seize her from behind, locking her in place and clamping a hand over her mouth.

"I really did hear something down here... Huh?—"

Song Weishi clenched her fists, trying to fight back, but she couldn't break free at all. The person behind her seemed much taller, holding her pinned tight against them so she couldn't move an inch.

"Don't move." A barely audible whisper came from behind her. Her struggles were futile, so she stopped trying.

She was dragged into a room, the air thick with the smell of blood that clung stubbornly to her nostrils. The person holding her was warm, and she could feel the taut, firm line of their arm muscles through their sleeve.

The force behind the grip was enough to make her feel like her bones could be crushed with ease.

Sensing danger, Song Weishi's eyes darted uncontrollably. Through the gap in the door, she watched several young men pass by, weapons in hand, talking in hushed, wary tones.

"Must be downstairs. Let's hurry."

Only after the group had moved well past did the hand behind her slowly release. Song Weishi immediately turned and put distance between herself and the other person.

She spun around and came face-to-face with a tall woman.

The woman didn't speak. Her gentle eyes were fixed on Song Weishi, calm and distant, as if veiled behind an invisible mist.

Her posture was upright and relaxed, hands simply tucked into her pockets, yet somehow impossible to look away from.

She was only wearing a black tracksuit—and in this freezing cold, it didn't even make her look bulky.

Song Weishi wiped the tears that had welled up from reflex, and only then noticed there was another person lying on the floor in the room.

He seemed to be unconscious, his hands bound behind his back in a twisted position, his body utterly still.

This was obviously a crime scene. Song Weishi sniffled, her mind racing. She couldn't beat this woman—that was clear. The other woman was clearly no pushover. Song Weishi abandoned any thought of reaching for her knife, and the two of them stood there in a standoff for a few tense seconds before the woman's lovely eyes narrowed slightly and she spoke first: "Are you with them?"

Song Weishi lowered her head, putting on a frightened look. Maybe her appearance was too deceptive, because the woman didn't strike out immediately.

After a long moment, she finally heard her reply: "No, I don't know them."

She didn't meet the other woman's eyes, silently calculating her options. Those people who'd just come down were probably looking for the one standing before her, and she'd accidentally stumbled into the middle of it.

Song Weishi felt like her head was about to split. How could she keep falling into the same trap? First at the Garden of a Hundred Herbs, then at the hotel, and now—just when she thought she'd found an empty place—things turned out even worse.

But the woman in front of her didn't seem intent on hurting her. Song Weishi looked up and found she'd already taken a seat, those beautiful eyes studying her carefully.

Then she casually dropped a line that nearly made Song Weishi choke: "I know."

Song Weishi silently rolled her eyes, thinking, *Then why ask? Is messing with me fun?*

But her face betrayed nothing. In the face of absolute power, she didn't even dare to entertain the thought of resistance.

Still, the woman showed no sign of harming her, so Song Weishi worked up the courage to ask, "I swear I won't tell them you're here. I won't say a word about what I just saw. I'll leave this building right now—can I go?"

*If you can't stand the bitterness, you'll never rise above the rest.* When faced with someone stronger, Song Weishi knew how to lower her head.

She looked at the woman with hopeful eyes, and the corner of the woman's mouth lifted into a smile. "Afraid not. If those people outside see you, they'll kill you."

Song Weishi's lips twitched. She glanced at the person on the floor—just who exactly was the dangerous one here?

"That's fine. I'll just slip away quietly. Sorry to bother you."

Her hand crept toward the door handle. When the woman made no move to stop her, she yanked the door open and made a break for it.

Her triumph lasted all of a few seconds. The moment she stepped out, the group she'd seen earlier was standing right there, a wall of flesh blocking her path, staring at her coldly.

Her expression froze, a smile still plastered on her face. The man at the front swung a club straight at her head.