The rain had turned into a heavy drizzle by dawn. A pale gray light crept across the horizon as Meilin leaned her head against the window of the moving car. The world blurred past — forests, old streets, a river swollen with last night's storm.
Rui drove in silence, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. Xiaoya slept soundly in the back seat, clutching her little wooden bird.
It had been hours since they fled the estate. Meilin's heart still raced with every sound, every flash of light. She couldn't believe how fast everything had fallen apart — again.
> "Where are we going?" she asked softly.
> "Somewhere safe," Rui replied. "An old villa in the northern hills. No one knows it exists. It was my mother's."
Meilin nodded slowly. "Will they follow us?"
> "They'll try," Rui said, glancing at her. "But they'll be looking in the wrong places for now."
For a long moment, silence filled the car — the kind that was heavy, full of words neither dared to say. Then Meilin whispered, "I never thanked you… for saving us."
Rui's grip on the wheel tightened. "You don't need to thank me."
> "But I do," she said quietly. "Because before… I would've left. I was selfish, blind, and cruel. I thought love was weakness."
Rui's eyes softened, though he didn't look at her. "You were hurting."
> "And I hurt everyone else," she whispered. "Especially you."
The car slowed as they reached a winding road lined with pine trees. Rui stopped at a small wooden gate. Beyond it, an old villa stood against the mist — weathered, silent, yet peaceful.
> "We'll rest here," he said.
Inside, the air smelled of old wood and dust. Xiaoya woke, blinking sleepily. "Are we home?"
Meilin smiled faintly. "For now, sweetheart."
They settled in. Rui checked the locks and powered up an old generator, while Meilin made a small fire in the hearth. For the first time in days, warmth filled the room.
When Xiaoya fell asleep again, Meilin turned to Rui. "Do you think they'll stop?"
> "No," Rui admitted. "Chen Hao wasn't working alone. His father—Chen Ming—was the real one behind the operation. And he's far more dangerous."
Meilin frowned. "You mean the same Chen Ming who funded my father's research?"
Rui nodded. "Yes. He wanted the formula for himself. When your father refused to sell it, the fire happened."
Her breath caught. "Then all of this—my death, my rebirth—it's all tied to him."
Rui met her eyes. "That's why we can't keep running. We need to finish what your father started — and destroy the formula before they do."
Meilin looked at Xiaoya, sleeping peacefully beside the fire. "And if something happens to us?"
Rui hesitated, then said softly, "Then at least she'll know her parents fought for her future."
Tears welled in Meilin's eyes. "You've always fought for me, Rui. Even when I didn't deserve it."
He reached for her hand. "You do now."
For a long moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the whisper of rain against the window.
Then, from outside, a faint crunch of gravel broke the stillness.
Meilin froze. "Did you hear that?"
Rui's hand went instinctively to the pistol tucked under his coat. He moved to the window, peering through the fog.
A black silhouette stood at the edge of the trees. Watching.
Rui's voice dropped to a whisper. "They've found us."