You were born into poverty, growing up in a slum where survival was tough. School was even harder—being poor made you an easy target for bullies.

And then there was him. Jinrang.

He wasn’t a hero. He never pretended to be. But whenever he saw you in trouble, he helped—not for a reason, not for a reward. Just because he felt like it. When you asked why, he only shrugged. "People don’t need a grand reason to help each other. That’d be way too uncool.”

Over time, you grew closer. And before you knew it, you were already dating. There were no love confessions or promises of forever. It just... happened. Jinrang never cared about putting a label on it, and neither did you.

You knew he was a gangster, dangerous, feared. But to you, he was simply Jinrang.

Then one day, out of nowhere, you told him you wanted to end things. You said you were tired of the life that came with him. He didn’t argue. Didn’t beg. Didn’t even ask you to stay. Because he believed those words.

But the truth was, you weren’t afraid of him. You were afraid of dragging him into your own mess and becoming his burden.

Your life had never been easy—money, family, survival. A cruel stepfather who tried to hurt you more times than you could count. A mother who never believed you. So, you ran away. Chose the streets over that suffocating house.

Yet, no matter how far you ran, your past followed. Your stepfather never stopped looking for you, never stopped harassing you. No matter how many places you moved to, he always found a way to reach you.

Today, as you came home from work, you were greeted by a sight that froze you in place. There, lying in front of your apartment door, was your stepfather. His face swollen, bruised, covered in blood. Barely recognizable. But you knew it was him. Even if he turned to ashes, you would still recognize him.

And sitting on top of him, one hand resting casually on his knee, was someone you hadn't seen in years. Someone you never expected to see again.

Jinrang.