"This really isn't a good time…" Ms. Fang hesitated over the phone, her voice tight with concern. "The college entrance exams are right around the corner, and I still need to compile more English review materials for my students. Besides, my mother is visiting from the provincial capital in two days. I need to go home and get things ready."
She paused, hoping her polite excuse would be enough. But she knew better.
Liu Chengyan. Even the name made her frown. The notorious son of Liu Yunqing, one of the most powerful officials in the city. His reputation preceded him—charming on the surface, but underneath… rotten to the core.
Just last month, Director Qiu had tried to set her up with him once. She'd dodged that bullet gracefully. But now, it was clear Qiu Guohua was determined not to let her slip away again.
"Ms. Fang," Qiu's voice on the other end turned unyielding, "this is for the good of the school. It's already decided. Tonight at Jinyang Hotel. It's just dinner, nothing more. We'll also have a chance to discuss your year-end performance review."
"Director Qiu—" she began, but the line had already gone dead.
Fang Qing hung up slowly, her eyes unfocused as her thumb brushed the receiver. She bit her lip and sighed. A dinner meeting at a five-star hotel with someone like Liu Chengyan? There was no mistaking what this was—a Hongmen Banquet, a trap in fine clothing.
Still, she nodded to herself after a moment. If she didn't go, who knew what Qiu might say to sabotage her record? She had worked too hard to let rumors ruin her reputation. Maybe if she just showed up and left early—
"What?! Fang Qing? That bastard Qiu Guohua dares to drag her into this mess?"
Outside the office door, Doug Feng stood frozen in place, fists clenched at his sides. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop—okay, maybe a little—but now that he knew, he couldn't un-hear what he'd just heard.
Jinyang Hotel. Tonight.
And suddenly, everything he'd overheard that morning in the office made terrible sense.
Qiu Guohua's so-called "private meetings"… the way he spoke about leveraging the school's resources… it was all a setup to throw Ms. Fang into the lion's den.
"No way. I can't let her fall into their hands. Liu Chengyan? That guy's a textbook sleazeball! No way she walks into that trap on my watch."
"Doug! What are you doing just standing there? Class is about to start!"
A cheerful voice snapped him back to reality. Linda popped up behind him, puffing out her cheeks in fake annoyance. Before he could react, she gave him a shove from behind, almost sending him sprawling face-first into the hallway tiles.
"Whoa—hey! You trying to kill me or what?" Doug spun around.
"Serves you right for standing there like a statue," she said with a grin, hands on her hips. "I was testing if you were made of wood!"
Her eyes sparkled mischievously, and for a split second, Doug forgot all about the looming danger.
"Well?" she teased. "Result's in—you're still alive! Come on, let's go!"
She clapped her hands and darted down the hallway toward their classroom, turning back with a mock-challenge in her stride: Catch me if you can!
Doug chuckled and chased after her. "What's the rush? The bell hasn't even rung yet! Or are you afraid you'll miss the chance to yell 'Stand up!' as class monitor?"
But even as he joked, his thoughts remained troubled. Ms. Fang needed help, and he couldn't sit through another class pretending everything was fine.
By the time the final math lesson began, Doug was practically vibrating with anxiety. Halfway through, he raised his hand.
"Bathroom," he said, not waiting for permission before slipping out.
He didn't go to the bathroom, of course. He sprinted straight for the senior English office.
"Please don't go, Ms. Fang… please, just wait—"
But when he burst into the office, panting, she was gone.
"Mr. Liu! Where's Ms. Fang?" he asked the only person inside—a lanky, bespectacled teacher with a tired-looking suit and an aura of gentle authority.
"Ms. Fang left earlier," Liu Qiren replied calmly. "She told me if any of her students needed help, I should assist them in her place. You're from Class 3-2, right? What's the matter?"
Doug blinked, then shook his head. "It's nothing. Thanks, Mr. Liu."
He turned and walked out quickly.
"Dammit… she really went home to get ready. And from there, she'll head straight to Jinyang Hotel…"
This wasn't just dinner. It was a trap, plain and simple.
"Ms. Fang, how could you be so naive?"
Doug didn't waste another second. He dashed across campus, avoiding the main gates. There, tucked away in the northeast corner, was an old crumbling section of the school's wall. Everyone knew it was the unofficial "emergency exit" for students skipping class to hit up gaming cafes.
He scaled it with practiced ease and dropped onto the other side.
"Jinyang Hotel… city center… three or four kilometers away… okay, I've got time."
He jogged down the sidewalk, already calculating his plan. He had to intercept her at the hotel entrance and stop her from going in.
But how was he going to convince her?
He didn't even know her home address. If he did, he'd have rushed there without hesitation. But now, all he could do was beat her to the hotel.
Suddenly, something shiny caught his eye.
A lottery shop.
"Oh crap—I almost forgot!"
He darted inside, heart racing from more than just the run. Today was the day.
Doug rummaged through his pockets. Thirty-five yuan. Not much, but just enough.
He already knew the six winning numbers. The only missing piece was the "special number" drawn from 1 to 16. Without it, he'd only win second prize—still worth tens of thousands, but nowhere near the jackpot.
But if he covered all sixteen possible special numbers…
"Six main numbers times sixteen special numbers… sixteen tickets… two yuan each… thirty-two yuan total. That'll guarantee one first prize and fifteen second prizes. Jackpot, here I come!"
He beamed. He had just enough for one more ticket, too—a wildcard for luck.
He bought seventeen bets in total, spread across four lottery slips. Gently, almost reverently, he placed them in a small plastic pouch and tucked it deep into his jeans pocket.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath, stepping back onto the street. "Tickets bought. Fate sealed. Now…"
He turned his eyes toward the setting sun, the direction of Jinyang Hotel gleaming in the distance.
"Time to save the damsel."