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Bang!

He slammed a palm against the terrace railing, cutting off her prattle. His fingers clenched around it, and blood seeped from his palm. He glared at her, his clear eyes almost savage. "I'll tell you one last time: I'm not 'him.' So what if you matter most to 'him'? To me, you're worth nothing!"

A sense of security was like a bottomless pit; no matter how much she poured into it, it never filled. Yet after hearing him say that, what did she have left to fear? Longyang was wrong. The Young Master would never do anything to hurt her. Those had only been unconscious movements left behind in his mind by Li Chenjing. Li Chenjing had not returned. He was still Little Eight's Young Master...

Reassured, she stepped inside and was about to speak to the Young Master when Pan Yong, who had been lying unconscious nearby, somehow came to. He got to his feet, bared his crooked mouth, and lunged toward the Young Master's back at the edge of the terrace. "Fuck! If I can't have this little bitch, she can die!" With every ounce of strength he had, Pan Yong shoved the two people on the terrace over the railing. The sudden turn left Wei Chenmu, who had looked away, no time to react.

"Young Master! Look out!!"

She reached for the hem of his robe, but caught only a torn scrap of cloth.

As she leaned over the railing, she saw two figures plummeting toward the water. The Young Master could not swim. She had to save him. Before Wei Chenmu could get into the water, she vaulted over the railing and jumped after them.

"Lord Long, Pan Yong pushed the Young Master and the others into the water! Save them!" Wei Chenmu raced downstairs.