But there were still two men behind him.
She definitely couldn’t escape, couldn’t fight them all.
What could she do?
At that moment, a voice suddenly rang out from behind—
“Ma Shao.”
Through the wind rustling the trees, on the empty street scattered with fallen leaves, Zhou Wan heard a voice.
This time she didn’t need to turn around to recognize who it was.
Lu Xixiao.
The young man wasn’t carrying an umbrella, just wearing his hoodie with the hood up, loose and casual.
He also smelled of tobacco, but it was pleasant, mixed with a very faint woody scent, the tobacco retaining only its final traces of sharpness and spice.
Zhou Wan’s wrist was wrapped in a slightly cool touch as she was pulled behind him.
She saw Lu Xixiao’s profile.
Lean and sharp, his superior bone structure leaving him without a bad angle from any view, his expression calm and indifferent.
Zhou Wan never expected anyone would save her.
From childhood until now, no one had ever saved her—she had faced everything alone.
She especially never expected her savior would be Lu Xixiao.
The son of Guo Xiangling’s future husband.
“What are you doing?” Lu Xixiao asked flatly.
Upon seeing him, Ma Shao immediately released Zhou Wan, then smiled, speaking in a completely familiar tone: “What? Xiao, is she your girl?”
Such crude words made Zhou Wan frown.
Lu Xixiao didn’t speak, neither confirming nor denying.
“Alright then.” Ma Shao nodded to himself, “Should’ve said she was your girl earlier. I wouldn’t go after a brother’s woman.”
Then, Ma Shao bent down, leaning close to Zhou Wan, saying without any trace of apology: “Little sister, sorry about that.”
Zhou Wan turned her face away, and Lu Xixiao spoke again, his voice deep: “Ma Shao.”
Ma Shao smiled, tossing out a “let’s hang out sometime” before getting back on his motorcycle and leaving.
Zhou Wan’s eyelashes trembled as she kept her eyes lowered.
She looked at Lu Xixiao, controlling the tremor in her voice: “Thank you.”
Lu Xixiao glanced at her without saying anything, then simply walked forward.
She picked up her umbrella, but it was broken and unusable now.
A light rain was still falling steadily—it was like this every year in Pingchuan City during the transition from summer to autumn, with so much rain it felt like everything was being soaked through to mold, the entire city submerged in rain.
At least the rain wasn’t heavy.
Zhou Wan sighed, carrying the broken umbrella and following behind Lu Xixiao in the rain.
They walked one in front of the other, neither with an umbrella, him wearing his hood.
Zhou Wan looked at Lu Xixiao curiously. She wasn’t deliberately following him, but they were heading in the same direction.
Could it be that he was worried those thugs might come back to trouble her and wanted to escort her home?
In less than a second, Zhou Wan dismissed this thought.
She pulled her lips into a self-mocking smile—how could someone as dazzling as Lu Xixiao spend time on her?
Just as she was thinking this, Lu Xixiao stopped and turned back: “Where’s your umbrella?” he asked.
Zhou Wan looked up, meeting his eyes.
His eyes were narrow and long, the type that should have been passionate, yet they were like an unfathomable pool, swallowing all emotion, appearing unmoved and indifferent.
Zhou Wan: “Broken.”
Lu Xixiao lowered his gaze, glancing at the umbrella in her hand. “Oh.”
He continued walking until he stopped at a bus stop. “Wait here.”
Zhou Wan was startled: “What’s wrong?”
Lu Xixiao didn’t answer, probably too lazy to explain.
Zhou Wan watched him take out his phone, his fingers tapping the screen a few times. Shortly after, a taxi stopped in front of the bus stop.
Lu Xixiao’s long legs stepped back into the rain curtain as he got into the front passenger seat, then rolled down the window: “Still want to stand in the rain?”
Zhou Wan was startled, thanking him somewhat frantically as she opened the back door.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Lu Xixiao pulled out a cigarette while answering: “The arcade up ahead.”