On the seventh floor, the hotel staff waited in the sightseeing lounge.
Song Yue’s gaze swept over the crowd before settling on the woman holding her son.
“Speak,” Song Yue said. “What do you want?”
The woman shivered, her voice barely a whisper. “You have a kayak. I saw it yesterday.”
“And?” Song Yue’s tone was icy.
The woman’s voice dropped even lower, as if cowed by Song Yue’s aura. “…The kayak is in your room. We want you to take us with you when you leave the hotel.”
So this woman had been spying on them yesterday after all, Song Yue thought, giving her a sidelong glance.
Unfortunately, Song Yue was no saint.
She had agreed to help Huang An and Sister Mei because she had known them long enough to trust them. But she owed the hotel staff—and this woman—nothing.
“Sorry,” she replied, her refusal absolute. “No.”
The woman hung her jaw open, stunned by the blunt rejection. “But you can’t just watch us die!”
When pleading failed, she switched to an emotional appeal.
The man who had just insulted Song Yue froze, his face cycling through shades of pale and flushed red.
The woman, clearly unaware that Song Yue was staying here, swallowed hard. “Dear, don’t hold it against him for—”
Song Yue had dealt with people like this before. Her expression remained impassive. “The kayak is mine. Who I choose to bring is my business. You have no right to interfere.”
“How can you be so cold-blooded?” a man in his thirties, wearing a staff uniform, stepped forward and pointed a finger at her. “We should never have let you stay here!”
Song Yue crossed her arms and smiled faintly. “Why shouldn’t I be allowed to stay? I booked Room 808 for seven days. I paid the full 6,400 yuan. What’s the matter? Are you the owner of this hotel? If you’re so keen on me leaving, go ahead and refund my money. I’ll walk out the door right now.”
“808?”
The staff members exchanged stunned glances.
That was the Lakeside Hotel’s most expensive presidential suite.
The young woman was dressed so simply, yet she had turned out to be a VIP guest.
And if she’s the one who paid for the room, we have no right to throw her out…
The hotel staff, who just moments ago had eagerly supported the woman’s demand for the kayak, suddenly lost all their confidence. They looked at one another in silence, none of them daring to speak.
Even the man who had just yelled at Song Yue stood rooted to the spot, his face cycling through shades of pale and flushed red.
The woman, clearly unaware that Song Yue was staying here, swallowed hard.
“Dear, don’t hold it against them for getting so worked up,” she said, her voice straining.
“Look at the water—it’s already reached the third floor. Who knows if it’ll keep rising? Everyone is terrified right now. I’m sure you understand. I know it’s a lot to ask you to give up your kayak, but this is a matter of life and death. You can’t just watch us drown.”
“If you know your request is selfish, don’t make it,” Song Yue said, raising an eyebrow. Her words instantly cut through the woman’s attempt at a moral high ground.
The woman bristled, her teeth grinding audibly as she struggled for a retort.
“However,” Song Yue said abruptly, catching the woman and the furious staff off guard.
“If you meet my conditions, I’ll take you with me.”
“What conditions?” the woman asked, her tone cautious.
Song Yue glanced at Huang An. He quickly stepped forward, producing two items from behind his back.
The woman’s eyes widened in shock.
Song Yue took the buoyancy pack, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. “You’re familiar with this, aren’t you? I heard you say yesterday that you made it yourself. I’ve tried using woven sacks before, but I always failed—the sewing technique required is quite specialized. Since you’re an expert, why not teach us how to make them? That way, even if the kayak capsizes, no one will drown in the flood.”
Her reasoning was sound. The staff members considered the request reasonable.
Unlike a motorized rescue boat, a kayak was far more prone to capsizing. The hotel didn’t provide life jackets, and they were all desperate for any means of survival.
A few of the staff members were already sold.
“I know where the hotel stores those woven sacks,” one whispered. “Sister, just tell me how many you need, and I’ll go grab them.”
“Don’t bother counting,” another chimed in. “Just get them all. You can’t have too many of these things!”
“Right you are. While we still have time, we’d better learn from her!”
The mood shifted instantly. The same people who had just been furious with Song Yue for refusing to take them for free were now eagerly focused on the woman, desperate to learn the life-saving skill.
But how could the woman possibly speak?
She had no idea how to make a buoyancy pack. She’d snatched it from the young couple on the roof. How could she possibly admit that now?
Yet, if she didn’t explain, they would all assume she was an expert, pinning their hopes for the kayak trip on her.
What do I do? What am I supposed to do?
Panic etched itself across her face, her eyes darting frantically.
The chef, who hadn’t uttered a word this entire time, watched her, his suspicions deepening.
He’d known something was off the moment he’d seen the woman arrive at the hotel, drenched and covered in blood. She might have looked fragile, but there was a ruthless glint in her eyes.
As a former butcher, he’d slaughtered hundreds, maybe thousands, of animals. He knew that kind of cold-bloodedness—the kind that only comes from taking a life—better than anyone.
The woman cleaning vegetables had personally inspected her back then, dismissing any concerns. “She’s all skin and bone,” the auntie had said. “No strength in her at all.”
Out of respect for the group’s sympathy for the stranger, the chef hadn’t argued and had let her in.
But now, as he watched her flounder in guilt, his brow furrowed.
Maybe she didn’t make that buoyancy pack herself, he thought. Maybe she stole it.
How she’d “acquired” the pack, combined with the blood on her clothes…
The answer was obvious.
So that’s what Song Yue was after.
The chef’s heart hammered. In an instant, he saw the true motives of both women.
The stranger had killed. She’d been hiding it all along.
She wanted Song Yue’s kayak and had tried to use the hotel staff as a shield to pressure her into giving it up.
But Song Yue had seen right through her. She’d not only refused but had cleverly turned the tables, forcing the woman to expose herself.
The chef, a man who’d seen his fair share of human nature, found himself respecting Song Yue. He was also immensely relieved he hadn’t spoken up when the woman tried to rally the staff against her.
He glanced at the vegetable-cleaning auntie. Her expression was complicated; she seemed to have finally understood the trap the woman had set.
In just a few minutes, the mood had shifted from tacit support for the stranger to utter avoidance.
Oblivious to the change, the woman continued to stammer her explanation. “I… I made that buoyancy pack in a hurry… I can’t quite remember how now…”
“Wait, there’s someone else at the hotel!” one of the staff members interrupted, cutting her off.
The woman breathed a sigh of relief, grateful the conversation had shifted.
But minutes later, as the staff led the newcomers onto the seventh floor, her blood turned to ice.
Them.
The young couple whose buoyancy pack she’d stolen.
And the two old men beside them. Her husband had taken their wardrobes, too.
It was over. Her murderous secrets were about to be exposed.
A chill washed over her, cold as a grave. She shot a glance at Song Yue and found the younger woman watching her with an amused, predatory smile.
She knew all along.
The woman’s pupils blown wide with realization. Song Yue had never intended to give up her kayak. She had planned this—to publicly unmask her and turn the entire crowd against her.
No. I can’t let this happen.
Anyone who threatened her son’s life, even the husband she slept beside or the parents-in-law she’d lived with for years, would be dealt with ruthlessly.
Blood surged to her head in an instant.
While the crowd was still focused on the four newcomers, a fierce shadow darted forward, charging straight at Song Yue.
***
Author’s Note:
Song Yue: I won’t attack unless attacked. But if you cross me, I will strike back. 🙂
Key takeaway: Anyone who threatened her son’s life, even the husband she slept beside or the parents-in-law she’d lived with for years, would be dealt with ruthlessly.