Сhaptеr 1: I’m Сhi Неn, Sistеr
Sheng Shuran, in my wоrld thеre arе no rules—stаrs shinе in dауlight, mоuntаins and sеаs оverturn—аnd yоu are thе еxсeрtiоn.
—Тong Si
Маy 18, 2025
[Shоrt Drаmа “Не’s Sо Wild” Nоw Streаming]
Night fell, аnd in thе dark room, onlу seduсtive gаsрs соuld be heаrd.
“Rip…”
Sheng Shurаn tоrе оpеn the hеm of her сhеоngsаm, strаddled thе man’s lap, аnd сlimbеd оntо his firm chest.
Thе mаn’s сleаn, refrеshing scent driftеd intо hеr nоstrils.
“Bite mе.” Shеng Shuran’s gazе was alrеаdу grоwing hazу.
Nоt a kiss, but a bite… An unbearablе restlеssnеss stirrеd within hеr, аnd gentlе friction was nо longеr enоugh.
Thе man obeyed, lightly biting her red lips.
“Not enough.”
Sheng Shuran avoided the man’s lips, lowered her head, and bit his Adam’s apple, applying slight pressure with her teeth. The man let out a low groan.
“I want it like this…”
As soon as Sheng Shuran finished speaking, the man gripped her waist and abruptly stood up, pressing her onto the bed. Their bodies pressed together, ready to ignite at any moment.
“Do you want it?” The man finally spoke, his voice cool…
And somewhat familiar?
Sheng Shuran struggled to open her eyes wider.
The night was too dark; she couldn’t make out the man’s silhouette at all.
“Yes.” Sheng Shuran didn’t care, arching her waist restlessly as the man took hold of it.
“Who am I?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sheng Shuran wrapped her arms around the man’s neck, pulling him closer, eagerly seeking his lips.
Dry wood met raging fire… earthly flames caught heavenly thunder… the sound of fabric tearing mixed with increasingly heavy gasps.
Two figures began to intertwine and entangle.
Just as Sheng Shuran was about to lose consciousness, the man lifted his head, gripped her chin, and stared at her with hazy yet sinister peach-blossom eyes:
“I’m Chi Hen, sis… ter…”
“Ah!!”
A scream escaped her lips as Sheng Shuran jolted awake.
The faint glow of the bedside aromatherapy lamp reminded her that it had all been just a dream.
She’d had the same dream again.
For a year now, she had been having the same dream over and over.
The same setting, the same events, the same… person.
Sheng Shuran frantically shook her head, trying to shake Chi Hen out of her desires.
He was her brother—how could she have such a dream?!
She took a moment to calm herself, intending to get up for a glass of water, when the phone suddenly rang in the dead of night, startling her.
“Are you Chi Hen’s family member?”
“Um, I’m not his family…”
“You’re Sheng Shuran, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s correct. You’re the only emergency contact listed for Chi Hen.
“…Please come to C City First People’s Hospital immediately. Chi Hen has been in a car accident.”
“A car accident?!” Sheng Shuran’s drowsiness vanished instantly.
“He’s quite seriously injured. Please come as soon as possible.”
But Sheng Shuran wasn’t in the country at the moment. She was in J Country, on tour with her orchestra.
She thought about calling the Fu family, but she picked up the phone only to set it down again.
Chi Hen hated the Fu family.
If the Fu family showed up, Chi Hen might cause another scene.
Without hesitation, Sheng Shuran booked the earliest flight back to the country.
Meanwhile…
Qian Song, sitting in the passenger seat, hung up the phone and looked at the person in the driver’s seat. “Hen, satisfied?”
The gloom on Chi Hen’s face hadn’t dissipated. His cold, fierce gaze fixed on the dark road ahead as the car’s blinding headlights gradually faded into the darkness.
The night was wild, seemingly endless.
“Get out if you don’t want to die.” Chi Hen spoke coldly.No sooner had he kicked Qian Song out of the car than he slammed the accelerator to the floor.
The low roar of the engine tore through the deep night, followed by a sharp crash that ripped the darkness apart. The blood-red Maserati slammed into a stone barrier, flipped in mid-air, and came to rest sideways across the road.
“Holy shit, that’s brutal!” Qian Song’s cigarette fell from his lips as he rushed over.
Chi Hen kicked open the mangled car door and crawled out from a pile of shattered glass. Blood streamed down his forehead, past his captivating peach-blossom eyes, over his straight nose and thin lips, then dripped steadily along the sharp line of his jaw.
He laughed—a twisted, savage laugh, his voice tinged with a morbid anticipation: “Now… take me to City C First People’s Hospital…
…She’s coming to see me.”