You’re crazy!

“What’s with you?”

As the audience dispersed, following signs to the exit, Chu Cheng held her phone, glancing across the aisle.

Spotting Xu Fengluan, she hurried over in a few strides, eyes widening at her disheveled state, blurting out in shock.

No wonder—Xu Fengluan looked striking. Her cap was gone, leaving wet, white bangs plastered to her forehead. Her eyes were dark, lips slightly swollen, and her tee’s collar crumpled, exuding a weary, defeated air.

“A-Feng?” Chu Cheng was startled, waving a hand in front of her, worried something was wrong.

“Where’d you go? I called you a dozen times, and you didn’t pick up once.”

If not for the theater’s tight security—entry by ticket only—she’d have thought Xu Fengluan was kidnapped.

“You okay?”

The waving hand irritated Xu Fengluan, who swatted it away, saying, “I’m fine.”

She emphasized, “Ran into some trouble. We’ll talk later.”

Chu Cheng, though puzzled, saw the crowd and curious glances, knowing now wasn’t the time to press. “Let’s go,” she said.

Worried about traffic, they’d ridden a motorcycle, planning to park anywhere outside. But a security guard, noting the bike’s high value, suggested the underground garage to avoid issues, making their exit a hassle.

Chu Cheng took off her cap, plopping it on Xu Fengluan’s head, asking, “Where’s your mask?”

“Lost it,” Xu Fengluan mumbled. In her panicked escape, she’d shoved it into Liu Tingsong’s hands.

Chu Cheng fumed but held back, only saying, “Keep your head down.”

Xu Fengluan nodded, taking the lead.

One tall, one short, barely concealed, they drew attention. Some recognized them, snapping sneaky photos.

They ignored it, striding forward.

The usually empty parking garage buzzed with cars and chatter, thick with exhaust fumes.

Xu Fengluan stayed silent, her emotions a mess, unable to untangle her thoughts, only growing more agitated and blank.

Then, a flash went off.

Chu Cheng brushed it off, assuming it was another onlooker forgetting to disable their flash—a common occurrence.

Xu Fengluan felt the same; it didn’t matter anymore.

But as they went deeper, something felt off. The flashes persisted, trailing them.

Their motorcycle was parked in a remote spot, so fans shouldn’t follow this far.

Xu Fengluan glanced sideways, spotting a figure in a cap and mask, hood up, gender unclear, holding a DSLR camera.

She froze.

The paparazzo was brazen, perhaps because they seemed unbothered, not lowering the camera, even snapping more shots in their faces.

“A paparazzo here? Who’re they following?” Chu Cheng whispered, puzzled.

The gear looked professional, prepared, but their tickets weren’t registered—how could anyone know they’d be here? Who were they after?

*Liu Tingsong.*

The name flashed in Xu Fengluan’s mind.

Chu Cheng added, “I think I saw her walk over with you, but she didn’t have a camera, right?”

Her focus had been on Xu Fengluan’s state, too distracted to notice others, only now sensing something amiss but unsure.

“Probably didn’t get anything. Let him be,” Chu Cheng shrugged, unbothered.

Going to a musical wasn’t news—posted online, it’d earn praise for their dedication.

But her words hit Xu Fengluan like thunder.

If they’d caught her with Liu Tingsong…

Cold sweat soaked her shirt instantly.

Another flash, accompanied by a taunting *click*.

Xu Fengluan grabbed the keys, tossing them to Chu Cheng, barking, “Get the bike!”

Before Chu Cheng could react, Xu Fengluan charged at the paparazzo.

The paparazzo froze, not expecting this, but instinct kicked in, and he bolted.

They were only ten meters apart. Xu Fengluan closed the gap quickly, just two body lengths away.

But it wasn’t easy. The paparazzo, seasoned in this game, dodged as she reached out, slipping behind another car.

Fuming, Xu Fengluan chased, her steps pounding, wind whistling past.

The paparazzo weaved chaotically through cars, never running straight. If not for Xu Fengluan’s relentless pursuit, he’d have vanished.

He darted behind a Jeep, then a Tank 300, glancing at a window, thinking he’d lost her. But Xu Fengluan was still there.

He cursed inwardly, bitter.

*Everyone else got shots—why single me out?!*

No time to ask, his chest burned from running, gasping for air.

Spotting another large car, he veered behind it, losing Xu Fengluan’s shadow in his peripheral vision.

Thinking he’d escaped, he muttered something, aiming left. But Xu Fengluan surged from the car’s front, grabbing for his camera.

She’d anticipated his move!

Paparazzi had subconscious habits—like circling behind tall vehicles for cover, then dodging left or right. Xu Fengluan, after chasing for over ten minutes, spotted the pattern and cut to the front.

He might be seasoned at dodging, but she was a veteran at handling paparazzi.

Her fingers grazed his sleeve. His pupils dilated, shrinking back, turning to run again. The camera swung, slamming into his ribs, pain flaring.

In the window’s reflection, Xu Fengluan showed no signs of slowing, driven by sheer will.

He steeled himself, eyes resolute, veering left into the moving traffic lane.

Xu Fengluan, already exhausted from her earlier sprint in the theater, had rested briefly but was still drained. Her face paled, steps heavy, but the thought of what might be on that camera…

She gritted her teeth, pushing forward.

Headlights flashed, illuminating the scene.

A black sedan turned from a parking spot, heading for the exit.

Xu Fengluan perked up, thinking the car would force him to stop. She sped up.

But, defying her expectations, the paparazzo didn’t slow, charging at the car’s hood.

*Is he insane?!*

A sharp *screech*—the driver slammed the brakes, stopping just in time.

“You trying to die?!” the driver yelled out the window.

The paparazzo didn’t pause, brushing past the hood.

Xu Fengluan wanted to curse too but didn’t dare breathe, chasing after him.

The driver, about to move, braked again, honking furiously.

The piercing *beep-beep-beep* echoed in the empty space.

All that remained were two shrinking figures.

The chase drew onlookers, heads poking from car windows.

A little girl in her mother’s arms thought it was a game, clapping and chirping, “Mommy, that white-haired sister runs so fast!”

Xu Fengluan didn’t hear, eyes locked on her target.

The paparazzo dodged another car, heading for the exit.

A security guard in a booth, sensing trouble, shouted, “You two, stop! Watch for cars!”

The barrier lowered, but the paparazzo ignored it, ducking under and sprinting.

Xu Fengluan followed.

Outside, bright lights hit, dazzling her eyes, tears welling up.

She couldn’t care less. If he escaped, who knew where he’d go?

No time to waste. Anxiety flashed in her eyes.

Ignoring her aching legs, she summoned her strength to speed up.

Unexpectedly, the paparazzo turned, running toward a silver minivan. Xu Fengluan thought he was repeating his trick, but he yanked the door open and climbed in.

He had an accomplice!

He hadn’t appeared earlier, likely because traffic would trap the car at the exit. So he’d stalled in the garage, buying time until his partner drove up, letting him catch the van. How did he know the car was ready?

As if answering, the accomplice lowered the window, smirking at Xu Fengluan. Despite panting, he looked smug, waving a Bluetooth earpiece tauntingly, mouthing “bye-bye.”

A seasoned paparazzo indeed.

Xu Fengluan’s steps grew heavier, her stomach churning, a metallic taste rising in her throat. Breathing heavily didn’t help; her vision blurred with stars.

Give up?

What had he captured?

If it was her and Liu Tingsong, even just them walking together, it’d spark a storm.

Liu Tingsong…

Her face paled further.

“A-Feng!”

A shout rang out. The garage exit amplified a roaring engine.

A white motorcycle sped forward, its high beams flashing, lighting up Xu Fengluan’s green eyes like gems.

Her taut nerves relaxed, her legs buckling, nearly falling. Her right leg steadied her, and she stumbled back toward the bike.

A white BMW S1000RR roared up. Before it stopped, Chu Cheng tossed her helmet. Xu Fengluan caught it instinctively, swapping her cap for it. No time to explain—she grabbed Chu Cheng’s outstretched hand, swinging her long leg over, settling behind her.

*Vroom!*

Chu Cheng twisted the throttle, the bike roaring, shooting forward like an arrow, weaving through cars, chasing the minivan.

The paparazzo hadn’t even pulled his head back. Seeing them close in, his face paled, shouting, “Go, go! They’re catching up!”

He clutched his camera, a flicker of regret rising.

He should’ve stopped at enough shots. Greedy for photos of Xu Fengluan and Chu Cheng for their CP fans, he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

He urged again, “Hurry, they’re gaining!”

His accomplice, hot-tempered, snapped, “You think I don’t want to? I said get a better car, but you wouldn’t!”

The dashboard needle climbed. The clunky minivan moved nimbly, overtaking cars.

But traffic limited them.

Post-performance, the road was packed.

Xu Fengluan and Chu Cheng had it easier.

Bright streetlights illuminated towering trees, their shadows flickering over them, vanishing quickly.

Xu Fengluan gripped Chu Cheng’s shirt, steadying herself, eyes on the minivan, finally breathing easier.

Chu Cheng’s riding skills were top-notch. In Burning Meteor, except for Ji Lunan, tied down by his wife, the other three rode bikes, often racing in the hills. Xu Fengluan had no worries.

The minivan’s duo, seeing them close in, panicked and raged.

The driver cursed, “I told you not to chase cheap shots! I said leave, but you kept snapping. And this car—arguing with the dealer to save two grand!”

The paparazzo, looking back, yelled, “You agreed when I paid! Why blame me now?”

“You don’t blame your slow driving? You call that skill? I nearly died running in there, finally shaking that lunatic, and you drop the ball!”

“What’s skill worth in this traffic?!”

“It’s always traffic with you! Can’t you think of something?!”

Curses spilled from the metal shell, the driver slamming the wheel.

“They’re catching up!” The paparazzo glanced back, frantic.

The driver checked the rearview, gritted his teeth, and swerved across the yellow line into another lane, ignoring a moving car, heading for a side road.

The car behind braked hard, the motorcycle overtaking, tailing the minivan.

The driver’s eyes reddened, focused only on losing them, flooring the gas. The secondhand van rattled, reeking of burning.

The paparazzo jolted, clutching his camera, not daring to brace himself.

The road led to the suburbs, emptier but dimly lit, tree shadows deepening, hiding what lay beyond.

Despite summer, their thin tees offered no warmth against the blasting wind, chilling the air.

Goosebumps rose on Xu Fengluan’s arms, but she didn’t dare slow Chu Cheng. Her red hair whipped, stinging her neck, leaving red marks, sharpening her focus.

The engine’s roar startled birds from treetops.

The paparazzo looked back, shouting, “Damn it! They’re gaining!”

The white bike closed in, nearly at the van’s rear. Xu Fengluan reached for the window.

Panicked, the paparazzo swung his camera back, lunging for the door, cranking the handle to close it.

Xu Fengluan countered, grabbing the handle to keep it open.

He scrambled to block her.

She yanked the camera strap around his neck—her real target, the earlier moves a feint.

The vehicles were inches apart; a slight swerve could crash them.

The van, a four-wheeled metal box, had the edge, but the motorcycle was flesh on steel. A collision would fling Xu Fengluan and Chu Cheng, likely costing them their legs. Chu Cheng, under pressure, sweated despite the cold wind.

She didn’t know why Xu Fengluan was so desperate but trusted her, pushing forward.

The black strap was yanked tight.

The paparazzo leaned back, prying at her hand, shouting, “Hurry! They’re on us!”

“What can I do? The pedal’s floored!” The driver, furious, glanced at the rearview, veins bulging.

“You want me to run them over?!” he roared, knowing he couldn’t. They were nobodies against a famous band member. An accident would unleash fan backlash and crippling compensation, ending their careers.

The strap stretched near breaking.

The paparazzo, holding his breath, yanked back. But Xu Fengluan let go, grabbing the door instead. In his shocked eyes, she yanked it open, the door swinging wildly, clattering, the van shaking, sounding like it might collapse.

Chu Cheng pulled back slightly, wary of the door.

But Xu Fengluan shouted, “Faster!”

Chu Cheng’s face hardened, hesitating briefly but trusting her.

The dashboard numbers climbed.

The paparazzo, reacting, grabbed the passenger seat, reaching to close the door.

Xu Fengluan didn’t hesitate. Bracing Chu Cheng’s shoulder, she stood.

Chu Cheng yelped, “Don’t you dare jump, ancestor!”

Xu Fengluan answered with a kick, slamming the door with a *bang*.

The battered metal dented, the door jamming, no longer moving.

“Damn it, my car! This lunatic!” the driver cursed.

The paparazzo, furious and regretful, thought, *They warned me not to mess with Burning Meteor, especially Xu Fengluan. I didn’t listen, and now I’m screwed!*

Chu Cheng laughed, shouting, “That kick was badass!”

Maybe the thrill had gotten to her.

Xu Fengluan ignored her, eyeing the van. The paparazzo had retreated deeper, clutching his camera.

“Get closer,” she said coldly.

“I’m going, I’m going! You’re really jumping?!” Chu Cheng shouted, maneuvering.

She was dying to know what he’d photographed to drive Xu Fengluan this wild.

The road forked.

The van’s driver gripped the wheel, swerving hard. The tires screeched, sparks flying, reeking of burnt rubber.

The motorcycle followed, tilting sharply, Chu Cheng’s leg nearly scraping the ground. Xu Fengluan clung to her shoulders to stay on.

Tire marks scarred the asphalt. The van rattled, emitting a strange noise.

Streetlights dimmed, fields replacing buildings, stars brighter above.

The bike straightened after the turn.

The driver’s hair whipped in the wind.

The paparazzo clung to the seat, fearing he’d be swept off.

The motorcycle roared louder.

Their faces tensed as it closed in again.

“What do you want…” the paparazzo’s voice trembled with fear.

Xu Fengluan, gripping the frame, kicked off and leapt into the van!

*Bang!*

She landed with a crash, lunging for the paparazzo before steadying.

Chu Cheng’s bike wobbled from the push, swaying a dozen times before stabilizing.

Xu Fengluan grabbed the camera.

“You lunatic!” The paparazzo yanked back, shouting, swinging his elbow at her.

“Get off!”