My best friend had been obsessed with the mythical “seven inches” for years, turns out, it actually existed on a human being, and that human being was Zhou Yuandong.

At the time, I didn’t know any better. I just thought: Okay, yeah, this literally makes you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.

Though if you had to face that kind of monster every single time… it was honestly a little terrifying.

“You said it hurts, so I’m stopping.”

“You’re stopping? Anyone who reads romance novels knows guys never stop in the middle of it.”

The verdict: the pain brought me to tears on my very first try, and Zhou Yuandong, unable to bear watching me cry, actually… pulled back. He spent the rest of the night just kissing me gently.

The first time was a writhing nightmare, but the second attempt went a little better. I still cried from the sting, watching the dark veins bulging along his neck and the light sheen of sweat on his skin. He withdrew, wrapping his arms around me to soothe me, wiping my tears as he whispered sweet nothings that melted my heart into puddle. Maybe our bodies really were made for each other.

When our one-year contract expired, he never told me to leave. Everything carried on as smoothly as before, he spoiled me, tolerated my stubbornness, and let me throw pouting tantrums just so he could coax me back into a good mood.

Yet my heart was endlessly restless, he forced me to call him “hubby” with every breath, yet he had never once offered me a real title or future.

Then she appeared. That exclusive treatment was no longer mine alone, and that was the final straw.

I left Beijing. I left him. Ten days had passed, and he hadn’t come looking for me. Outside my door, debt collectors prowled like vultures. I was terrified.

Still, I didn’t regret running away. My only regret was leaving with this child, forcing a innocent life to drift along with a mother like me, living in constant fear.

I decided I would go to the hospital tomorrow to get rid of it. After all, if a child was born to a mother like me, could it ever truly be happy?

The persistent banging at the door lasted for nearly five minutes before abruptly falling silent.

I waited another half hour before I finally dared to creep over and peek through the peephole.

The hallway was completely empty.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. I didn’t sleep a wink that night, waiting for dawn to pack up my essentials and call a ride to the clinic.

This time, I wasn’t running anymore.

Placing my hand lightly over my lower belly, I took a deep breath and followed the nurse into the procedure room. In that fleeting moment, Zhou Yuandong’s face flashed through my mind again. Maybe right now, he was with that young girl. That was for the best, honestly.

I was nothing special to begin with, just a caged canary who relied on her looks to act arrogant. He had probably grown sick and tired of me a long time ago.

And yet… my hands, tucked neatly inside my sleeves, clenched tight. Because there were times he had been genuinely, wonderfully good to me. He remembered every single word I said, even the things I never uttered out loud.

If I hadn’t been so greedy, demanding not just his money and body, but his heart as well—maybe I could have been happy for the rest of my life.

I couldn’t help it, though. I liked him. I liked him so much it curdled into hate. I liked him so much that just picturing him marrying and having children with someone else made my heart feel like it was being crushed to powder.

So I chose to run.

As the cold IV fluid dripped into my vein, tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. Just as the nurse was about to inject the anesthetic, the door burst open.

“Sir, you can’t go in there!” a nurse panicked, trying to block the way, but a line of bodyguards instantly cut her off.

A tall, imposing man with a stone-cold face strode directly to the side of my bed.

“Little Yan.”

Zhou Yuandong’s fingers crushed the lab results in his hand. The look in his eyes was something I had never seen before—not angry, not dark, just a silent, bone-chilling coldness like late-season snow.

My heart squeezed tight. I turned my head away and closed my eyes.

“We’re about to begin the procedure. Please step outside, sir,” the doctor reminded him.

He kept his eyes locked on me, his voice dangerously low:

“I am the father. Cancel the surgery. She isn’t getting it.”

The doctor paused for a second, then said firmly:

“We need the mother’s consent.”

“Miss Little Yan, please make your decision.”

I kept my eyes shut, letting every word fall with absolute, piercing clarity:

“Proceed with the surgery. I don’t want this child.”