Chapter4 the gate of abyss(part1）

Over the next seven days, Su Liwan drifted through her days like a woman walking on clouds, every step light and unmoored, stripped of all grounding. The world around her felt hazy, filtered through the glow of Zhou Hu’s endless generosity—no longer the cramped, ordinary life she’d always known, but something glittering, reckless, and intoxicating. She’d wake up each morning with a flutter in her chest, already anticipating the sound of his motorcycle engine, the weight of a new gift in her hands, the thrill of being seen, wanted, and spoiled like never before.

The moment the final school bell rang each afternoon, Zhou Hu’s black motorcycle would be waiting, parked dead-center in the school gate’s most eye-catching spot without fail. He’d lean against the bike, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his dark eyes locking onto her the second she stepped out of the building. No matter how many students stared, no matter how many whispers followed her, he’d never look away—his gaze was always on her, possessive, unapologetic, and utterly focused.

Some days he swept her away to luxury malls for shopping sprees, yanking her into designer stores and piling bags into her arms before she could even protest. Others he treated her to meals at every trendy new restaurant in the city, ordering entire tables of food just to see her smile, never glancing at the bill. On quiet nights, he’d simply ride with her through the streets, the evening wind tangling in their hair, the city lights blurring around them as they raced through empty roads. He never pushed her for more than she was willing to give, but he never let her forget who was in control—every touch, every gift, every ride was a reminder that she belonged to him now.

His generosity bordered on reckless: designer handbags, the newest smartphone models, thick wads of cash, all pressed into her arms without a second thought, as if these luxuries were nothing more than loose change. He’d slip a stack of bills into her purse before she even left the car, telling her to “buy whatever she wanted,” to “never worry about money again.” For a girl who’d grown up counting every cent, who’d never had anything more than hand-me-downs and cheap snacks, it was a high she couldn’t come down from—a rush that made every lecture from her parents, every warning from her friends, every worried look from her teacher, fade into the background.

The first to pick up on the shift was her deskmate, Lin Xiao. Lin Xiao had always been the quiet, cautious one, the one who studied hard and stayed out of trouble, and she’d watched Su Liwan’s transformation with growing unease.

“Have you gotten a boyfriend lately?” Lin Xiao murmured, her voice laced with curiosity as she leaned in, her eyes darting to the expensive new phone Su Liwan was clutching in her lap.

“Someone’s picking you up every day, and you’re getting all these expensive gifts. It’s… it’s not normal, Liwan.”

A flush rose to Su Liwan’s cheeks. She offered neither confirmation nor denial, only a soft, evasive reply: “Stop guessing. It’s none of your business.”

Lin Xiao’s brow furrowed, worry edging into her tone. “That guy looks like a delinquent. I saw him smoking by the gate yesterday, surrounded by other guys just like him. You have to be careful, okay? Don’t let yourself get hurt. These kinds of men don’t just give things away for free.”

Su Liwan’s chest tightened, a flicker of unease pricking at her for a split second. But the surge of vanity quickly swallowed it whole—how dare Lin Xiao judge her? How dare she insinuate that Zhou Hu’s love was anything less than real? She tilted her chin, a faint, defiant smile playing on her lips. “He treats me really well. Better than anyone ever has. You just don’t understand.”

Lin Xiao sighed, shaking her head, and said nothing more. But Su Liwan could feel her eyes on her for the rest of the day, a heavy, judgmental weight that only made her cling tighter to Zhou Hu’s attention.

That evening, when she turned in her homework, Qin Hai spotted a string of uncorrected mistakes in her math problems. He slid the exercise book toward her across the desk, his pen tapping gently at the errors, his voice gentle but sharp with unmasked concern.

“Liwan, you’ve been off your game these past few days. These mistakes aren’t like you. Is something weighing on you? You can tell me, you know.”

Su Liwan’s fingers curled around the edge of her desk, trembling faintly. She dropped her gaze, staring at the scuffed toes of her shoes, lying smoothly: “I’ve just been a little tired lately, teacher. I stayed up late studying, I guess. I’ll fix it next time, I promise.”

Qin Hai held her gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes swimming with emotions she couldn’t parse—worry, sadness, a quiet ache that made her chest ache in return. He knew she was lying. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his jaw tightened, in the way he sighed softly, as if he’d known all along.

“If you’re struggling with anything, my door is always open. No matter what it is, you can come to me. I’ll help you.”

Su Liwan nodded frantically, spinning on her heel and fleeing before she could meet his eyes again. She could feel his gaze on her back as she walked away, a heavy, loving weight that made her want to turn back, to apologize, to tell him everything. But the thought of Zhou Hu waiting for her outside, of the gifts, the attention, the thrill, made her keep walking—faster, faster, until she was out of the building, into the warm, waiting arms of the man who’d promised her the world.

That weekend, Zhou Hu took her to an upscale billiards lounge, a dimly lit space filled with the smell of cigarette smoke and expensive liquor. He introduced her to his crew—tough, loud men with tattoos and leather jackets, who greeted her with boisterous, unified “Sister-in-law” calls, clapping Zhou Hu on the back and winking at her. Su Liwan stood at Zhou Hu’s side, her hand tucked into his, soaking in the envious, curious stares from everyone in the room. The satisfaction thrumming in her chest was almost too much to bear—for the first time in her life, she wasn’t the invisible girl, the quiet one, the one no one noticed. She was Zhou Hu’s woman. She was someone.

Zhou Hu slung an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest, his tone arrogant and unyielding as he addressed his friends. “This is my girl. No one lays a hand on her, ever. No one talks to her unless I say so. She’s mine, and you all respect that.”

Su Liwan pressed herself against his chest, her heart hammering in her ears. She thought of Qin Hai’s soft, worried eyes, of the way he’d looked at her when she lied, of the quiet, steady love he’d always offered her. A flicker of guilt pricked at her, sharp and hot—but it was drowned out instantly by the heady rush of being cherished and desired, of being the center of someone’s world. She tilted her head up, looking at Zhou Hu, and smiled.

That night, she lay in bed, scrolling through Qin Hai’s WeChat Moments long after Zhou Hu had gone home. He’d posted a photo of the school’s osmanthus tree, its branches heavy with golden blooms, captioned: “The osmanthus blooms, and students ought to focus on their studies. Wishing everyone a productive weekend.”

Su Liwan stared at the screen for ages, her finger hovering over the message box. She wanted to reach out, to ask about the math problems, to hear his voice again, to apologize for lying. She wanted to tell him that she was scared, that she was in over her head, that she didn’t know how to get out. But in the end, she locked her phone and set it aside, turning onto her side and staring at the wall.

She knew, with a cold, sinking clarity, that she’d already stepped through the gate of the abyss. And there was no turning back.

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