Brother Nan, steady as ever!

The sensation of the car explosion was nothing like what he’d imagined. There were no shards of metal flying everywhere; it was as if the gas tank had simply swelled and burst. There was only a blinding flash, and then tongues of fire licked at Bai Haonan’s back. His body, shocked into high alert, gave him no time for thought—he stumbled and let himself fall, rolling across the ground together with the woman.

Pinning the woman beneath him, he finally felt the warmth and softness of a living person. In this moment, all he wanted was to stay alive. To breathe deeply, to feel the ground beneath his feet—how precious those simple things seemed now. But how on earth had things come to this?

Sweat pouring down his face, Bai Haonan screamed inwardly. How had it come to this?

Now, lying on the ground by the burning wreck, drenched in cold sweat, Bai Haonan knew he was finished. Someone must have bet a fortune on the Blue Wind team to win; the odds would have been astronomical, and if someone actually hit that score, the bookies would be bankrupted. Anyone daring to open bets like that was, in the eyes of the players, someone with serious connections—veterans of the scene, gangsters from the outside, maybe even figures from Hong Kong, Macau, or Taiwan.

He didn’t know which side the mysterious phone call had come from, but anyone who could afford to lose seven million would surely have traced his phone signal—just like in the movies. Or, failing that, they’d wait by his car until he showed up, and then he’d be as good as dead—he’d already witnessed how ruthless they could be.

And now someone was dead. This could only end in blood.

Another explosion rang out, not as violent as the first, but enough to snap Bai Haonan out of his daze. The screams had faded; now he could smell the stench of burning flesh. Despairing, he wondered what he could possibly say to the police.

Just then, he noticed the man he’d knocked out earlier was stirring in pain. Despite everything—despite the man’s intent to kill him—Bai Haonan had never considered murder or silencing anyone. He checked to make sure the man wasn’t lying in the spilled fuel, then quickly picked up the woman and ran, hearing sirens and car horns faint in the distance. Someone must have called the police.

With all the chaos, the explosion, the shattered calm of the night, it would have been impossible for no one to notice. Bai Haonan could see lights flickering on in the high-rise buildings that surrounded them.

The urgency drove him instinctively to escape into the dark alleys and side streets.

Just hours ago, he’d been the city’s hero; now he was a fugitive. He had no idea what he could say to the police—turn himself in and confess to match-fixing and being hunted by criminals?

How could he explain that the dead man wasn’t his doing?

How many years did you get for fixing matches? Hadn’t a few veterans just gone to jail last year? If he ended up behind bars, those powerful men would surely send someone to kill him there—or worse, to make his life hell. The thought made Bai Haonan’s whole body tense. In their line of work, they’d heard too many stories about prison life.

That alone was enough to keep him from facing the police. He could never be a professional player again, never set foot on the field. But at least out here, he might still have a chance to survive.

That was why, even though he’d scored the goal and hadn’t killed anyone, even though he’d lost his car, Bai Haonan had no choice but to run for his life.

Two streets away, he crouched at the mouth of an alley with the half-dressed woman in his arms, watching the police, fire trucks, and ambulances converge on the scene. Only then did his trembling subside a little. Suddenly, he remembered all his documents, wallet, and phone had been reduced to ashes. He searched the woman’s clothes expertly, finally finding her phone tucked into the side of her bra near her armpit. His first instinct was to call Old Chen.

With Old Chen, there was nothing to hide. Bai Haonan was surprised at how easily he could say the unspeakable: “I’m done for. I threw the game for the bookies, but I messed up the bet. Now they want to kill me…”

Old Chen didn’t sound especially surprised. “Shit! You…” But when he heard that Bai Haonan had barely escaped with his life—and that someone had died—his voice grew years older. “Run. Get as far away as you can. Stay gone for three to five years, then see if the bookies will let you live.”

“I didn’t—” Bai Haonan tried to say, but Old Chen had already hung up. Staring at the dead line, Bai Haonan forced a bitter smile. He thought of calling other teammates, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Who knew if the police or the bookies would go after them next?

Only now did Bai Haonan realize he had never truly trusted anyone—not even his own father.

He didn’t dare call his father, not even the house line. These days, it was easy to trace call records. Perhaps only Old Chen would keep his secret, but Bai Haonan knew he’d already broken Old Chen’s heart.

Only he understood how much Old Chen had sacrificed for the team, for their success. According to their plan, if Bai Haonan played another two years, he could have followed Old Chen into a comfortable assistant coach position, never needing to worry about money again. But now, that was impossible.

Lost in thought, Bai Haonan’s phone chimed. He opened a message: “Leave tonight. Go to Xiao Fen’s. The car and keys are in the usual place. Xiao Nan, it’s time you grew up.”

He actually laughed out loud. The dark, cold world suddenly turned vivid and bright! He even felt a burning excitement.

For twenty-eight years, apart from the years he couldn’t remember, he’d spent his whole life in sports schools, teams, clubs, and stadiums. Training, competing, and fooling around—that was all he knew. Being an athlete had always been like a shackle, keeping him trapped inside those walls. He’d never truly seen the world beyond.

He couldn’t risk going to the bank for new cards, but he had a million or two in his account. So what if he had to lie low for a while? He was sick of football anyway; maybe it was time to retire. He hadn’t actually committed murder, so the police shouldn’t be after him—just the underworld. All he had to do was get as far away as possible, have some fun for a few years, and maybe come back to find a nice bit of interest on his savings.

The more he thought about it, the more restless he became. It felt like he’d been in school for twenty-odd years and had suddenly been set free for vacation. He hadn’t been the most diligent student, but to finally be free—what a relief! It was as if the world had turned upside down.

Brother Nan was about to go on the run! Bai Haonan actually laughed twice, as if life had never been difficult for him—he could still live large.

His laughter woke the woman in his arms. She blinked, still drunk, and gasped, “Ah? It hurts… Where are we?”

Her voice was a soft, lazy moan, tinged with confusion and allure. Bai Haonan suddenly felt a surge of desire and let his hands wander, met with coquettish resistance that quickly melted into pleasure. “No… Not here, don’t… Ah! Ah…”

For a long while, the dark alley echoed with sounds not meant for children.

Whether it was the alcohol or the aftermath of terror, Bai Haonan needed this kind of release.

Could anyone expect a professional athlete, raised from childhood in an environment flooded with hormones, to have especially high moral standards?

He’d always believed in living for the moment.

As for vengeance—Bai Haonan wasn’t thinking that far ahead. First, he had to survive.