The fluorescent lights of MeihuaMart convenience store buzzed with a low,
tired hum, casting pale white shadows over aisles lined with instant noodles,
cheap snacks, and colourful beverages. It was just past 6 PM. The rush of
customers had died down, replaced by an occasional elderly shopper or
middle-aged passer-by picking up necessities. The air inside was tinged with
the faint aroma of microwaved buns and disinfectant.
Yin Xin stood behind the counter, scanning items with methodical precision.
His movements were automatic, honed by repetition. A polite smile tugged at his
lips as he handed over a plastic bag and bowed lightly.
"Thank you for shopping with us. Please come again."
The elderly woman nodded and shuffled toward the door, her groceries
rustling in hand.
As the glass door hissed shut behind her, the store fell into a quiet lull.
Yin Xin exhaled. His legs ached from standing since 4 PM. His stomach gave a
quiet growl, reminding him that his last meal had been lunch—half a bowl of
rice and leftover vegetables. He ignored it, straightening the items on the
counter before glancing toward the back aisle.
That's when he heard it.
A voice—low, grating, almost like a chuckle, but with something wrong
beneath it. Lecherous. Predatory.
"Come on, sweetheart. Just a little touch, eh? No one has to know. It'll be
our secret…"
Yin Xin froze.
The voice belonged to Manager Wu—the store owner and supervisor. A man in
his late 40s, Wu was short, rotund, and perpetually sweating. His receding
hairline didn't hide the oily nature of his soul, and his eyes, always scanning
with thinly veiled greed, made Yin Xin's skin crawl.
Until now, Yin Xin had always avoided confrontation. He endured Wu's sleazy
jokes, ignored his frequent leers, and swallowed down the discomfort. But
now—now the man had crossed a line.
"No—stop—please don't touch me!" came a trembling voice.
Xiao Yue.
Yin Xin's eyes widened, and he sprinted down the aisle.
The back storage area reeked of mildew and cardboard. Between boxes of
inventory, Yin Xin caught sight of the scene: Wu had Xiao Yue pinned between a
stack of mop buckets and the back wall, one arm propped against the shelf, the other hand reaching where it shouldn't, breath heavy
with perversion.
Xiao Yue was seventeen, like Yin Xin. A new hire who had only joined
MeihuaMart a week ago. She was beautiful—delicate in frame, with porcelain-like
skin, soft features, and large doe-like eyes. Her long black hair was tied up
in a neat ponytail, revealing a slender neck and refined jawline. She wore the
store's red apron over her white blouse and pleated grey skirt. But now, fear
was etched into every part of her.
Yin Xin's blood boiled.
"Let her go," he said, his voice ice-cold.
Manager Wu jerked around, startled. His grin faded, replaced by a scowl.
"Tch. What the hell do you want?"
"I said, let her go."
Wu's lip curled. "This is none of your business. Don't stick your nose where
it doesn't belong."
"She said no. That makes it my business."
Yin Xin stepped forward, positioning himself between Xiao Yue and the older
man. His fists clenched at his sides.
Wu sneered. "Trying to be a hero, huh? You're a street rat working for
crumbs. I could have ten boys begging to replace you in minutes."
"Then go ahead and
find someone else," Yin Xin said coldly. "Because I'd rather beg on the streets
than work another minute for garbage like you."
"No need," Wu spat. "You're fired."
Xiao Yue gasped behind him, but Yin Xin didn't flinch. His eyes remained
locked on Wu's.
"I'll be reporting this to the labour office. And the police."
Wu's face went red with rage. "Get out of my store!"
Yin Xin turned, gently guiding Xiao Yue away. "You okay?" he asked.
She nodded slowly, still shaking.
They left without another word. The sliding door opened and closed with a
whisper. Silence swallowed the inside of the store once more.
– – –
Outside, the night breeze was cool against Yin Xin's face.
The two of them walked beneath flickering streetlights and quiet, shadowed
storefronts. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—it was simply full.
Full of unspoken things.
"…Thank you," Xiao Yue finally said, her voice quiet.
Yin Xin glanced at her. "I didn't do anything special. Just what anyone
should have."
"You risked your job for me. That's not nothing."
He smiled faintly. "It wasn't a great job anyway."
They walked for a few more minutes, the sounds of distant traffic drifting
in from across the blocks. Then, they turned a corner—and Yin Xin's eyes
widened.
Before them stood Huating Residences—a towering high-rise, all sleek glass
and golden trim. A private driveway, concierge, and palm trees lined the
entrance. This wasn't just luxury. This was wealth.
"You… live here?" he asked, astonished.
Xiao Yue offered a tired smile. "I do."
"…Then why work at a
convenience store?" he blurted, then quickly corrected himself. "Sorry. I
shouldn't ask. Everyone has their reasons."
She looked at him
for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You're strange, Yin Xin."
"Why?"
"Most boys would
have asked ten more questions by now. But you… just accept things."
He gave a sheepish
smile. "I guess I know what it's like to not want to explain."
She reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. "Can I have your number?"
"Eh?"
"I want to talk again. And thank you properly." she said, typing quickly.
Yin Xin gave his contact. After they exchanged contacts. Xiao Yue hesitated,
then bowed slightly. "You're a good person, Yin Xin. Please take care of
yourself."
He scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "You too."
With that, she turned and entered the building, disappearing behind
automatic glass doors and into a mirrored elevator.
Yin Xin stood there for a while, staring at the gleaming building before
finally turning and heading home.
– – –
The streets were quieter now.
A thick stillness hung in the air, broken only by the distant rumble of a
motorcycle or the hum of a vending machine. Streetlights flickered overhead.
Yin Xin's footsteps echoed off empty concrete.
Then—
A sound. A soft roll of tires.
A black van turned onto the street, moving slowly.
No headlights.
No license plate.
Yin Xin felt it
before he saw it—the shift in the air, the unnatural stillness that clung to
the street like a shadow. His spine stiffened, instincts flaring with the
silent warning that something was terribly wrong.
The van pulled closer, stopping beside the curb just ahead of him.
The door slid open.
Four men stepped out—faces obscured with surgical masks and caps pulled low,
dressed in black jackets and slacks. Their movements were smooth. Practiced.
Yin Xin took a step back. "What the—?"
They didn't speak.
Two of them rushed him.
Yin Xin tried to run, but one grabbed his arm—too strong. He struggled,
threw an elbow, but then—a sharp blow to his ribs. Pain exploded through his
side.
He gasped.
Another hit to the back of his neck sent his vision spinning.
He was dragged toward the van, barely conscious. Metal slammed beneath him.
Hands bound his arms and legs.
Before darkness took him, Yin Xin saw a sliver of sky through the van
door—cold and starless.
His thoughts blurred.
Why me?
Then—
Silence.