Crossing the Line

Synopsis:




After graduating from university, Meng Luobai became a family doctor.




Fortunately, life was nothing like a novel. The wealthy people she served were mostly proper and well-mannered, and they made appointments for consultations—rarely did they call her up in the middle of the night to patch up a lover who'd come home covered in injuries.




The occasional unhinged client was just a bit of spice in life.




But this day was different. Her old employer called her in the middle of the night, asking her to come to a friend's house for a consultation.




At 2:30 in the morning, the manor was blazing with lights, and the old butler and servants were all silent as mice.




Meng Luobai walked into the master bedroom. Her eyes landed on spilled red wine, antique vases shattered across the floor, and the air still carried the scent of blood.




In the corner, a man and a woman were trembling, their bodies layered with wounds, heads bowed as they sobbed quietly.




Without waiting for anyone to say a word, Meng Luobai grabbed her medical kit and hurried forward. But before she could reach the injured, someone called out to her.




A sharp, clean voice carried a cool, world-weary edge. "Shouldn't you come check on me first?"




The young voice had a familiar ring to it. Meng Luobai hesitated slightly, then turned—and froze on the spot.




The beautiful, cold little boy from back then had grown into a mature man. He lounged lazily to one side, a silk robe draped half-open over him, revealing pale skin marked with ambiguous traces. His lips were red as blood, his phoenix eyes shimmering with an almost bewitching allure—a face of pure seduction. The corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. "My back hurts so much, sister."




Her memory snapped back to the year she was seventeen.




She and her family had moved into their newly purchased villa, Zhuo Garden.




On a sun-drenched afternoon, she and her mother visited the neighbors with freshly baked cake.




After ringing the doorbell, the door was opened by a young boy. He wore a British-style school uniform, his little tie neatly fastened. Black hair, pale eyes, rosy lips, and white teeth—beautiful in a way that seemed almost otherworldly. But his expression was icy as his large eyes looked at her and asked, "Who are you looking
for?"




After that, countless times Meng Luobai knocked on the boy's door, and each time the young boy would open it with the same attitude and say, "Meng Luobai, stop bothering me."




Meng Luobai couldn't help but scold him, "I'm seven years older than you. You should call me sister."




The boy's eyes were bright as he stared at her. "I will never call you sister in my life."




So she never imagined that this boy would grow into a man of eerie allure and cold desire.




Stripping away the obedient, innocent exterior of the boy next door, he became obsessed with her.




"I want to kiss you."




"Sister."