Recliner chair, dim lighting, and a soft, cozy cashmere blanket.

The metal pendulum swayed gently. Summer Reed stared at it for a while, her eyelids growing heavy, slowly slipping under the hypnotist’s guidance, sinking into unconsciousness.

"Miss Reed, I want you to go back to a place—not the scary one, but somewhere earlier than that."

"You and your husband just reached the helipad at the foot of the mountain. You’re holding his hand, walking forward. You see the snowy peaks ahead… Can you tell me what color the sky is right now?"

Summer’s lashes fluttered slightly. Her delicate hands, tucked under the blanket, were clasped together. “…Blue.”

“A very clear kind of blue.”

Jason Lewis had been gone for three years now. And Summer hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in just as long.

She survived that disaster. The inheritance her husband left behind could easily last her multiple lifetimes. He wasn’t around anymore to nitpick or control her every move. On paper, she should’ve been living her best life.

But whether she was at home, vacationing on a tropical island, throwing wild parties with girlfriends in one of her new mansions, even with hot male models all around—none of it helped. She still couldn’t sleep.

Most nights, she didn’t catch a wink.Sometimes, even after downing a few melatonin tablets and finally dozing off, the second she woke up, that face—his face—would pop right back into her mind. That cold but striking look of his, eyes dark like still water, laced with something between obsession and mockery. It haunted her, made it impossible to truly feel alive again.

“How were you feeling back then, Miss Reed?”

“I... I was really nervous.”

“I’d been thinking about it for a while. I was planning to bring up the divorce that day.”

Anyone who knew Summer Reed growing up would say the same thing—she was born lucky, the type of girl destined to live a pampered life.

Back when her family was still rolling in money, she was everyone’s darling, the kind of girl who lit up a room. But after they went bankrupt, everything changed. Her engagement to her high school sweetheart fell apart, and people were just waiting around the corner to watch her fall flat on her face. Then out of nowhere, Jason Lewis came along, billionaire and all, and married her.

She and Jason were actually classmates back in high school.

But back then, she was the rich girl in the backseat of a Bentley, while he was the broke kid who could barely scrape together enough to cover school fees. Forget rumors— they’d barely exchanged a full sentence.

Things were rough for Jason at Jiangcheng First High, but he stood out anyway. He clawed his way up, made something of himself. Still, Summer had barely even acknowledged his existence. She didn’t even know how to spell his name until he became successful.

And that’s what bugged her the most.

She married him for the money—fine. But what the hell was he after?

She wasn’t exactly the picture of a perfect wife. Never been the nurturing type. Barely paid attention in school. The only thing she had going for her, now that her family name meant nothing, was that she still looked good—just a pretty face, really.According to some financial gossip reporters, Mrs. Lewis was the type of beauty with no real depth.

Every time they showed up at some tech elites’ dinner parties, Jason Lewis sat at the center like a cold, untouchable figure, while all the other wives were Ivy League-level—sharp, smart, totally polished. Compared to them, Summer Reed’s flashy beauty just felt out of place, more like a showy peony that stumbled into a garden full of orchids.

Apparently, Jason wasn’t a fan of her face either.

Besides the staged kiss at the wedding, they never really kissed. Even when they did get intimate some nights, it felt more like he was just letting off steam.

Lights dimmed to the limit, her pale neck and wrists caught in his grasp, pinned and trapped like prey in a snare. There was no escaping, no fighting back, stuck under his long fingers.

Summer had never seen Jason in a moment of real passion, but she could always feel his stare.

Cold and damp, like strands of algae wrapping around her underwater, creeping up her back.

He hated her.

So maybe marrying her was his way of getting back at her—making the once high-and-mighty rich girl who used to look down on him now crawl and submit just for his wealth and power. No matter how much she begged or how hard it hurt, she had to hold back the tears and bear it.

Summer had always been good at pretending not to care. She could watch drama unfold and forget it all the next second.Now that life’s gotten messy, she’s starting to realize just how cruel she was back then. Guilt and fear fed off each other, and the more time passed, the less courage she had to look straight into those calm, indifferent eyes.

After two years of emotional torment, she finally thought—okay, no matter how much he hated her, he’d punished her enough. It took everything in her to bring up the divorce.

But who could’ve guessed? The moment she opened her mouth… the accident struck.

"…We hit a downdraft right as we were flying over the highest peak of the snow range."

Then came the alarm.

That shrill, piercing siren.

The main rotor lost balance. The whole chopper rattled like crazy, that awful weightlessness hitting wave after wave.

In her headset, the pilot’s breathing turned erratic—panic creeping in fast, giving way to shaky sobs.

Then—total control failure. The collective lever jammed.

Click-click—crackling sounds.

The cockpit instruments wobbled all over the place, the dials spinning like they’d gone mad. Outside, glaciers flew past the windows. And then… it went dead silent for a few gut-wrenching seconds.

Next thing, their helicopter plummeted straight toward a cliff.

The front-right side took the hit. The windshield shattered as a sharp ridge sliced right through it. The pilot—gone, instantly.

What saved Summer Reed’s life was that insanely expensive safety system keeping the fuel tank from going up in flames.

No explosion.

The rotor got stuck in a rock ledge. After a few bone-rattling shakes, the narrow platform somehow managed to catch the wreck. Broken chunks of mountain, mixed with snow and ice, tumbled down all around them."My husband was on the right... he was badly hurt. Covered in blood..."

Summer Reed’s voice was low, her body slightly trembling, as she got lost in the memories.

"The antenna... I think it snapped. I waited in the cabin for a whole day and night. No response from the radio at all."

"It wasn't until dawn the next day that I thought... someone was talking to me."

The hypnotist gave her a brief pause before asking, "Who was it?"

Summer’s fingers tightened into a fist. "...I don't know."

Was it the radio suddenly working again?

Or maybe the rescue team had finally arrived?

Could’ve just been her brain trying to fix itself after the trauma.

Too much time had passed. Those terrifying moments had blurred—no more clear sounds, no distinct smells left. Just patches of fuzzy colors floating in her mind.

"Miss Reed, it's okay. You're safe now," the hypnotist said gently.

He guided her through two slow, deep breaths. "You’re on the rescue chopper. In thirty minutes, you’ll be landing in a nearby town. The medical team already helped warm you up."

"Right now, you’re safe. Your heartbeat and breathing are steady. Your hands and feet are warming up again."

"The sunlight’s hitting the snowy mountain outside, turning it golden. You glanced out the window—how do you feel?""...Still cold, but I feel calmer now."

Summer Reed swallowed hard and leaned back against the recliner.

"Good. Now, imagine you've got a remote in your hand, one that can control this whole memory. You're able to pause any moment, zoom out anytime. We're stopping right inside the rescue helicopter… it's getting clearer, bit by bit..."

"You can hear all kinds of background noise right now—the blades spinning, the beeping from the monitor, medics talking to the pilot. That's okay. Just use the remote to turn the volume down."

"Now, let's look out the window again."

"There's sunlight outside, snow everywhere. You're safe now. Everything feels far away... can you tell me what else you see?"

What else did she see?

Behind Summer’s tightly shut eyelids, her pupils suddenly dilated.

One scene after another, the ones her brain had tried hard to bury for protection, came flooding back like a quiet snowfall.

Layer after layer.

And she was sinking deeper in it.

The window had shattered. The pilot wasn’t moving anymore.

Jason Lewis had lunged over from the left. His arms wrapped tight around her, shielding her completely under him. His breathing had gotten rough, the veins on his neck showing clear and tense.The cold wind cut like a knife.

Outside, a low, rumbling noise echoed, getting closer by the second—like an avalanche coming straight for them, right under her feet.

Something warm trickled down from her ear, sliding along her neck. Maybe it was fuel leaking. Or maybe it was something worse.

Snowflakes, whipped up by the wind, stung her face. The freezing temperature had numbed her sense of smell. Summer Reed didn’t dare lift her head, let alone touch the source. Her nerves were hanging by a thread.

“Am I… going to die?”

She could barely breathe. The fear had hit rock bottom, and tears had already soaked her face.

Jason Lewis’s right hand had been injured. His ring finger and pinky bent at odd angles. Summer usually couldn't bring herself to really look. But this time, panic made her reach for his hand without thinking twice.

Her beautiful eyes were red and filled with tears as she burrowed desperately into his arms.

She gripped his hand tight. Her palm was soaked—warm, damp, trembling.

Jason dropped his eyes and looked at her for a long moment. His throat moved slightly as he swallowed, voice calm and steady. “No, you won’t.”

How long had they been trapped inside the helicopter?

In a disaster like this, every second counted—and their time was running out fast.Daylight was always too harsh up in the mountains, and the nights? Pitch black. Summer Reed had long stopped counting the hours—every second felt like it was ticking down to something.

She remembered how, after they sent the distress signal, the radio just stayed silent. Nothing but waiting. She’d reach out for a hand to hold, and Jason Lewis would let her grip his without a word.

She couldn’t stand the howling wind or the muffled rumbles that hinted at avalanches. So Jason, with his only uninjured arm, awkwardly reached over and covered her ears, even though it must’ve hurt like hell.

Three thousand meters above sea level—it was freezing. Summer’s body heat was slipping away fast, and she couldn’t stop trembling.

The helicopter was white—her idea, because it looked cooler that way. But now, somewhere lost in the endless snow, it was like searching for a needle in a glacier.

She floated in and out of sleep, barely making it through nightfall, and then waiting again for daybreak.

Summer couldn’t recall the color of the rescue chopper, or the first words screamed over the noise when they got there. What stuck with her was this—someone pried her out from the back seat, set her on a stretcher, wrapped her up in a men’s parka she knew all too well.

It was zipped all the way up, hiding half her face.

From the broken shell of the helicopter to the rescue line above, the stretcher swayed as they winched her up.

And down below, barely visible through the screaming wind, Summer turned her head and saw it—dark, congealed blood, staining the snow around the wreckage.

Blotchy and broken.A huge SOS sign, big enough to catch eyes from far up in the sky.

The last stroke dragged on—long and shaky.

Aside from his hands, just about every bone in Jason Lewis’s body was broken.

His thin undershirt was soaked in blood, dark red spreading through the fabric. There was a deep, jagged wound on his thigh, so bad the bone almost peeked through. Even like that, he’d clawed his way back under the shattered wing propped up by rocks.

Jason had only ever called her “Summer” with that tone once in his whole life.

That time, on a snowy cliff, when panic and cold had nearly shut her down for good. As her consciousness faded bit by bit, it was his voice—flat but firm—repeating her name over and over, pulling her back from the edge.

He was like a broken ice axe—worn out but still holding strong.

And in the end, he was the thing keeping her alive.