Though paralyzed, still radiantly charming!

Chapter 297: Hey, I’m Ryan. Those guys are gone now

That night, Ryan found himself drifting in and out of sleep.

Even though the day’s events had left him physically exhausted, every time he was about to fall asleep, a wave of heat would wash over him, forcing him to toss and turn just to find a bit of comfort.

Caught between dreams and wakefulness, Ryan felt dazed and disoriented.

Unbidden, memories of his years with Bella kept flashing through his mind.

There were happy moments, but also terrifying experiences. Yet, when he woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air in the pitch-black room, the memory that came back to him most vividly was their first meeting.

Those eyes. That desperate need for care. Ryan had never forgotten, and he knew he never would.

“How did things end up like this…?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

He muttered softly, almost as if talking to himself. After a moment, even those words faded, leaving only a long, weary sigh.

Their first encounter wasn’t some cliché scene from a cheesy romance where childhood sweethearts lock eyes across a crowded room and grow up together.

No, Bella and Ryan faced a much harsher reality.

“Damn it! That hurts!”

A scream had pierced the evening sky, and it was that scream that had caught Ryan’s attention.

He had been running an errand for the orphanage director, just picking up a few things before heading back. But as he passed a narrow alley, his steps faltered.

The alley was deep, and the further in you looked, the darker it got. It was like staring into a black hole, with no light reflecting back. Squinting, Ryan could barely make out a few shadowy figures.

Normally, in a situation like this, the instinct would be to turn around and walk away.

The area around the orphanage was a rough part of town. The cheap rent had attracted a lot of people who had been cast aside by the city, and with so many people crammed together, it wasn’t surprising that a lot of kids ended up here too.

These kids weren’t like the ones in the orphanage. They had parents, but with their families struggling just to survive, no one really paid attention to what they were up to.

Today, it seemed like another unlucky kid was getting beaten up. It was a game these troublemakers had been playing for a long time.

Normally, Ryan wouldn’t have given it a second glance. But today felt different. His eyes were drawn to something—a flash of white.

What was that?

How could he describe that white? Ryan scratched his head. The orphanage director’s freshly washed sheets were white, and when they were hung out to dry, they had that nice, sun-kissed smell.

But that was a man-made white, something that had been cleaned. What Ryan saw now felt pure, untouched, like it didn’t belong in this grimy, gray place.

“That little brat bit my hand!”

“What are you all standing around for? Get her!”

Another shout echoed from the alley, and this time, Ryan stopped completely. He crossed his arms and stared into the alley, hesitating for a moment before taking a few steps forward.

His thoughts were simple: he just wanted to see what that flash of white was. Once he figured it out, he’d leave.

Little did he know, those few steps would change the course of his entire life.

The alley was dark, but once he stepped inside and let his eyes adjust, he could make out the scene more clearly.

The voice and the earlier scream had come from the same person. Ryan had assumed it was just another case of someone getting bullied, but now that he was closer, things seemed a bit different.

A small group of people stood a short distance away, deeper in the alley. The one in charge was furious, while the others laughed carelessly. After some prodding, they finally raised their fists and moved toward the figure in the middle.

Ryan’s gaze shifted, and once it landed on the person in the center, he couldn’t look away. That flash of white—the thing that had drawn him in—came from here.

A young girl, barely more than a child, was kneeling on the ground, clutching a shard of glass in her hand. She was gripping it so tightly that it had cut into her palm, and blood was dripping steadily onto the ground.

The girl had delicate features, like a porcelain doll, but her face was smudged with dirt.

The white dress clung to her body, wrinkled and dirty, now more gray than white.

But as Ryan’s gaze traveled upward, he saw her hair—silver, shining like a brilliant galaxy.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Ryan’s daze was broken by the sharp warning. He hadn’t even seen who had spoken yet, but he already had a guess.

Her voice was soft and ethereal, the kind of voice that would sound beautiful singing or whispering someone’s name. But right now, it was trembling, betraying her fear and desperation.

She was surrounded. This wasn’t the first time. Her voice revealed her terror, helplessness, and despair.

Bullying. Ryan silently concluded. Growing up in the orphanage, he had a decent relationship with the other kids, but he knew enough about this kind of thing.

Bullying—the coward’s way of venting frustration. Pointless and cruel.

It was common in schools. Maybe it started as a joke that went too far, and then others joined in, escalating it into full-blown harassment.

Around the orphanage, bullying was even simpler. The kids here were bored—so bored that they needed a target, someone to take out their excess energy on.

Was the “Witch Game” still a thing? That so-called game where they’d pick someone to be the “witch” and then gang up on them? It wasn’t really a game at all.

Ryan had never been involved in it, but he’d heard about it. And now, it seemed like that’s exactly what was happening. No matter what, the silver-haired girl was clearly in trouble.

“Come on, hit her! Rip out her hair!”

Ryan’s eyes followed the voice. The kid in charge had a nasty gash on his right hand, blood dripping from it.

He was furious, but fear held him back. He stood at a distance, egging the others on, but every time the silver-haired girl glared at him, he flinched, as if afraid she’d hurt him again.

“Tch…”

Ryan set down the things he’d bought on the ground, quietly impressed by the girl’s defiance.

He’d seen plenty of these kids gang up on someone before. Usually, the victim would either sit there crying, letting them do whatever they wanted, or run home, unable to handle the injustice.

This girl was today’s unlucky target, but she was different. Her amber eyes were filled with fear, and her small body was trembling, curling in on itself. But there was something else in her gaze—something unbreakable.

Like a cornered predator, her body was tense, ready to strike. Fear wasn’t going to save her, so her eyes had turned wild.

She swung the shard of glass in her hand, keeping the others at bay, but she was clearly exhausted.

The other kids were a little scared of her wildness, but there were more of them. They stood back, arms crossed, taunting her, pushing her closer to the edge.

It was disgusting.

For a brief moment, the girl’s eyes flicked toward Ryan, standing behind the group. Their gazes met, and for a second, there was a spark. But she quickly looked away.

She could tell Ryan wasn’t one of them, but she didn’t ask him for help.

She’d tried asking for help before, and it had only made things worse. The more she asked, the crueler they became.

She had talked to her teacher about it, but all the teacher did was smoke and tell her not to bother him. Over time, she stopped hoping for help and gave up asking for it.

She couldn’t understand why everyone targeted her. Was it really just because of her silver hair, which they called “cursed”?

One night, she even picked up a pair of scissors and chopped off all her long hair, thinking it might change things. But nothing got better. Those people still found ways to mess with her—they just came up with different excuses.

As Ryan walked deeper into the alley, the bullying had already reached its climax. If Bella had just endured it like she usually did, nothing more would’ve happened.

But today, she had fought back for the first time. She’d bitten the bully’s hand, and she knew what that meant. She wouldn’t be going home until they’d vented all their anger.

She glanced at Ryan again, then quickly looked away, resigned. No one could be trusted. No one could save her from this.

She had only one simple wish: that they wouldn’t ruin her new dress. Her mother would be angry if they did.

But a moment later, the punch she was expecting never came. Instead, a hand reached out toward her.

“Hey, I’m Ryan. Those guys are gone now.”

“You okay?”

“You okay?”

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