RUMBLE—

A thunderous roar suddenly erupted, like a mountain collapsing.

From within the dark curtain of rain, a blinding beam of light cut through the downpour. In the next instant, water and debris came hurtling forward, smashing violently against the windshield. Cracks spread like spiderwebs across the glass.

Too late?

In her past life, this was exactly the moment Lincoln had been returning from an inspection in near City. Right at this curve near Silver Creek, a landslide struck. His vehicle had plunged into the ravine below. He was severely injured and had spent three months in recovery. Ever since, his health had steadily declined. Evelyn even remembered overhearing someone say that Lincoln might not live past forty…

But now—no matter what—it couldn’t happen again.

She couldn’t watch it happen again.

Not just because it was her duty as his secretary *and* bodyguard… but because she needed to hold on to Lincoln—*her golden ticket*.

The thought made Evelyn’s chest tighten with anxiety.

That flash of headlights just now—*it had to be Lincoln’s car.*

This was exactly where it had all happened in her previous life. The rescue came too late, and he’d been trapped all night. And she…

Up ahead, she could hear the distant clatter of falling rocks. Her heart nearly stopped.

Evelyn quickly switched on every light her car had, grabbed a flashlight and a coil of rope from the backseat, and flung the door open, sprinting into the rain.

Sure enough—the road ahead was blocked by debris. Boulders littered the path. At the edge, a vehicle was jammed between the guardrail and a massive rock, its headlights still glowing faintly.

The car swayed slightly—*about to slip into the ravine below!*

Evelyn’s face went pale. Without thinking, she dashed toward the vehicle.

“Vice President! Can you hear me? Lincoln?!”

She scanned the area, quickly securing the rope to two nearby anchor points, buckled it tight around her waist, and carefully crawled forward under the trembling beam of her flashlight. Rain streamed down her face, but she wiped it away and pushed on.

As she neared the car, she saw that the body had already crumpled in several places—it was heavily damaged. The license plate confirmed it: 

Lincoln’s car.

“Is anyone in there? Lincoln?!”

She was already soaked to the bone, her hands trembling from the cold and fear. One of the rear doors had been forced open, pinned beneath a massive boulder—leaving only a narrow gap.

She didn’t dare move it. One wrong shift in the car’s balance and it would tumble down the mountainside.

“Evelyn… Evelyn…”

Just as Evelyn stood frozen in place, heart racing and drenched in cold sweat, a faint voice called out.

That voice—

Fred!

“Fred? Is that you?”

Evelyn aimed her flashlight toward the front of the car. There, the driver—Fred—had already crawled out. He was clinging tightly to a nearby tree, one leg buried under rubble, blood staining his pants and the ground around him.

“It’s me… I’m okay… but go—go save Lincoln… he and Glen… they fell down the slope…”

Fred gasped a few times, his voice laced with barely concealed panic and worry. It was only then that Evelyn noticed the broken branch lying next to him…

Without wasting a second, Evelyn quickly shoved away the heavy boulder pressing down on Fred’s leg and dragged him under the shelter of a nearby tree. Then, plunging into the darkness, she carefully began to make her way down the slope.

Loose soil and shards of rock slipped under her feet with every step. The entire slope was unstable, the surface soggy and fragile. Any slight movement sent a fresh wave of debris cascading down. Evelyn gripped a branch with one hand, holding the flashlight in the other as she swept the beam over the slope below—but still, no sign of Lincoln.

She called out several times—no response.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. An inexplicable wave of dread began to take root, heavy and suffocating.

Whoosh—

Just as Evelyn extended her right foot to test the ground ahead, the earth beneath her suddenly gave way before she could even put her weight on it. Instinctively, she grabbed the nearest branch and clung tight. The rope around her waist jerked as it caught her weight, swinging her slightly.

A cold sweat broke out across her back.

“Dad…”

At that moment, a soft, trembling voice, barely audible through the storm, reached her ears. It was coming from below!

“Don’t be afraid, it’s okay.”

The voice was calm, soothing, and too familiar…

Evelyn froze for a moment. The light in her hand immediately swept downwards. Sure enough, a few meters below, a long, slender hand was gripping a crooked tree branch. A dark figure was pressed against the mountain wall behind, and as her light swept over, Lincoln’s familiar figure emerged in her sight…

As the light flashed past him, he suddenly looked up, and Evelyn’s gaze collided with his. His deep, dark eyes, bottomless as the night, locked with hers.

Lincoln’s charm was undeniable—even Evelyn couldn’t help but marvel at it.

This man had exquisitely handsome features, strikingly elegant. His brows, sharp as swords, framed eyes that held an innate sharpness and perceptiveness. There was an air of reserved, quiet sophistication about him, his demeanor always calm and collected. His elegance, calmness, and sense of unshakable authority radiated a charisma that was impossible to resist, yet beneath that was a quiet tranquility, a cold beauty that still held warmth…

This was the Lincoln Evelyn knew.

At that moment, his iron-gray tailored suit was soaked through, muddy and weathered. His strikingly handsome face still carried its cold, aloof aura. In his arms, he was holding a child tightly.

He looked somewhat disheveled. His face was pale, his lips barely tinged with color, looking faintly unhealthy, but his sharp aura remained undiminished.

The child… Evelyn knew him—Glen Norman, incredibly handsome, more so than many adults. She had seen him several times before. Outsiders often mistook him for Lincoln’s illegitimate child, but in truth, Glen was Lincoln’s nephew. He always called Lincoln "Dad."

When Lincoln saw Evelyn, his expression held a hint of surprise. He watched her silently, and in his dark, starry eyes, there was a flicker of astonished curiosity.

Evelyn didn’t have time to think. Once she confirmed their presence, she immediately took another long rope and lowered it down.

“Lincoln, grab the rope.”

His voice, low and husky, barely betrayed any panic. She had never seen him truly lose his composure.

“Grab it tight, I’ll go down. Don’t move, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Lincoln responded calmly, securing the rope tightly, carefully propping himself up against a tree branch as he began to climb.

But as soon as he moved, the branch snapped with a loud crack.

“Be careful!”

“Ah—!”

The child in Lincoln’s arms screamed, instinctively clinging to Lincoln. Lincoln furrowed his brows, his pale face tightening even further. It was hard to tell if the moisture on his forehead was sweat or rain.

Seeing this, Evelyn’s face went pale. She knew he was struggling to hold on. Without a second thought, she quickly slid down to his side. In an instant, pain shot through her back, sharp and intense. Her body trembled, but she gritted her teeth and sucked in a breath, quickly reaching out to support his back.