Shifting Bad Luck

The wedding was set for three days hence. I stood before the fitting mirror, my fingertips brushing over the shoulder seam of the bespoke suit. The fabric was crisp, lending my posture a more upright bearing; the smile quivering on my lips was impossible to conceal, and even the fine lines at the corners of my eyes seemed steeped in sweetness. "Charles," Stella Lynn's voice drifted from behind, soft as a feather brushing the heart's edge, "have some warm water; it's just been left to cool." I turned to see her approaching slowly, a glass in hand. The white dress she wore made her skin appear more radiant than snow. She halted before me, her fingertips lightly tracing my wrist; the cool touch sent a shiver through me, and her gaze was so tender it could drown a soul. "Shall we go test drive the wedding car tomorrow?" She handed me the water cup, her tone inviting, "I've already had someone check it repeatedly; the car's condition is absolutely fine." I took the cup, tilted my head back, and drank it all at once; the warm water slid down my throat, soothing and comforting. Unaware, behind the tenderness in her eyes, a fleeting shadow passed so quickly it seemed like an illusion. "Sure," I said, setting the empty cup down and reaching out to stroke her hair, "Tomorrow happens to be free. Shall we go together?" Stella Lynn smiled and nodded, leaning naturally into my embrace: "I'll follow your lead." On the wedding day, the sunlight was unusually bright. I sat in the driver's seat of the wedding car, a photo of us resting beneath the windshield on the passenger side. In the photo, Stella Lynn wore a pristine white wedding dress, her eyes curved in a smile, dazzlingly sweet. "Let's go," Stella said from the passenger seat, turning to me with her usual gentle smile. "Following the planned route, we'll first go to the mountaintop viewing platform to take some pictures, then head to the banquet hall." I nodded and started the car. The engine ran smoothly as the wedding car slowly left the city, heading toward the mountain road. The winding road stretched ahead, with green trees swiftly receding on either side. I gripped the steering wheel, my heart as light as if a little bird fluttered within me, my mind filled with thoughts of the upcoming wedding ceremony and the life ahead with Stella Lynn. Halfway up the mountain, a sharp bend appeared ahead. Out of habit, I pressed the brake, only to find the pedal empty—completely without resistance! "What's happening?" A sudden tightness seized my chest, and panic instantly overwhelmed me. I pressed the brake repeatedly, but it did not respond; instead, the car accelerated down the slope. "The brakes have failed?" Stella Lynn's voice bore a note of perfectly measured alarm as she reached out to grasp the handle on the car's ceiling. I forced myself to steady my nerves, sharply turning the steering wheel, attempting to coax the car to glide slowly along the curve. But the speed was far too great; the car slid uncontrollably, the tires scraping the road with a harsh screech. "Bang ——" A tremendous crash—the wedding car burst through the roadside guardrail and rolled down the steep hillside. A searing pain swept through my entire body in an instant; the sound of bones shattering was clearly heard, like someone furiously hammering with a mallet. I felt my body being thrown about; my forehead struck the hard car wall, and blood instantly blurred my vision. My consciousness gradually faded, yet Stella Lynn's voice came to me. Strangely, there was no hint of panic in her voice; instead, it held a mechanical, electronic tone: "Alert! Vital signs of target individual Charles Jones are rapidly declining; Protected Object Alan Lewis's safety level is 100%." That sentence struck me like a bolt of thunder, splitting through the haze of my consciousness. I struggled to turn my eyes toward Stella Lynn beside me. She appeared largely unharmed, her head bowed as she looked at her palm, as if manipulating something. "All these years' accidents—indeed, they were your doing." I drew on my last ounce of strength, my voice hoarse, blood foaming at the corner of my mouth. Stella turned her head; the warmth vanished from her face without a trace, her gaze cold as frost: "That's right." Her voice bore no warmth, each word stabbing my heart like a dagger: "From the first time you fell off your bicycle, to the fire in the company warehouse, and then your last bout of food poisoning—all were my doing." The purpose is to spare Alan Lewis from the bad luck that was destined for him. "Why... do this?" My breath was faint, and the scene before my eyes grew increasingly blurred. "Because Alan Lewis must not be harmed." Stella Lynn spoke with unwavering resolve, "He is the one I must protect, and you are nothing more than an inconsequential stepping stone." No sooner had the words fallen than I lost consciousness completely.