Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 82
by Little PandaEscaping the Wedding
Outside the Cathedral, the wedding venue was bustling as traffic flowed like water and a long line of hover limousines stretched on1.
Inside the hall, guests dressed in formal attire chatted in small groups of twos and threes. Holographic projections bloomed with brilliant celebratory fireworks in the air, the pipe organ played a solemn movement, and the floor was covered with a plush red carpet.
Standing in stark contrast to this was the conference room behind the Cathedral. Its heavy, solid wooden doors were tightly shut, sealing out all the noise and bustle.
Zhan Nansheng stood before the floor-to-ceiling window in her wedding dress, staring coldly at the clamor outside as though this wedding had absolutely nothing to do with her.
“Nansheng,” Zhan Li’s voice came from behind her, deep and authoritative. “It is time.”
Zhan Nansheng did not look back. Her voice was calmer than she had expected. “Father, I want to see Wu Lan first.”
“Nonsense!” Zhan Li slammed his palm onto the conference table, making the teacups rattle. “The guests have all arrived, and you choose now to negotiate terms with me?”
Zhan Nansheng turned slowly. Not a shred of emotion could be seen on her exquisitely made-up face. “I said, if I do not see Wu Lan, I will not attend the wedding.”
Father and daughter faced off across the long table. The air seemed to solidify.
“Are you threatening me?” Zhan Li’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“No, it is a transaction.” Zhan Nansheng straightened her spine. “Release Wu Lan, and I will marry Qin Shuang immediately. Otherwise…” She suddenly raised her hand and violently tore off her veil. “I will announce the cancellation of the wedding right now.”
As the silk veil fluttered to the ground, Zhan Li’s eyes darkened instantly. He gave a cold command: “Chen Duo, bring Wu Lan here.”
Every second of the wait felt stretched to infinity.
Standing by the window, Zhan Nansheng looked at the roses blooming in the garden and suddenly remembered that Wu Lan once said they were her favorite flower. The sunlight had been beautiful that day. Wu Lan had leaned lazily against the balcony, her fingertips gently brushing the petals as she smiled and said that she was just like a thorny rose—prone to hurting others, and hurting herself…
The click of the door lock turning cut off her memories.
Wu Lan was escorted in by two guards, her wrists still bound by a Nerve Inhibitor.
Having not seen each other for three months, she had grown so thin that her features were almost hollow, her clothes hanging loosely on her frame. There were several unhealed scars on her pale face, but those dark eyes remained as bright as stars.
“Eldest Miss…” Wu Lan’s voice was somewhat hoarse, yet it carried her habitual playfulness. “You look beautiful in a wedding dress.”
Zhan Nansheng forced herself not to rush forward. Standing in place, her gaze swept inch by inch over Wu Lan’s body, confirming every single wound.
Zhan Li let out a cold snort. “Wu Lan, you certainly have a lot of nerve.”
Hearing this, Wu Lan turned to Zhan Li and gave a respectful bow. “Mr. President.” Her movements were somewhat stiff and slow, a clear sign of the injuries she still bore. “This subordinate has disappointed you.”
“Disappointed?” Zhan Li sneered. “You used underhanded2 means to bewitch my daughter. ‘Disappointed’ doesn’t even begin to cover it!” He slammed the table violently. “I should have let you rot in the interrogation room!”
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Wu Lan’s mouth, but she offered no defense.
“Father!” Zhan Nansheng could not help but take a step forward. “You promised…”
Zhan Li raised a hand to cut her off. “Chen Duo, arrange a starship to send Wu Lan to Sirius.” He cast a meaningful glance at his daughter. “She departs as soon as the wedding is over.”
“No!” Zhan Nansheng’s voice rose. “You clearly promised…”
“Eldest Miss,” Wu Lan suddenly spoke up, her voice soft but firm. “Abide by the President’s arrangements.”
Zhan Nansheng turned to Wu Lan, her eyes filled with utter disbelief.
Wu Lan gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head, her gaze gentle yet resolute.
Zhan Li nodded in satisfaction. “At least you know your place. Wu Lan, I remember all the contributions you have made to the Federation over the years. The branch bureau of the FBI in the Sirius System just happens to lack a director. It is highly appropriate for you to go there.”
This was clearly exile.
The Sirius System was located on the periphery of the Federation. Its environment was harsh and unforgiving, and a round trip to Capital Star took at least half a year.
Yet Wu Lan merely bowed her head respectfully. “This subordinate accepts the order.”
“Father!” Zhan Nansheng said urgently. “An interstellar plague is currently sweeping through the Sirius System! You are basically…”
“Nansheng,” Wu Lan cut her off once more, signaling with her eyes. “Say no more.”
Zhan Li watched this scene coldly. “Chen Duo, take Wu Lan to the lounge first. Nansheng, you should prepare for the wedding.”
Chen Duo stepped forward to lead Wu Lan away, but Zhan Nansheng abruptly blocked him. “Wait!” She turned to her father. “I want to say a few words to Wu Lan alone.”
Zhan Li narrowed his eyes, seemingly weighing the pros and cons, before finally waving his hand. “Five minutes.”
The guards withdrew outside the door, and Chen Duo followed them out with clear reluctance.
For a moment, only the two of them remained in the conference room.
Wu Lan immediately took a step forward, yet stopped half a meter away from Zhan Nansheng, exercising restraint to avoid touching her. “Eldest Miss, do not do anything foolish.”
Zhan Nansheng’s lips trembled. “You want me to just stand by and watch you be exiled?”
“It is temporary.” Wu Lan lowered her voice, her eyes shining with a light that Zhan Nansheng knew all too well. “Trust me.”
Zhan Nansheng wanted to argue, wanted to drag Wu Lan and run away directly, but she could not.
Zhan Nansheng took a deep breath, forcing down her surging emotions. She whispered, “…Fine. I will listen to you.”
Though there was clearly so much to say, as they gazed at each other now, they found themselves at a loss for words.
Five minutes seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye.
A knock sounded on the door shortly after, followed by Chen Duo’s voice from outside: “Lieutenant General Zhan, the President is urging you to come out. The ceremony is about to begin.”
Wu Lan smiled and adjusted Zhan Nansheng’s wedding dress, murmuring, “Eldest Miss, go on.”
Zhan Nansheng stood rooted to the spot, her gaze locked onto Wu Lan.
The latter gave her an almost imperceptible nod, her lips curving into a reassuring smile.
Before long, Chen Duo led his men back inside.
As Wu Lan was led away, she brushed past Zhan Nansheng, her lips moving silently:
“I will wait for you.”
Zhan Nansheng understood the shape of her lips.
A jolt ran through her, and the forbearance in her eyes instantly transformed into a look of fierce resolve.
She believed that Wu Lan would never abandon her.
The starship’s hatch slowly sealed behind her with a heavy metallic clang.
Guarded by two armed soldiers, Wu Lan was escorted down a narrow corridor. The Nerve Inhibitor on her wrists flashed with a deep blue light, each surge of current bringing a subtle sting.
Her expression remained calm, her eyes quietly scanning every corner of the cabin—the location of the escape pods, the blind spots of the surveillance cameras, and the armaments carried by the guards.
Chen Duo walked at the very front, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
He raised his hand to signal the two guards to stop, then turned to face Wu Lan. His tone carried a hypocritically respectful air. “Director Wu, my apologies for the discomfort. The President took special care to instruct us to arrange the absolute best cabin for you.”
Wu Lan raised an eyebrow slightly. “Is that so? Then I must truly thank the President for his ‘generous hospitality.'”
Chen Duo did not reply. He merely waved his hand, gesturing for the guards to lead her into a sealed compartment.
The moment the door slid shut, the fake smile on his face vanished, replaced by a sinister glower.
“Director Wu, do not blame me.” He slowly drew a silenced pistol from his waist, its dark barrel pointing straight at her brow. “The President said that we must pull up the weeds by their roots3.”
Wu Lan’s pupils contracted slightly, but her expression remained composed, even carrying a touch of sarcasm. “Acting Director Chen, Zhan Li is ruthless and cruel. Aren’t you afraid of repeating the same mistakes of those who came before you?”
Chen Duo sneered. “For a dying woman, you sure have a lot of words.”
His finger curled around the trigger—
Yet, at this critical juncture, a massive explosion suddenly rocked the starship’s hull!
Boom—!
The entire starship shuddered violently, and an ear-splitting alarm began to blare.
Chen Duo lost his footing. His aim strayed, and the bullet whizzed past Wu Lan’s ear, burying itself in the cabin wall.
His expression twisted in alarm as he whipped his head toward the door. “What is going on?!”
In the next second, the door was violently blasted open. A squad of fully armed soldiers surged inside, the red dots of their laser sights instantly locking onto Chen Duo’s head.
The officer leading them barked, “Drop your weapon!”
Chen Duo’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks. He recognized their uniforms—this was Ming Yu’s direct unit!
“Admiral Ming?!” he roared in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?”
Ming Yu stepped out from behind the soldiers, her military boots clicking coldly against the metallic floor.
Her gaze swept over Wu Lan. Once she was certain that she was unharmed, she turned a freezing look upon Chen Duo. “Acting Director Chen, you are under arrest on suspicion of attempting to murder a high-ranking Federation official.”
Chen Duo’s face drained of color instantly. “Nonsense! I was acting on the President’s orders—”
“Apprehend him,” Ming Yu cut him off, raising her hand to signal her men.
Two soldiers marched forward, instantly disarming Chen Duo and pinning him to the deck. He thrashed and bellowed, “Ming Yu! How dare you defy the President’s orders?! Do you have any idea what you are doing?!”
Ming Yu did not even bother to look at him, simply ordering impassively, “Take him away and lock him in the confinement bay.”
Even as he was dragged out, Chen Duo continued to scream, “Ming Yu, you will regret this! The President will never let you off!”
Only after his voice had faded completely did Ming Yu turn back to Wu Lan, her gaze filled with intense scrutiny. “Wu Lan, now, it is time we discuss your identity.”
Wu Lan stretched her wrists; the inhibitor had already been unlocked by the soldiers.
She gave a soft laugh, her expression perfectly composed. “What does Admiral Ming wish to hear?”
Ming Yu asked bluntly, “Who exactly are you? What is your objective? And why have you been helping Qingpei?”
Wu Lan fell silent for a brief moment, her eyes drifting to the surrounding soldiers.
Understanding the cue, Ming Yu waved her hand to dismiss her subordinates. Soon, only the two of them remained in the cabin.
Wu Lan’s smile faded, replaced by a solemn tone. “My mother was President Rong’s personal bodyguard, and she died in battle when I was three years old. President Rong adopted me.”
“When I was seven, President Rong was framed for treason. I happened to be away with a study tour group at the time, which allowed me to escape the purge. Since then, I had no choice but to conceal my name and hide in the shadows, biding my time until now.”
Ming Yu’s pupils contracted slightly. “You are President Rong’s adoptive daughter?”
“I suppose so.” Wu Lan sighed softly, her mind wandering for a split second before she smiled. “Speaking of which, I even held Qingpei when she was a baby. She was just a tiny, soft little thing back then—incredibly adorable.”
Ming Yu stared at her, as if trying to gauge the truth of her words.
Wu Lan was in no rush. She calmly met the other’s gaze and said slowly, “I understand your reservations. If you do not believe me, you can contact Marshal Song. She met me when I was a child and can verify my identity.”
Hearing her say this, Ming Yu already believed her to some extent.
Ultimately, Ming Yu still pulled out her communicator. “Marshal Song, I need to confirm something with you.”
Once the connection was established, Ming Yu briefly explained the situation. Marshal Song remained silent in contemplation for a long while before her voice crackled through the speaker: “I did indeed have contact with the child that Zhuohua and the others adopted back then. Yes, the details Wu Lan mentioned match perfectly. She must be the orphan Taoyao and the others took in. I truly never expected this.”
Ming Yu’s expression relaxed slightly, her guard dropping completely.
Putting away her communicator, she looked at Wu Lan. “What do you plan to do next?”
Wu Lan’s gaze grew resolute. “Under Murong Xia’s arrangements, Qingpei should already be on her way to meet Marshal Qin Mian. I must go and assist her.”
Hearing this, Ming Yu knit her brows slightly, a trace of worry clearly visible.
She fell silent for a moment, then took out two route maps and handed them to Wu Lan. “These are the two segments of the Interstellar Route Map that were allotted to the Ming and Song families back then. Take them, and be extremely careful.”
Wu Lan accepted them, nodding solemnly. “Rest assured, I will bring Qingpei back safely.”
Ming Yu took a deep breath. She seemed to want to say more, but in the end, she merely whispered, “Make sure… nothing happens to her.”
Wu Lan smiled. “Of course.”
She turned to leave, but suddenly halted in her tracks and looked back at Ming Yu. “Oh, right. One more thing.”
“What is it?”
“Find a way to bring Zhan Nansheng here,” Wu Lan said calmly. “I want to take her with me.”
Ming Yu was taken aback, her expression turning peculiar. “Are you serious?”
Wu Lan gave a light chuckle, an inscrutable look flickering in her eyes. “She is Zhan Li’s only weakness, after all. Just as a precaution.”
The subtext heavily implied that she intended to use Zhan Nansheng as a hostage.
Ming Yu was silent for a moment before she finally nodded. “Very well. I will arrange it.”
Wu Lan raised her eyebrows in satisfaction and walked toward the ship’s control console. Her departure was clean and decisive, devoid of any hesitation.
Watching her back, Ming Yu sighed inwardly—
This woman is truly ruthless.
After Ming Yu left, Wu Lan sat quietly in the cockpit of the starship, her fingertips lightly tapping the console. Her gaze rested on the holographic news projection, keeping a close eye on the Federation broadcasts.
It was not until two hours later—
「The President’s Only Daughter, Zhan Nansheng, Disappears from Wedding Venue! Alliance Declared Shattered!」
In the news footage, the Cathedral was in utter chaos. Zhan Li stood on the red carpet with a livid face, while the bride, who should have been wearing her wedding dress, was nowhere to be found.
The corners of Wu Lan’s lips curled up slightly, a complex emotion flickering in the depths of her eyes.
“As expected, she came…” she murmured under her breath with a soft sigh. “Eldest Miss, you shouldn’t have come.”
She had known all along that Zhan Nansheng would abandon the wedding.
That proud Eldest Miss had never been one to let others pull her strings.
Yet even so, Wu Lan’s heart still felt somewhat heavy. By escaping like this, Zhan Nansheng had placed herself in direct opposition to Zhan Li. Father and daughter were now completely estranged.
She closed her eyes, forcing down the emotions welling up inside her.
Now was not the time to dwell on this. She had to proceed with the next step of her plan immediately.
Before long, a chime signaled that the starship’s hatch was being unlocked.
Wu Lan snapped her head up, her fingers instinctively resting on the gun at her waist.
“It is me,” Ming Yu’s voice came through the communicator. “I brought her.”
The hatch slid open slowly, and Ming Yu walked in with long strides, followed by a familiar figure.
Zhan Nansheng was still wearing that pure white wedding dress, though the hem was now dusted with a bit of dirt, and her hair was slightly disheveled—clear signs of her frantic escape.
Her cheeks were flushed from her hurried breathing, and she stared hard at Wu Lan, her eyes brimming with shock, fury, grievance… and something far deeper.
With a conflicted heart, Wu Lan merely offered a faint smile. “Eldest Miss, how does it feel to abandon your own wedding?”
Zhan Nansheng’s chest heaved violently, and her lips trembled. She seemed to have a thousand words she wanted to say, but in the end, she could only squeeze out a single line through gritted teeth: “…You bastard.”
Wu Lan arched an eyebrow. Just as she was about to speak, Ming Yu cut in coldly: “There is no time for idle chatter. Zhan Li’s men will likely catch up soon. The flight path has been set. You must depart immediately.”
“How do you plan to handle the situation with Chen Duo?” Wu Lan asked with concern. “Zhan Li will not let this go easily. You might find it hard to account for arresting his man.”
Ming Yu’s expression remained unchanged, saying indifferently, “Do not worry. Given my status, Zhan Li will not dare to act against me rashly.”
Knowing there was no other choice, Wu Lan could only say helplessly, “Alright. Be extremely careful.”
“Mmh.”
Ming Yu said nothing more. She turned and walked toward the hatch, leaving behind a final word: “Take care.”
The hatch sealed shut once again, leaving only Wu Lan and Zhan Nansheng in the cockpit.
The air felt entirely frozen. Zhan Nansheng stood in place without moving, and Wu Lan did not speak either. They simply locked eyes in a tense, silent standoff.
Finally, Zhan Nansheng was the first to snap. “Wu Lan, what exactly is going on between you and Ming Yu…”
Before she could finish her sentence, Wu Lan suddenly took a giant stride forward, caught her by the wrist, and hauled her into her arms.
Wu Lan’s lips were pressed almost flat against her ear, her voice deep and low. “Eldest Miss, do not ask yet. I missed you… truly, deeply missed you.”
With those words, Zhan Nansheng froze.
Wu Lan’s fingers gently brushed against her cheek, her fingertips caressing the skin beneath her eyes as if trying to etch her image into her very soul.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she murmured. “But still… I am very glad you did.”
Zhan Nansheng’s eyes reddened instantly.
She suddenly grabbed Wu Lan’s collar, her teeth clenched. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Do you?!”
Wu Lan did not let her finish, leaning down to capture her lips.
The kiss was forcefully demanding, leaving no room for refusal, yet as their lips and teeth mingled, it carried a touch of cautious, delicate adoration. Initially, Zhan Nansheng tried to struggle, but Wu Lan threaded her fingers through her hair, gently cradling the back of her neck and leaving her with nowhere to escape.
Gradually, Zhan Nansheng’s resistance softened.
Her fingers clenched tightly around Wu Lan’s clothes like a drowning person grasping at a liferaft, her response verging on desperate ferocity.
Wu Lan chuckled softly. Backing away slightly, she rested her forehead against the other’s, whispering, “Eldest Miss, did you miss me that much?”
Zhan Nansheng’s breathing was still erratic, but she glared at her stubbornly. “…Shut up.”
Wu Lan smiled, her gaze turning darker.
She swept Zhan Nansheng up in one motion and sat her on the console, her fingers lightly hooking the strap of the wedding gown and slowly pulling it down, exposing a rounded shoulder and a delicate collarbone.
Zhan Nansheng’s breath hitched. She instinctively raised a hand to pull the fabric back up, but Wu Lan immediately pinned her wrist.
“Why hide?” Wu Lan chuckled, her voice husky. “Weren’t you quite bold when you ran away from your wedding?”
The tips of Zhan Nansheng’s ears burned, yet she glared defiantly. “…Stop being so smug.”
Wu Lan’s thumb rubbed against her wrist, the pulse beneath her fingertips racing.
Leaning in close, her nose almost brushing the side of Zhan Nansheng’s neck, she took a deep breath—
“Eldest Miss,” she sighed softly. “You still smell exactly like this.”
Zhan Nansheng felt a shudder pass through her.
It was her usual perfume, a scent Wu Lan had once said reminded her of roses blooming in the height of summer.
Wu Lan’s lips pressed against the side of her neck in a gentle kiss, causing Zhan Nansheng’s fingertips to tighten sharply.
“You—”
She was about to speak, but Wu Lan suddenly nipped her—not hard, but enough to make her entire body go limp.
“Shh.” Wu Lan’s lips traced the line of her neck, her warm breath washing over her skin.
Zhan Nansheng’s chest rose and fell sharply. Wu Lan’s fingers slid deftly to her back, untying the complex laces. Instantly, the fabric fell loose, revealing a broad expanse of snowy skin.
“Wu Lan!” Zhan Nansheng hissed in shame and anger.
She reached out to push her away, but Wu Lan locked an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against her chest.
“Do not move,” Wu Lan murmured, her deep voice carrying an undeniable command. “Just let me hold you for a moment.”
Zhan Nansheng went stiff.
Wu Lan’s embrace was warm, even somewhat burning.
Her arms bound Zhan Nansheng’s waist tightly, her chin resting on the crown of her head while her heavy breaths fell by her ear. Zhan Nansheng could clearly feel her heartbeat—thudding rapid and hard, stroke after stroke.
“Bastard! You absolute bastard!”
Zhan Nansheng’s eyes reddened as she suddenly gripped her collar. “Why didn’t you tell me your plan sooner?! Why did you make me believe you were truly being exiled?!”
Wu Lan’s fingers caressed her cheek, gently wiping away the moisture at the corner of her eyes. “Because only then would your father believe that you had truly fallen into despair.”
Zhan Nansheng’s throat tightened. “You bastard…”
Wu Lan chuckled. “Mmh, I am a bastard.”
She lowered her head and kissed Zhan Nansheng once more.
This kiss was fiercer than the last, carrying a long-suppressed hunger and possessiveness.
Zhan Nansheng’s lips were kissed to the point of numbness, her breathing completely shattered. Her fingers mindlessly gripped Wu Lan’s shoulders as if clutching her sole anchor.
Wu Lan’s palm slid down the curve of her waist, supporting the crook of her knees as she scooped her up.
Zhan Nansheng let out a soft cry of surprise, her legs instinctively wrapping around the other’s waist.
“Hold on tight,” Wu Lan whispered hoarsely. “Let us take this elsewhere.”
Zhan Nansheng’s face burned crimson, yet she still glared stubbornly. “…You had better not regret this.”
Wu Lan’s eyes were terrifyingly dark. “Eldest Miss, I should be the one saying that.”
Carrying Zhan Nansheng, she strode toward the ship’s sleeping quarters.
What followed was like dry tinder meeting an intense blaze4, consuming them both in a scorching heat.
Amid soft, repetitive whimpers, Zhan Nansheng was drained of all her strength, ultimately curling limply into Wu Lan’s embrace. Several red marks stood out on her bare shoulders, and the skirt of her wedding dress had long since been crumpled into a messy pile around her waist.
Her breathing gradually stabilized, tiny teardrops still clinging to her lashes.
Wu Lan reached out to brush away the sweat-dampened hair on her forehead, her fingertips pausing when they touched her slightly furrowed brow.
“Still so restless, even in your sleep.”
Wu Lan murmured softly, gazing down at Zhan Nansheng’s sleeping face. Stripped of her usual haughty demeanor, she looked unbelievably soft and tender in this moment.
Outside the viewport, a belt of asteroids drifted past, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across Zhan Nansheng’s slumbering features.
Wu Lan was suddenly reminded of their first meeting ten years ago in the garden of the Presidential Palace—of the girl who had stood with hands on her hips, commanding her to pluck a rose. The dewdrops that had clung to the girl’s lace hem back then were just as crystal-clear as the tears on her eyelashes now.
The ship suddenly gave a slight jolt. In her sleep, Zhan Nansheng let out a soft whimper, instinctively burrowing deeper into her embrace.
Wu Lan tightened her hold immediately, using her other hand to cradle the back of her head until the person in her arms settled back into quietude.
As if sensing something in her dream, the sleeping girl mumbled incoherently, “…Don’t leave…”
Wu Lan froze in place.
“Eldest Miss, you were supposed to stand before the altar in this wedding dress…” Wu Lan’s thumb gently rubbed the reddened corner of the girl’s eye, her voice so soft she seemed afraid of disturbing her slumber. “…Marrying an Omega of equal social standing5 and bearing several beautiful children.”
The warmth of her palm seeped through the girl’s skin. “Instead of living as a fugitive on the run6 with me.”
Throughout her years of being pampered and living in luxury, when had this Eldest Miss ever been in such a sorry state?
Wu Lan lowered her head to press a kiss to the crown of her head, unable to resist murmuring softly:
“Eldest Miss, why… why are you so foolish?”
Footnotes
- The chengyu 'chēshuǐ-mǎlóng' (车水马龙) literally translates to 'carriages like flowing water, horses like a roaming dragon,' describing a bustling, crowded scene of heavy traffic.
- The word 'xiàzuò' (下作) is a derogatory Chinese insult targeting someone's low, underhanded, or scummy character, often used by elites to look down on others.
- The chengyu 'zhǎn-cǎo-chú-gēn' (斩草除根) literally means 'to cut the grass and remove the roots,' a common idiom for eliminating a problem entirely so it cannot return.
- The idiom 'gān-chái-liè-huǒ' (干柴烈火) literally translates to 'dry tinder and intense fire,' a common Chinese metaphor for intense physical passion or mutual sexual desire that ignites instantly.
- The chengyu 'mén-dang-hù-duì' (门当户对) literally means 'the gates match and the doors correspond,' referring to a traditional practice where a marriage is arranged between families of equal social and economic status.
- The chengyu 'wáng-mìng-tiān-yá' (亡命天涯) literally means 'fleeing for one's life to the ends of the earth,' commonly used to describe running away as a fugitive or living a life on the run.
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