Lin Cheng reached out and gently pinched her ankle. That counted as touching it, at least.
The world outside was still lashed by heavy rain, and Xu Wanyue clearly wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Lin Cheng walked over to the balcony and said softly, “Just leave the bowls and chopsticks there. I’ll wash them tomorrow.”
But Xu Wanyue was already carrying them toward the kitchen. Lin Cheng didn’t know what else to say, so he fell silent.
When Xu Wanyue emerged, she made another trip to the bathroom. By the time she came back out, she was holding the silk stockings she’d just taken off. Beneath her qipao, her long legs gleamed with a dazzling snow-white sheen. Lin Cheng’s gaze was drawn to them as she stored the stockings in her storage ring—the one Lemon had given her.
To the Fruit Shop, space storage technology wasn’t anything valuable.
“How about now?”
“Mm, that’s much better.”
Lin Cheng suddenly extended his hand toward her. Xu Wanyue paused for a moment before taking it. He led her to the mirror in the bedroom, picked up her hairpin from before, and began weaving her hair. Surprise flickered in Xu Wanyue’s eyes, but soon enough, Lin Cheng had finished. She gazed at her reflection and looked up. “You sure know your way around a lot of things.”
“When you’re out in the world, more skills are always a good thing.” Lin Cheng gave her shoulder a light pat. “You drove here?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Then let’s head out. Give me a ride while you’re at it.”
“Where to?”
“I feel like having a drink.”
“Sure.”
Lin Cheng grabbed an umbrella on their way out. He held it over both of them as they walked to the car together. He slid into the passenger seat while Xu Wanyue kicked off her high heels and slipped into the flat slippers she kept in the car. She drove toward the bar he’d mentioned.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived. Lin Cheng thanked her softly. The car pulled over to the curb, and he opened the door to step out. From outside the rearview mirror, he waved to Xu Wanyue. She nodded gently in return.
The car lingered in place for another five or six seconds, but Lin Cheng didn’t turn back.
Xu Wanyue watched his umbrella-shielded figure vanish into the rain. For some reason, that silhouette struck her as a touch forlorn. Her lips pursed slightly, and she muttered under her breath.
“I thought you were going to invite me along…”
Lin Cheng had just wanted to drink alone.
If he’d gone with Xu Wanyue, he worried that if he got drunk, he might end up doing something to her. And what if that silly woman got drunk too and didn’t refuse? Things would get messy after that.
He’d napped that afternoon, but without a couple of drinks tonight, he’d definitely toss and turn with insomnia. Short videos, novels, games—they’d all grown stale. Moments of loneliness crept in now and then, so a drink seemed like the perfect antidote. This was a quiet lounge bar he frequented alone, and he was on good terms with the bartender. He ordered his favorite cocktail and settled by the window, gazing out at the rain-swept city below.
The downpour intensified as Lin Cheng nursed one glass after another in silence. It was a rare stretch of lazy indulgence—pity he didn’t run into Lu Xiaoxiao tonight.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Lu Xiaoxiao in over ten days, not since they’d returned from Carrot Mountain. Neither had bothered adding the other on contacts after that, like kids sulking in a spat. The thought made Lin Cheng chuckle to himself.
They might cross paths again someday. Or maybe not. He took another quiet sip.
One glass. Two. Three. Four. Five. Each cocktail ran about ninety yuan. Litchi’s monthly allowance to him was mostly blown on drinks like these—not that she was skimping out of fear he’d go astray if he had too much cash. No, he’d insisted on it himself.
After all, what ordinary person blew hundreds of thousands a month? It was precisely because he couldn’t have fine liquor or gourmet meals every day that he craved them so fiercely. That was the essence of desire: unfulfilled, it brought pain; sated, it left emptiness. Humanity swung endlessly between the two.
Lin Cheng finished his fifth drink and rose from his chair. He settled the bill at the bar, grabbed his umbrella, and headed downstairs. The rain made it tough to flag a cab, but he wasn’t in any rush to get home. He wandered aimlessly through the city under his umbrella until, to his surprise, he spotted an ice cream shop still open. He bought a three-yuan soft-serve cone and nibbled at it slowly. Without any destination in mind, he meandered to the riverbank. The distant abandoned high-rise loomed dark and lifeless. Ripples spread across the water’s surface in vast sheets, indistinct under the lights, shrouded in deep fog farther out.
Any passerby who saw him would have pegged him for a nutcase. Luckily, the streets were empty. Rain pattered steadily on his umbrella, and a sudden chill seeped in. Fifty meters ahead lay a convenience store—maybe they had oden. Lin Cheng perked up and headed that way. But in an instant, his steps halted.
The umbrella slipped from his grasp.
No one else was on the road. He stood there in the rain as the wind snatched the umbrella away. Then his body toppled straight backward, rigid as a tree felled by the saw.
He hit the ground. Hit a pool of blood.
Blood gushed from his neck, and his head—well, it was no longer a head. It was a shattered watermelon, its red innards splattered across the pavement.
The streetlamp cast its glow over the corpse, turning the slanting rain threads to gold.
“Task complete.”
From a rooftop in the rain, the man peered through his sniper scope at the body. It hadn’t twitched in ages. Dead, for sure. He rose, disassembled the rifle, and packed it back into its case beside him.
“Confirm… complete?”
“Confirmed. His head exploded. The body’s been still for a while.” The man replied flatly into his earpiece. He didn’t get it—why go to such lengths for some ability user who wasn’t even A-rank?
But it was Black Beast’s orders. As the organization’s ace killer, his job was to obey. He’d even canceled dinner at that impossibly booked Western restaurant with his wife for this.
She’d be pissed when he got home. Lately, with age creeping in, she’d grown more nagging—chattering about other housewives’ gossip or their second-grade daughter’s test scores.
He never paid it much mind. He’d just listen patiently in silence until she finished her ramble, then she’d nestle into his arms for a gentle hold. He’d never imagined building a family of his own before. But sometimes love struck out of nowhere, like thunder crashing in your ear.
The man turned his head. Lightning flared brilliantly across the distant sky. And there, right behind him, stood a man staring at him with a blank expression.
A man whose head he’d just blown open—twenty seconds ago, plain as day in the scope.
“Why kill me?” Lin Cheng asked softly.
For someone who’d just taken a sniper round to the skull, Lin Cheng didn’t look angry at all. If anything, his calm was unnervingly serene. To the man, that composure bordered on terrifying.
“You killed Qin Huan. A life for a life.”
“Fair enough. What’s your name?”
“Shadow Sting.” No point hiding it. Plenty of people knew Black Beast had an ace killer by that name—one of their three S-ranks.
“I didn’t expect it so soon.” Lin Cheng fell silent for a beat. “Looks like… you got my info from more places than just Viper.”
Shadow Sting’s expression didn’t shift. “I follow orders from above. That’s not for me to worry about.”
“Got it. I believe you.” Lin Cheng nodded lightly.
An odd standoff settled over them. Shadow Sting keenly sensed the killing intent in the eyes of the man standing there in the rain. As a killer who prowled the shadows, he was hypersensitive to it.
“Any last words for the guy on your earpiece? Feel free.”
“You think you can kill me?”
“Mm.” Lin Cheng reached up and slowly drew the black-runed long sword from his ear clip. In the rain, its black-and-gold runes ignited with light, exquisite and beautiful as a work of art.
Shadow Sting produced two black prism thorns from his storage ring.
As Black Beast’s top assassin, his prowess was beyond question. He’d broken through to S-rank three years prior. His ability let him melt into the night, granting him unparalleled speed.
He gripped the prism thorns tightly, yet his body remained rooted in place. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. Maybe it was Lin Cheng’s expression—too calm, as if he’d just stated a simple fact: You’re going to die… and so you would.
The rain roared around them. He hunted for the perfect opening to strike. Lin Cheng stood there, sword in hand, riddled with apparent flaws. Still, Shadow Sting hesitated, afraid to close in. His instincts knotted his heart, flooding his body with adrenaline. He drew a deep breath to steady himself and pushed his ability to its limit.
“Not gonna say anything?” A hint of puzzlement crossed Lin Cheng’s face. “Doesn’t matter if you live or die after you attack—just spit it out now. Once I swing, you won’t have the chance.”
Shadow Sting froze in place. Moments later, he spoke slowly into his earpiece. “Take care of my wife and daughter.”
He yanked out the earpiece. No more distractions. Standing amid the downpour, his body faded into the darkness until nothing remained before Lin Cheng but sheets of rain.
The raindrops suddenly parted in a bizarre split. Shadow Sting materialized right in front of him. But the sword’s runes blazed to life in that instant. In their golden glow, Shadow Sting caught the reflection of Lin Cheng’s eyes. His ability was speed incarnate, shadowless and supreme. Yet the moment he registered the blade, it had already severed his neck. Blood fountained across the ground.
Lin Cheng bowed his head, silent for a moment. He let out a soft sigh, slid the sword back into his ear clip, and pulled out his phone to call Litchi.
“I was attacked.”
