Si Zhen still wore that same smile as he bowed slightly toward Luo Yang, his posture even more formal than when they first met.
“Mr. Luo, have you been doing well lately?”
“The way you address me has changed.”
Last time, he had called him “Sir,” but this time it was “Mr. Luo.” The difference was just a surname, but Luo Yang understood perfectly well what it implied.
“It seems you’ve been looking into me.”
Si Zhen touched the brim of his hat, not denying it.
“I have,” he admitted with a candid smile. “But to be honest, this is the first time in all my years in this business that I’ve stumbled so badly. I thought the Shattered Night Society’s influence in Shenzhou was significant, but it turns out I still couldn’t uncover your background.”
“Oh?”
“The files are there in the database. We can see your name, your enrollment record in Yuanxing City, and the traces of your life in this city. But further than that, there is nothing.”
Si Zhen reached out and grasped at the air, his fingers closing as if catching nothing but a void.
He looked up at Luo Yang, and the insincere glint of a smile in his eyes finally faded a little.
“Your identity, Mr. Luo, is truly extraordinary.”
Luo Yang sneered inwardly.
It would be a miracle if you could find anything.
His grandfather’s red encryption lock was still on his files. Even the Chief of the Internal Affairs Department of the Special Division had broken out in a cold sweat trying to look it up. For a subterranean organization like the Shattered Night Society that couldn’t even show its face in public, even knowing his name meant their intelligence was quite good.
“Enough,” Luo Yang said, moving his blade half an inch to the side. “One doesn’t visit without a reason. Why are you here today?”
“It is still about Miss Qiu.”
Luo Yang’s finger flicked lightly against the hilt of his blade.
“Then you should go directly to her.”
“Mr. Luo, that isn’t quite right.”
Si Zhen shook his head, his hat swaying with the movement.
“Miss Qiu gave me her answer last time, and her stance was very clear. It would be rude of me to show up at her door again with such thick skin.”
“Then you came here today because you want me to pass on a message?”
“No.”
Si Zhen was very direct.
“I came here today to invite you, Mr. Luo, to join us.”
Luo Yang rested his blade completely against his leg and pointed a finger at the tip of his own nose.
“...Me?”
The gesture was so absurd that even he felt it was a bit surreal.
“Don’t tell me I’m also some fragment of a great being scattered about?”
Si Zhen stared at him for a few seconds, his gaze holding a complex meaning, as if he were carefully evaluating him or making a comparison.
Finally, he shook his head.
“No.”
“Well, that’s good then.” Luo Yang breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately frowned. “Then why are you asking me to join? I’m not the person you need.”
“Mr. Luo, your relationship with Miss Qiu is extraordinary. I can see that.”
As Si Zhen said this, his tone slowed down slightly.
“As long as you agree to join and then use your influence to persuade Miss Qiu, things would be much simpler, wouldn't they?”
Luo Yang looked at him, his mouth twitching as he nearly spat out the words in his mind.
Did your brain take three laps around the world just to grow into this logic?
He had seen people use indirect tactics in his life, but he had never seen someone so blatantly suggest using him as bait. To put it bluntly, he wanted to use Luo Yang as a fishing rod to catch Qiu Shubai.
He let out a scoff.
“Mr. Si, what makes you think I would ever join you?”
The trace of a smile on Si Zhen’s face gradually vanished, replaced by a profound seriousness.
He looked at Luo Yang, the profile of half his face appearing exceptionally sharp.
“You will.”
“Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but that day is not far off.”
Luo Yang’s heart seemed to skip a beat. He heard something else in Si Zhen’s words; it wasn't a persuasion or a recruitment, but a declaration.
Si Zhen was certain he would join—so certain that he didn't even bother to explain further.
They definitely have some sort of plot.
“What are you planning?”
Si Zhen smiled again.
But this smile was uglier than any before—a hollow smile with no warmth in his eyes, like a mask of a smiling face stretched tight by sheer force.
Without answering, Si Zhen’s figure began to turn transparent. Starting from the edges of his suit trousers, he slowly melted into the shadow by the head of the bed until he vanished completely.
On the floor where he had just been standing, a business card lay quietly.
Luo Yang crouched down to pick it up. It was made of metal, about the size of a palm, and felt heavy in his hand. The surface was polished to a bright shine that felt somewhat unsettling to look at.
The front was printed with Si Zhen’s name and an eleven-digit phone number.
That was it.
No logo, no title, no address—it was as clean as if it had been intentionally compressed to the bare minimum.
He stood up and pulled open his desk drawer. Inside was a jumbled mess of useless things: expired membership cards, a keychain with a broken link, and sticky notes covered in scribbles that looked like gibberish.
He tossed the metal business card inside.
The card hit the bottom of the drawer with a dull thud.
Luo Yang pushed the drawer back in and let out a cold snort.
...
On the other side of Yuanxing City, the various commercial districts were just beginning their nightlife, with neon lights illuminating the streets in brilliant colors. Tang Xuan led the other three from the street corner into a shop, her heels clicking cheerfully on the floor tiles.
“Boss! A private room, the one at the very end of the second floor!”
Her voice cut across the entire first floor, causing even the people at the corner table to turn their heads and take a peek.
Behind the bar, a balding middle-aged man was wiping a glass. Hearing that voice, he didn't even look up.
“I heard you, I heard you.”
He walked out from behind the bar, and as soon as he saw the face at the door, he became lively.
“Oh, little Tang, you brought quite a crowd this time.”
“You bet.”
Tang Xuan patted his shoulder.
“It’s my treat today. The usual—give me several extra servings of meat.”
“You got it!”
The private room on the second floor wasn't large. A copper roaster was embedded in the center of the round table, and the charcoal beneath it was already lit, glowing a bright red. Two faded posters of celebrities hung on the wall.
Tang Xuan sat directly in the seat facing the roaster and tossed her jacket over the back of the chair.
“Sit, sit, everyone.”
Li Qiang sat to her left, while Chu Zimo picked the chair closest to the door, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Qiu Shubai sat opposite Tang Xuan, slightly further away from the fire.
The food arrived quickly—fatty beef, pork belly, one plate after another being set on the table.
Tang Xuan rolled up her sleeves, grabbed the tongs, and said, “I’ll do it!”
She spread the first chopstick-full of fatty beef onto the grill. The fat dripped onto the charcoal, sending up a wisp of white smoke with a sizzle.
Li Qiang pulled a pair of chopsticks from the holder and reached over to help her flip the beef tongue on the other side. The two of them didn't speak much, but their coordination was quite seamless.
Chu Zimo didn't move his chopsticks. The sauce in the small dish in front of him, which the waiter had just placed, remained untouched. He stared at the charcoal fire, or perhaps at something even further away.
Tang Xuan, her mouth full of pork belly, mumbled incoherently, “The meat here is still the best... the owner’s wife marinates it herself...”
Li Qiang was splashed by a tiny bit of sauce from her mouth. He wrinkled his nose but didn't say anything, silently shifting his body half a seat away.
The meat on the copper roaster sizzled.
Qiu Shubai slowly chewed the grilled meat, her gaze sweeping over the table and then over her three teammates.
It had been a long time since she had sat in a place like this.
Halfway through the meal, a dull thud echoed up from the first floor.
The sound wasn't loud, mostly drowned out by the muffled chatter, but all four of them heard it clearly.
Then came a second sound.
Bang!
On the wall of the private room facing the stairs, several fine cracks appeared out of nowhere. They spread from the center of the plaster in all directions, as if someone had punched the wall from behind.
Tang Xuan finally swallowed the meat in her mouth.
She stared at the cracks and slowly uttered a single sentence.
“Motherfucker...”
She slammed her chopsticks onto the table.
“I can’t even have a damn meal in peace!”
She snatched her jacket from the back of the chair and swung it on, already standing by the door as the movement finished.
“Captain, I’m going to go check it out.”
Before Qiu Shubai could respond, the door had already been pushed open.
The stairs creaked under Tang Xuan’s heavy, rapid footsteps as she rounded two corners to reach the first floor.
The scene on the first floor was not right.
Most of the customers who had been sitting leisurely had dispersed, and the few remaining were huddled against the wall, none of them daring to move. The balding boss was crouched behind the bar, half his face hidden under the cash register, clutching his glass tightly.
The rolling shutter at the shop entrance had been smashed, leaving a large dent.
A piece of plaster had collapsed at the dent, and a youth in a student uniform was embedded waist-deep in the wall. His feet hung a few inches above the ground, his head slumped, and his chest rose and fell slowly.
Standing in front of the youth were six or seven people, about the same age as him, all dressed quite well. The leader was also a youth with eye-catching golden hair, wearing a well-fitted small suit and twirling an expensive lighter in his hand.
“How many times do I have to say it?”
The blonde boy’s voice wasn't loud, but every word sounded extremely impatient.
“Don’t... refuse... a polite... offer!”
With every word, the hand twirling the lighter stopped for a beat.
His companions behind him chuckled in agreement. A faint scent of blood permeated the air, drifting into Tang Xuan’s nose with the draft she created.
Blood energy was slowly circulating around all seven of them; clearly, they were all Punishers.
Tang Xuan stood on the last step of the stairs, unmoving.
Her gaze swept past the lackeys and landed on the blonde boy. As she took in his overly flashy hair and saw his face clearly, her anger surged from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, making her ears ring.
“Well, if it isn't Tang Yun!”
The voice wasn't loud, but at that moment, all the noise on the first floor seemed to be cut by a pair of scissors, falling silent.
The blonde boy finally stopped twirling the lighter.
Before he could even turn around, Tang Xuan’s right hand was already raised.
The moment her palm opened, a ball of incandescent light condensed between her fingers. The light orb didn't fly from her fingertips; it was hurled forward by her entire arm. It was spherical, larger than an adult's head, with incandescent flames curling around its edges.
The light orb flew out, hugging the floor tiles, and smashed right in front of the group’s heels.
Boom!
The airwave first tore through the lackeys' clothes and then blew them backward. Two of the blonde boy’s companions were carried by the blast and thrown out onto the street, unable to recover for a long time.
Only the blonde boy remained. The airwave pushed him back five or six steps diagonally, his soles dragging two scorched marks across the floor tiles, but he managed to stay upright.
The lighter fell to the ground, rolling a few times before stopping in front of his toes.
He finally turned his head. The expression on his face was first one of confusion, his eyes still holding traces of lingering impatience. But when his gaze met Tang Xuan standing at the foot of the stairs, his entire face seemed to collapse from the chin up, looking as if he had just bitten into a bitter melon.
That one shout sounded as if he had just encountered the most unwanted harbinger of calamity in his life.
“Sis?!”
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