The scent wasn't the rich wheat aroma from the steamer buns, nor the invigorating spiciness of red oil; it was an indescribable fragrance.
A similar scent, Sun Hang had only smelled on Bloody Mary and Wang Xiyi.
"A mysterious object? Or an infected person?" Sun Hang became instantly alert, cautiously surveying his surroundings.
A tricycle rolled over loose bluestone slabs, its cargo being fresh vegetables still sprinkled with dew; two children with backpacks and little yellow hats sitting on the stone steps in front of a shop, slurping noodle soup from large bowls; three hunched-over old ladies clustered in front of a vegetable stall, fiercely haggling with the vendor...
In just ten minutes, this old street had fully awakened, the bustling scene instinctively making one want to let down their guard...
Of course, provided that Sun Hang hadn't caught the scent unique to a mysterious object or an infected person.
This scent was faintly discernible, neither disappearing nor intensifying... which meant the source of the scent was maintaining a fixed distance from Sun Hang.
Sun Hang directly ignored those moving people or objects, yet, after eliminating so many "wrong choices," the remaining options were still infuriatingly numerous.
The source of the scent could be a person, a small inconspicuous insect, a chipped coarse porcelain teacup, or even a clump of damp soil under a pedestrian's shoe, or a cold breeze blowing through the alley.
"Clatter, clatter, clatter..." The dull sound of a cleaver hitting a chopping board reached Sun Hang's ears, along with the sizzling of oil and the cries of street vendors... There were just too many distractions, making it difficult for Sun Hang to focus and identify the source of the scent one by one.
Luckily, the scent remained, never fading.
Sun Hang pulled a pair of disposable chopsticks from the holder on the table, tore open the packaging, and snapped the two sticks apart.
The dumplings he ordered were already cooking, while at the nearby table, an old man was unrelentingly telling him about the most authentic Tianfu City food. A completely black crow flew across the street, disappearing behind a rooftop.
Sun Hang took out his phone, pondered for a moment, then put it back in his pocket.
He was hungry.
He needed to eat.
"Half a liang of dumplings, no spicy—" just as the breakfast shop owner brought over a large bowl, the scent suddenly weakened for a moment.
In that instant, Sun Hang locked onto the target—a young woman in a baseball cap with a hoodie pulled up, hands gloved, her entire body wrapped up tightly.
Her position was about fifteen meters away from Sun Hang, at a store selling soy milk and fried dough sticks. Having received a large bag of fried dough sticks and buns from the owner, she pressed down the brim of her hat, turned, and walked towards the end of the street.
Despite at least five or six people standing up after breakfast at that time, Sun Hang's instinct told him the "scent" was emanating from that woman.
"Sorry, boss, something urgent came up." Sun Hang stood up too, awkwardly apologizing to the dumpling shop owner.
"What's the rush? It's already cooked..." the owner was momentarily stunned, clearly a bit annoyed.
"Sorry about that." Sun Hang quickly pulled out his phone and scanned the payment QR code on the table edge.
"Oh, oh, young man, if it's really urgent, forget about it... you don't need to pay." The owner waved his hand repeatedly, "No problem."
"I've already paid." Sun Hang glanced at the old man who had been mumbling endlessly, "Sir, this bowl of dumplings is on me, add as much spice as you want. I'm off now."
"Young man, skipping breakfast won't do!" The old man looked unsteady but moved swiftly, immediately jumping up and pushing a plastic bag with two rice cakes into Sun Hang's hands, "No matter how busy, you can't work on an empty stomach!"
"Thank you, sir." Sun Hang casually stuffed the rice cakes into his pocket and hurried in the direction where the young woman had left.
Behind him, the old man shook his head and sighed to the dumpling shop owner, "Ah, nowadays, what do young people keep busy with? So busy they can't even eat?"
...
Although the target had vanished from Sun Hang's sight, the lingering "scent" became the best tracking clue—in locking onto the target, Sun Hang's previously chaotic sense of direction instantly became clear, like the guiding arrows in a mission-based video game.
The young woman with the mysterious air left the old street and plunged into a run-down neighborhood.
Compared to the bustling morning old street, this neighborhood appeared much more desolate. One outdated building after another clustered within rusted security fences, the exterior walls of which were heavily peeling, revealing the mottled cement below. At lower points, walls were plastered with dense "spam ads," mainly concerning house rentals or private clinics focusing on male or female health.
Several buildings looked like dangerous structures, with concrete bodies riddled with cracks, rebars exposed, and a huge circle painted at the entrance in red paint with a conspicuous "demolition" character inside.
But for some reason, these dangerous buildings hadn't been demolished, even the red color of the "demolition" character was no longer vivid... with the passing of time, the paint's hue deepened, resembling coagulated blood stains.
Sun Hang followed the "scent" into one of the dangerous buildings, where most residents had already moved out, several apartments even had their doors removed, revealing the mess inside at a glance. But a few households seemed obviously occupied—the "fresh" household waste in trash bins at their doors was the best evidence.
Sun Hang was now very close to the target, the "scent" becoming very distinct—as if the young woman with the unusual aura was akin to a bowl of dumplings on a breakfast stall compared to the inconspicuous threats in the anomalous zone.
The distance between the two had narrowed to just one floor apart. Sun Hang could hear the woman's footsteps upstairs, quickening after a brief pause.
"Oh, has she noticed?" Sun Hang smacked his lips, deciding not to conceal his movements anymore; he drew his gun and strode upstairs briskly.
The layout of such a building was evident from the outside, with only one staircase for the whole building. The woman would either have to jump off or be cornered by Sun Hang in one of the rooms or on the rooftop.
She couldn't escape.