By day, she was Lin Yue—a quiet, ordinary office worker buried under stacks of documents, her pale fingers dancing across the keyboard with mechanical precision. Her co-workers gossiped about promotions, complained about overtime, and shared weekend plans. Lin Yue only smiled faintly, her presence blending into the background like a shadow that no one noticed.
But at night… the mask came off.
The fluorescent office lights were replaced by the cold gleam of steel. In the darkness, she became something else entirely—the most feared assassin under the organization's command. Every movement was swift, silent, merciless. No one who saw her face under the moonlight lived to tell the tale.
A double life. One drenched in ink, the other in blood.
It was supposed to be balance, but instead it was suffocation. The longer she lived like this, the more she felt her soul fracture.
And at the center of her world was Shen Luohan.
Her boss. Her secret love. The man whose rare smile could make her chest flutter, whose calm voice could steady her restless nights. By day, he was the dignified executive admired by the whole company. By night, he was the cold handler of assassins—the one who had first dragged her into the abyss years ago.
Her heart was torn between fear and longing, love and despair.
That night, after another mission where blood clung stubbornly to her hands, Lin Yue finally stood before him.
"I want out," she whispered, her voice trembling yet determined. Her eyes searched his, desperate to find a trace of warmth. "Luohan… I don't want this life anymore. Can't we just… live normally? Just you and me?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them. His gaze softened, and for the first time, Lin Yue thought she saw hope.
He lifted his hand as though to caress her cheek.
Then the dagger pierced her chest.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Warm blood spilled down her lips as she stared at him, her body trembling.
"…Why?" The word was barely a breath.
Shen Luohan's eyes were calm, almost tender. "Because you were never meant to leave. Assassins don't retire, Yue. You should know that better than anyone."
Her knees buckled, her vision blurring. The warmth she had clung to all these years vanished, leaving only icy despair. The man she loved, the man she trusted, had been her greatest executioner all along.
As her consciousness faded, the last thing she saw was his face, distant and cold, as though her life meant nothing.
And then—darkness