After collecting his wage for the day, the boy walked out through the gate and stopped beneath a street lamp, rummaging through his shoulder bag as if searching for something.
Suddenly, someone stepped over to stand beside him and asked,
"What are you looking for?"
The boy looked up, shook his head, then lowered his gaze again. The man didn't probe further and said,
"Alright then. I'm heading back to the hotel."
As if remembering something, he added,
"Remember to take your medicine."
The boy nodded perfunctorily without looking up. Seeing that he wasn't taking it seriously, the man grew visibly annoyed and walked away in a huff.
The boy paid no attention to the man's reaction. Instead, he pulled a piece of chocolate from his bag, his expression brightening with quiet delight, before heading toward the nearby bus stop.
This seemingly casual interaction did not escape the notice of onlookers, whether openly watching or secretly observing. However, no one found anything suspicious and soon turned their attention elsewhere. One by one, people left the filming site, until only two security guards remained.
Not far away, four men emerged silently from the darkness, as if nothing had happened, and dispersed in different directions.
"Let's not eat fish for dinner today."
"Okay."
The man slipped his phone into his pocket and began humming softly as he walked away.
…
"So, when will you be free?"
The man leaned lazily against the sofa, one arm draped over the backrest while the other swirled a wine glass. His light brown eyes were fixed on the side profile of the girl beside him.
"Mom wanted to call you yesterday, asking why you're not coming back for her birthday this year. She was pretty upset. Apparently, having her own child around doesn't matter—only her goddaughter does."
"It's not safe yet," she replied calmly. "I'll call her once I get the chance."
Hearing her emotionless tone, Yan Yue burst out laughing. This girl was willing to master every emotion she hadn't been born with for her missions, yet she stubbornly refused to fake them at other times—especially when speaking with him.
Shen Ziyi propped her chin on her hands and asked blankly,
"What?"
Yan Yue's smile slowly faded. He sighed.
"Tang Tang."
"Huh?"
She looked confused. Why use that nickname?
"How are you?" he asked softly.
"I can talk now," she replied.
"I can hear that," Yan Yue said. His expression turned serious. "Will there be danger this time? I don't want to sign another emergency proxy consent again."
He still woke up from nightmares in the middle of the night. He would never forget that bloody scene—the moment he thought he had lost her.
This time, Shen Ziyi didn't answer immediately. After a long pause, she said,
"Technically, I'm not directly involved in the main mission due to my injuries. But I can't guarantee I won't get hurt during the process. I'll try not to."
"Is that a promise?"
"If calling it a promise makes you feel better, then so be it."
In their line of work, getting hurt was commonplace. Every step they took was like walking along the edge of a knife.
Yan Yue understood this all too well. He had watched her return time and time again with fresh bandages covering different parts of her body. Still, as her best friend, her brother, her family—his heart ached every single time.
She was only twenty-two, for heaven's sake. Yet she carried responsibilities that even his grown older brother trembled under.
"I know you won't answer me even if I beg," Yan Yue said quietly. "So I won't ask about your location or your mission. But wherever you are, please—be safe." His grip tightened around the glass.
Shen Ziyi stared at his tightly restrained expression and felt a familiar irritation rise. She hated seeing him like this.
"Okay," she said. "But I don't want to talk about this anymore."
Yan Yue immediately adjusted his expression. He knew she despised this topic.
"Alright," he said, forcing cheer back into his voice. "Then guess what role I'm playing next."
Shen Ziyi leaned back against the table, pulled a bottle of water from beneath the bed, and replied casually,
"A villain."
Yan Yue froze
"How did you know? Even the media doesn't know yet!"
She rolled her eyes.
"If it weren't a villain role, you wouldn't be this excited."
Other actors dreamed of being the protagonist, but this abnormal guy only wanted to play villains.
Yan Yue's smile brightened even more. Indeed, only his best friend understood him this well—no one else had guessed correctly!
He happily announced,
"You've heard of the movie The Line, right? I'm playing the villainous mastermind. Director Tang told me not to announce it until filming starts, so the media still has no idea."
He didn't notice the brief stillness on the other end when he mentioned the movie's name and continued,
"I'll be heading to a small town called Qingzhou, in X Province. I read some articles—apparently resources and conditions there are quite poor, but the scenery is beautiful."
Yan Yue had grown up abroad and didn't return until he was seventeen. After coming back, he was buried in studies and work, leaving little time to travel. Only after starting his acting career did he begin exploring different parts of the country. Even so, he firmly believed he had chosen the perfect profession for himself.
Shen Ziyi understood his thought process all too well. Just from his smug expression, she could tell exactly what was going through his mind. That was why she always said that even five-year-old Little Treasure had more shame than him—a grown man.
She decided not to tell him anything for now. Instead, she wanted to see whether he would recognize her when he arrived here later, completely ignoring the fact that this behavior was just as childish as his.
After finishing their chat and dinner, Shen Ziyi slowly changed clothes in front of the small mirror hanging on the wall.
The reflection showed the face everyone here knew—
Lin Zhi, twenty years old, mute, orphan boy, came from nearby village.