It was Lin Xi's fifth day working at the repair shop, and she finally waited for the right opportunity.
That day was Saturday, and the nightlife in the old district was a bit livelier than usual. The mahjong parlor was filled with the sounds of people talking and playing. Liu Dayong had been at the table since 3 PM and played until late at night. He seemed to be on a winning streak; even from across the alley, Lin Xi could hear his hoarse and self-satisfied laughter whenever he won a round.
At eleven in the evening, Old Zhou left early. His daughter, Xiao Min, called to say she was feeling unwell, and Old Zhou hurriedly packed up his things. Before leaving, he reminded Lin Xi to go home and rest early.
"Don't overexert yourself either. You've only been here a few days, so take it slow and get used to it," Old Zhou said as he climbed onto his electric bike and looked back at her. "By the way, don't take the alley behind the shop tonight. The streetlights have been broken for several days. It's pitch dark and unsafe."
"Got it."
After Old Zhou left, Lin Xi did not immediately leave the repair shop. She spent ten minutes putting the tools back in order, wiped the oil off her hands, then turned off the shop lights and pulled down the roller shutter.
She didn't take the main road but turned into the small alley behind the shop.
Old Zhou was right—the streetlights on this path were indeed broken. The entire alley had only one dim yellow streetlamp at the end that was still lit. The light was absorbed by the damp walls, casting a small, blurry patch of illumination on the ground. The buildings on both sides cast heavy shadows, and a cold, musty smell permeated the alley.
This was exactly what she wanted.
Lin Xi did not go home, but stopped at the corner of the alley. She leaned against the wall, her body completely blending into the shadows. She wore a dark gray hoodie, with the hood pulled low, covering most of her face. From the outside, it looked like there was nothing there—just a wall, a patch of shadow, and a pair of eyes glinting in the dark.
She waited for two hours.
At one o'clock in the morning, the noise from the mahjong parlor began to fade. The games ended, and a few gamblers walked out arm in arm, saying their goodbyes at the alley entrance. Lin Xi heard Liu Dayong's voice—he was complaining to someone about losing the last hand unfairly, his voice slurred with alcohol and tinged with the dissatisfaction of a gambler.
"I'll come again next time, next time I'll win it back."
Footsteps gradually approached. Liu Dayong walked into the alley alone.
His steps were heavy, his leather shoes creating a dull echo on the damp concrete floor. He was still mumbling to himself, occasionally burping from the alcohol, his whole body exuding the mixed smell of cheap liquor and tobacco.
Lin Xi watched him approach from the shadows.
Thirty meters. Twenty meters. Ten meters.
When Liu Dayong passed the corner of the alley, Lin Xi moved.
She did not appear from the front but slid out from the side, like a snake emerging from the darkness. Her right hand accurately grasped the back of Liu Dayong's neck, her thumb pressing on the carotid artery, the other four fingers gripping the muscles on both sides of the cervical spine. This was the first control technique she had learned in the organization—requiring little strength, yet capable of completely rendering a person incapable of resistance.
Liu Dayong's body stiffened instantly. His mouth opened to shout, but Lin Xi's left palm had already pressed against his Adam's apple, lightly, silencing the sound in his throat.
"Don't make a sound." Lin Xi's voice was low, like it came from beneath the ground. "Make a sound, and you die."
In this moment, Liu Dayong sobered from the alcohol completely. His body began to tremble, his pupils contracting sharply in the dark. He could feel the hand on the back of his neck—cold, precise, and full of power. That was not the hand of an ordinary person, that was the hand of someone who had killed.
Lin Xi dragged him deeper into the alley.
There was a recessed doorway, the entrance to a building's fire escape, locked all year round, forming a naturally concealed space. She pushed Liu Dayong into the doorway, released her grip, and took two steps back.
Liu Dayong sat slumped on the ground, leaning against the rusty iron door, panting heavily. He raised his head and tried to see the face of the man in front of him, but only a vague outline could be seen in the darkness - neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, wearing a dark hoodie with a hat covering his face.
"You... Who are you? Liu Dayong's voice was trembling, "Want money?" I have money, in my pocket, I will give you ..."
"I don't want your money."
Lin Xi's voice was emotionless. She squatted down and looked at Liu Dayong at eye level. The shadows under the brim of her hat obscured most of her face, revealing only a small section of her pale chin and a pair of eyes that did not have any temperature.
"I want you to answer a few questions."
"What... What is the problem? "
"Three years ago, at Pier 7 of Binhai Port, there was a batch of 'medical equipment' transferred. You let the wind blow on the periphery. "
Liu Dayong's body shook suddenly. A glimmer of extreme fear flashed in his eyes - not the fear of the person in front of him, but the fear of that name, that thing.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about..."
"You know."
Lin Xi took out something from his pocket. In the faint light outside the door opening, Liu Dayong saw clearly what it was - a folding knife, and the blade flashed a cold light in the darkness.
"That night three years ago," Lin Xi's voice was still calm, as if narrating something that had nothing to do with him, "You saw a person sneaking into the dock." A woman. It took you thirty seconds to notify your upline. Thirty seconds later, the lights came on and the guns rang out. "
She pressed the blade against Liu Dayong's neck with just the right amount of force - it wouldn't cut through the skin, but it was enough to make him feel the coldness and sharpness of the metal.
"The woman fell into the sea."
Liu Dayong's teeth began to chatter, making a rattling sound. Tears mixed with fear welled up in his eyes, streaking down his dirty face in two lines.
"It's not my fault... I didn't know... they said they were going to eliminate traitors... I'm just a runner... I didn't know anyone would die..."
"Who told you she was a traitor?"
"Up... upline... Scar Liu..."
"Where did Scar Liu get the information?"
"I don't know! I really don't know!" Liu Dayong's voice nearly broke into sobs, "I'm just on the periphery. I do whatever they tell me. I know nothing else..."
Lin Xi looked into his eyes. Beneath the tears of fear, she saw something else—hesitation, evasion, concealment. He was lying. Not entirely, but hiding part of the truth.
Her knife tip gently lifted, cutting a shallow line across Liu Dayong's neck. Blood oozed out, sliding down the blade.
"One last question. Who is your current upline? Are you still working for 'Ouroboros'?"
Liu Dayong's pupils contracted again. Those two words—'Ouroboros'—pierced the depths of his deepest fear.
"I... I quit a long time ago... after that incident three years ago, I quit..."
"You're lying."
Lin Xi applied a slight force with her fingers, the blade sank a little deeper. Liu Dayong felt warm blood trickle down his neck into his collar, letting out a suppressed whimper.
"I'll tell! I'll tell!" His voice almost shattered, "Scar Liu is still my upline! He pays me every month to watch over the old district, and report any unusual activity! Especially... especially concerning that woman..."
"That woman?"
"Codename Jingzhe. The organization said she was dead, but Scar Liu said... said she might still be alive. He ordered us to keep watch, report any suspicious woman who appears."
Lin Xi remained silent.
Three seconds. Five seconds. Ten seconds.
In those ten seconds, she heard everything she wanted to hear.
Liu Dayong was still working for 'Ouroboros'. Scar Liu was still his upline. The 'Ouroboros' network in Binhai City was still operational. And—the people of 'Old Dad' were looking for her. They were uncertain whether she was truly dead, so they had been keeping watch.
This meant her caution was justified. Changing faces, changing identities, hiding in the slums—every step was necessary.
"Can... can I go now?" Liu Dayong's voice pulled her back to reality.
Lin Xi looked at him. In the darkness, there was no hatred in her eyes, no anger, only a cold, almost cruel calm.
"Do you know what happened to that woman later?"
Liu Dayong shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head again, confused like a mouse playing with a cat.
"I... I heard she died... fell into the sea, in such cold water, with a gunshot wound on her back... there's no way she could have survived..."
"What if she's still alive?"
Liu Dayong froze. He stared at the person whose face was hidden in the shadows; some terrifying association began to form in his mind. His mouth opened and closed, and a sound like a strangled throat came out of him.
"You... you are..."
"I'm here to tell you something."
Lin Xi stood up, looking down at Liu Dayong slumped on the ground. Her figure stretched long in the darkness, like a silent judge.
"She didn't die."
Those three words hit Liu Dayong's heart like three bullets, one after the other. His face instantly lost all color, turning as white as a sheet of paper. His lips trembled, trying to say something, but only a few broken syllables came out.
"Impossible... impossible..."
Lin Xi put away the folding knife. She wouldn't kill him here—not now, not in this place. Tonight was just a test, a confirmation, a beginning. She wanted to see Liu Dayong's reaction, to confirm whether he was still connected to the organization, to confirm if he still remembered that night three years ago.
Now she had her answer.
"Tell Scar," Lin Xi's voice was like winter wind, cold to the bone, "Jingzhe is watching you."
She turned and walked into the darkness.
Behind her came suppressed sobs and rapid breathing from Liu Dayong. He didn't follow, he didn't even stand up. He just slumped there in the doorway, like a pile of flesh with its skeleton taken away.
Lin Xi did not look back. She walked about fifty meters down the alley, turned into another side street, and then stopped.
She leaned against the wall, looking up at the small patch of sky framed by the surrounding buildings. The night sky of Binhai City showed no stars, only clouds dyed dark orange by the city lights, heavy and oppressive.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Not because of fear, not because of nervousness—but because she had just confirmed something.
Everything that happened three years ago was not an accident. "Old Dad" had meticulously planned that ambush. From the moment she received the mission, she was destined to be eliminated. Liu Dayong, Scar Liu, A-Gui—they were all pieces in this plan.
And now, she had come back.
Lin Xi took a deep breath, clenched her trembling hands into fists, and then released them. She repeated this three times. By the fourth time, her hands were steady as rock.
She pulled out her phone from her pocket—a senior phone that wasn't registered under her real name, which could only make calls and send texts. She dialed a number. After three rings, someone picked up.
"It's me," she said.
There was a two-second silence on the other end, then Zongpa's hoarse voice: "You're still alive."
"You sound disappointed."
"I just didn't expect you to move so quickly. How many days?"
"Five days."
"Have you made a move already?"
"Just a probe." Lin Xi lowered her voice. "I confirmed one thing—they're looking for me. They're not sure if I'm really dead."
Zongpa laughed on the other end, a laugh filled with a certain complex emotion. "Of course they're not sure. Anyone surviving that situation would be unbelievable. I've seen your blood report—that substance, I investigated for three months, no records in any literature. What exactly are you?"
"Just a person," Lin Xi said, "a person who wants revenge."
"Alright then. So what's your plan?"
"One by one. Start from the bottom and dig upward. Until you reach the root."
"You have to be careful." Songpa's voice suddenly became serious. "If they're still looking for you, it means they are on guard. You've changed your face, but your fighting style, your behavior patterns—these can't be changed. If you make it too obvious, they will recognize you."
"I know."
"And one more thing." Songpa hesitated. "Your body—the concentration of that substance is increasing. I don't know what it means, but you should come back and check regularly."
"We'll talk about that later."
Lin Xi hung up the phone.
She stood in the alley, letting the night wind dry the cold sweat in her palms. From the distance, the port sounded its whistle, deep and long, like some ancient warning.
She turned and walked towards her rented apartment. Her footsteps were light, almost silent, like a ghost moving through the night.
When she passed the alley where Liu Dayong had been, the doorway was already empty. Liu Dayong was gone, leaving only a small dark stain on the ground—blood or urine, she didn't care.
What mattered was that he was gone. He would go to Scar Liu. He would tell them what happened tonight. He would say—
"Jingzhe is still alive."
Exactly what she wanted.
She didn't need to hide her existence. She needed fear to spread through the "Ouroboros" network. She needed everyone who participated in the ambush three years ago to know—she was back. She was watching them. She would find them one by one.
Make them afraid. Make them suspicious. Make them betray each other.
Then, at the most unexpected moment, she would strike.
By the time Lin Xi returned to her rented apartment, it was nearly three in the morning. She quietly climbed the stairs, careful not to disturb Old Lady Wang. The door lock was the one she had changed herself, and it opened silently in three seconds.
She walked into the room and closed the door, without turning on the light.
The photos on the wall stared at her in the darkness. Thirteen faces, thirteen people.
Lin Xi walked to the wall, reached out, and touched Liu Dayong's photo. Her fingertips lingered on his face for a second, then moved away.
"You are the first," she said softly, "but not the last."
She took two steps back, staring at that wall. In her mind, an even larger network was unfolding—Liu Dayong, Scarred Liu, the Messenger, Ah Gui—"Old Dad." Each name was a node, each line a debt.
She would reclaim them, one by one, in her own way.
Lin Xi lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.
The seawater from three years ago still surged deep in her memory. Cold, dark, suffocating. But now, those memories were no longer pain—they were fuel.
Outside the window, the skyline of Binhai City began to lighten. A new day was about to begin.
When the sun rises, she would become Lin Xi again—a part-time girl at a repair shop, a migrant living in the slums, an ordinary woman not worth anyone's second glance.
But when the next night falls, when the streetlights of the old city glow again—
She would be someone else.
A ghost returned from the deep sea.
A avenger named Jingzhe.