Su Ran stared at the bowl of clear noodle soup in front of her.
Steam rose with the warm scent of wheat, brushing against her face. Her fingers rested lightly on her chopsticks, but she did not move for a long time.
Bai Jingshan’s men were stationed at the street corner.
The moment they showed themselves, they would be forced into a car and taken back to the Bai family.
Right now, they were prey trapped in a hunting ground.
Their only way out was the money transfer scheduled for nine o’clock tomorrow morning, when the securities company opened.
“We can’t go back to the apartment.”
Fu Yechuan’s voice was low, blending into the hum of the fast-food restaurant’s air conditioner.
“Bai Weiwei knows we’ve already moved the goods. She won’t let it go.”
Su Ran lifted her eyes to look at him.
The bruises on his face appeared darker under the dim yellow light.
His entire body seemed weighed down with exhaustion, yet his eyes were frighteningly bright.
“If she can’t freeze the accounts, she’ll freeze the people.”
Su Ran spoke, her voice dry and hoarse.
Fu Yechuan nodded, gathering the three phones spread across the table and slipping them into his trench coat pocket.
He wasn’t wearing his usual suit today, instead dressed in a worn, faded trench coat with frayed edges at the collar.
On him, it somehow made him look even more rugged.
“Where are we going now?” Su Ran asked.
Her mind quickly ran through every safe house in South City, each one falling within the Bai family’s network of influence.
“The abandoned freight station in the south of the city.”
Fu Yechuan’s tone was firm.
“The demolition plan hasn’t been approved yet. No one goes there at night.”
“Alright.”
Su Ran didn’t ask further.
Fu Yechuan had spent twenty years in South City. He knew the terrain so well he could probably navigate it blindfolded.
They paid and slipped out through the back door of the fast-food restaurant.
The narrow alley behind it was piled with kitchen waste, the sour stench rushing straight into their noses.
Covering her mouth and nose, Su Ran followed behind him.
Fu Yechuan walked ahead, his steps fast and steady, avoiding puddles without splashing a single drop.
At the end of the alley was a service road with sparse traffic.
He raised a hand and hailed a taxi.
Before getting in, he scanned the surroundings, making sure no cars bearing Bai family plates were following them, then opened the rear door.
After the taxi started moving, Su Ran leaned against the window, watching the streets flash by.
The daytime bustle of South City had been swallowed by the night.
Only scattered streetlights remained lit, and occasionally a late-night delivery rider would zip past the window.
A sharp pain twisted in her stomach.
Not from hunger. From tension wound too tight.
“How many people did Bai Jingshan bring?” Su Ran suddenly asked.
Fu Yechuan leaned back against the seat with his eyes closed, his voice soft.
“I saw two downstairs. Including him, at least three. But the way he does things, he never leaves gaps. There will only be more.”
“And the cleanup team,” Su Ran added.
“Shen Zhixing mentioned it. Your distant cousin has a team that handles things that can’t see the light.”
Fu Yechuan gave a quiet hum without opening his eyes.
“When you were in the apartment, how did you not notice they had already surrounded it?”
Su Ran recalled the moment she received the warning message, rushing downstairs and dragging him away, her fingertips still remembering the cold sweat.
“I was checking the loopholes in the contract Shen Zhixing sent.”
Fu Yechuan opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the rearview mirror.
“For Bai Weiwei to make such a basic mistake, it means she’s already losing her composure.”
Su Ran relaxed her grip slightly on the cold door handle.
The more Bai Weiwei lost control, the better their chances.
The taxi stopped at a fork on the outskirts of southern South City.
The entire area was awaiting demolition. Most of the streetlights were broken, and the shops along the street were shuttered, red demolition marks sprayed across them.
After paying the fare, Fu Yechuan led Su Ran into an unlit alley.
Deep inside stood several abandoned factory buildings, looming in the darkness like crouching beasts.
“Is this place safe?” Su Ran asked.
Her voice echoed faintly in the empty alley.
“No one comes here looking for trouble,” Fu Yechuan replied.
They entered the innermost abandoned warehouse.
A hole half the width of a person had broken through the roof, allowing moonlight to spill down, laying a pale silver patch across the ground.
The air was filled with dust and rust, mixed with the faint decay of old wood.
“Find a place to sit.”
Su Ran looked around. The warehouse was filled with broken crates and rusted racks. There wasn’t a clean spot in sight.
In the end, she sat on a neatly stacked pile of wooden planks.
Fu Yechuan moved to a nearby corner and leaned against the wall as he sat.
“Hungry?” he suddenly asked.
Only then did Su Ran realize she hadn’t eaten anything since two slices of bread in the morning.
Her stomach ached with emptiness, yet she had no appetite at all.
“No.” She shook her head.
Fu Yechuan said nothing more. He took out the three phones and connected them to a power bank.
The glow of the screens lit up the darkness, outlining his profile sharply.
Time passed slowly. The warehouse was silent except for the sound of their breathing.
Leaning against the planks, Su Ran felt the cold seep through her back, creeping into her clothes.
She thought of what Fu Yechuan had said in the fast-food restaurant.
Follow the agreement exactly as written.
Once the relationship ended, neither would owe the other anything.
Could she really do that?
She looked toward him.
He had his eyes closed, his head resting against the wall, the bruises on his face stark under the moonlight.
His breathing was steady, as if he were resting.
“Fu Yechuan,” she called softly.
He didn’t move.
“Fu Yechuan.”
She called again. He opened his eyes, his gaze landing precisely on her.
“Do you really want me to leave?” she asked.
His eyes were unnervingly bright in the darkness.
“The agreement was written by you. Black and white.”
Su Ran gripped the edge of the plank, a splinter piercing her fingertip, yet she felt no pain.
Black and white.
He had always been like this, rational to the point of leaving no room for emotion.
“I saved you twice,” she said.
The corner of Fu Yechuan’s mouth twitched slightly.
“So you want extra compensation?”
“That’s not what I want.”
Su Ran paused. What did she want?
A life where she didn’t have to hide. A future no longer dictated by the original plot. Justice for Bai Weiwei.
And for Fu Yechuan to be alright.
None of that aligned with “ending the relationship.”
“I want a choice,” she said inwardly.
“A choice that doesn’t follow the script of the book.”
Fu Yechuan looked at her without speaking.
Silence returned to the warehouse. Wind whistled through the broken window.
A chill crept into Su Ran’s spine.
She didn’t belong to this world in the first place.
After struggling so long to change the plot, it seemed that in the end, she might still be left alone.
“Get some sleep,” Fu Yechuan suddenly said.
“We have a tough fight tomorrow.”
Su Ran didn’t move. She stared at him for a long time before finally closing her eyes.
She couldn’t fall asleep.
Her mind replayed Bai Weiwei’s arrogant face, Shen Zhixing’s words about the promise she still owed him, and Fu Yechuan’s eyes.
When he had looked at her just now, there was no suspicion, no ruthlessness, only an exhaustion that couldn’t be dissolved.
It was deep into the night before she drifted into a restless sleep.
Her dreams were chaotic.
She dreamed she had returned to her original world, sitting at her desk staring at K-line charts, her fingers hovering over the keyboard but unable to press a key.
A massive shadow loomed behind her. She tried to run, but couldn’t move.
“You’re awake?”
Su Ran snapped her eyes open.
Fu Yechuan was sitting beside her on the wooden planks.
Dawn had broken, the warehouse dimly lit, just enough to clearly see the bruises on his face.
“What time is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Six.”
He handed her a bottle of mineral water.
“Drink some.”
Su Ran took it, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down half the bottle.
The cold water slid down her throat, clearing her foggy mind.
“You didn’t sleep all night?” she asked, noticing the dark circles under his eyes were worse than yesterday.
“I circled the area three times and set up a few makeshift alarms with cans.”
Fu Yechuan said, his gaze resting on her face for a moment.
“The Bai family won’t let us off so easily.”
He paused. “You were sweating all night.”
Su Ran froze for a second, not expecting him to notice something like that.
“I’m fine.”
She shook her head and didn’t explain further.
“It’s time to go.”
Fu Yechuan stood, brushing dust off his pants.
“The bank opens at nine. We’ll get there early.”
They walked out of the warehouse.
The morning air carried a faint damp, earthy scent, cool and refreshing against their faces.
The streets were mostly empty, with only sanitation workers slowly pedaling past on tricycles.
Fu Yechuan stepped to the roadside and hailed a taxi.
He didn’t open the door for Su Ran.
“You go to the China Merchants Bank in the East District. Transfer the money from your account to the offshore anonymous account.”
“I’ll take the other two accounts to the ICBC in West City.”
“Alone?” Su Ran frowned.
“We split up. Smaller targets.”
Fu Yechuan replied. “If the Bai family is waiting at the banks, appearing together guarantees we’ll be blocked.”
Su Ran didn’t argue.
He was right.
“If something happens—”
“Send me the signal immediately after the transfer,” Fu Yechuan interrupted.
“I’ll wait at the café across from the ICBC in West City.”
He handed her a slip of paper with the bank address and three coded signals only the two of them understood.
“Be careful.”
Su Ran held the note, her fingers brushing over his handwriting.
Fu Yechuan nodded, got into the taxi, and closed the door.
The car slowly drove off, disappearing around the corner.
Su Ran stood there, a tight heaviness in her chest.
This was their first time splitting up since they started working together.
And her first time facing the Bai family alone. Her fingers tightened, crumpling the note.
She took out her phone and called a ride to the East District.
Today in South City—either Bai Weiwei dies, or they do.