After ending the call, his phone buzzed, and an encrypted message popped up.
Rong Yichen calmly unlocked the screen and tapped the keypad with his fingertips.
【H】: V, you’re in the capital of Huaguo, right?
【V】: Yeah.
【H】: I’ve got a mission for you.
【V】: Yeah.
【H】: [Image]
【H】: Kill him.
【V】: Yeah.
【H】: …
【H】: Be careful. Stop making such a huge scene every time.
【V】: When have I ever been careless?
【H】: Fine. You’re the most careful person in the world.
【V】: Yeah.
Just then, a matte-black Audi rolled to a stop in front of Rong Yichen. Its tires made barely a sound as they passed over the pavement.
The passenger-side window lowered. The person in the driver’s seat turned her head slightly. Her short hair hung neatly in place, and sunglasses concealed most of her expression. Her voice was as cold as ice. “Get in.”
Rong Yichen opened the door and slid smoothly into the passenger seat. The seat belt clicked into place. He glanced at the impassive woman behind the wheel, his tone carrying the easy teasing of an old acquaintance. “Thanks, Eli.”
An Lan corrected him without changing expression, tapping the steering wheel lightly with one finger. “Don’t call me Eli. I’m An Lan now. Just call me Assistant An.”
Rong Yichen couldn’t help smiling. “You really did quit for good, huh?”
An Lan couldn’t be bothered to respond. She turned the wheel, steering around the traffic ahead, and asked in a flat voice, “Where to?”
Leaning back against the seat and watching the streets sweep past outside, Rong Yichen thought for a moment before answering, “Take me to Cloudscape.”
An Lan nodded and asked no more. The car merged smoothly into traffic.
When they reached the entrance to Cloudscape Residential Complex, Rong Yichen unfastened his seat belt and said with a smile, “I’ll come visit you and Sister Guan when I have time. I’ve got something to do today. Thanks for picking me up, An Lan~”
He was just turning to open the door when An Lan stopped him, her voice edged with impatience. “You’re ridiculous.” Then she added, “I’ll have a car sent over to you in a bit.”
Rong Yichen grinned shamelessly. “Oh, you really don’t have to. Just get me something inconspicuous.”
An Lan waved him off, unwilling to argue. “Get lost. I have to get back for a meeting.”
Standing before the access gate at Cloudscape Residential Complex, Rong Yichen lightly pressed his fingertip to the scanner. The metal gate slid open without a sound.
He entered the apartment and casually draped his jacket over the coat rack in the entryway. The crisp scent of cedar from An Lan’s car still lingered in the air.
He stopped in front of the full-length mirror and pressed a hand to his temple, deftly removing the black wig fitted snugly against his scalp. Silver, shoulder-length hair slipped down like moonlight, falling to his collarbones and making his already fair skin look even more luminous.
The face in the mirror was strikingly deceptive. His eyes were unmistakably catlike, their outer corners tilted slightly upward; his dark eyes seemed able to see straight through people. They should have given him a sly look, yet his full lower eyelids and soft jawline made him seem especially docile. The light-brown mole at the corner of his left eye appeared and disappeared as he lowered his gaze, lending his harmless appearance a faint, hard-to-detect allure.
He tugged at the corners of his mouth in the mirror, giving himself a smile devoid of warmth, then turned and headed for the study.
The study’s blackout curtains were tightly closed. Only a small lamp at the corner of the desk cast a cold white glow. Rong Yichen sat in a leather chair and rapidly tapped at the keyboard. The screen lit up, lines of code streaming across it. He opened the encrypted protocol, entered the key, and the target’s file unfolded before him: name, age, social connections, travel history—even a clear record of the iced Americano the target had ordered at a street-corner café three days earlier.
He tapped the trackpad, locking onto the target’s real-time location at an entertainment club in the west of the city.
He stood, pulled open the bookcase, and entered the hidden room behind it. After finding a box of blades that suited his needs, he slipped it into his pocket.
The docility in his catlike eyes vanished completely, replaced by a focus bordering on cold ruthlessness. His silver hair spilled over the edge of the desk, mingling with the screen’s cold light and outlining a figure with nothing of the word “docile” about him—sharp and dangerous.