A light, alternating between bright and dim, shone in her eyes, like a faint summons.

Consciousness began to return. She was still lying face down, but the coolness beneath her body was different from before. Had she been moved?

Mu Dai opened her eyes wearily.

She had indeed been moved. This wasn’t the basement but a brick house with a cement floor. Small air vents opened high on the wall. In the distance, she could see what appeared to be a signal tower, its light blinking on and off at regular intervals in the night.

Her mind was foggy. She tried to get up, but her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor. The repeated drugging and hunger had affected her bodily functions and reflexes. Mu Dai even wondered if she had become dumber than before.

She sat on the floor in a daze, then desperately tried to recall what had happened.

At that time, the Leopard had suddenly entered with some people who held her down and injected her with a drug. She had struggled desperately but eventually collapsed on the floor. Through the half-open door, she had glimpsed a pair of delicate little leather shoes worn by a young girl.

Was there a little girl here, too?

But she couldn’t think any further. As her heavy eyelids closed, she had desperately repeated to herself over and over: Don’t fall into a deep sleep, definitely don’t fall into a deep sleep.

What happened after that? Her consciousness had drifted. For a period, breathing was difficult, and then she seemed to hear Luo Ren’s voice.

She couldn’t remember anymore. All consciousness had ended with the sudden sound of gunshots.

Had Luo Xiaodao come? Had he tried to rescue her? He must have; otherwise, why would the Leopard move her without reason? What about the gunshots? Was Luo Ren injured?

Mu Dai’s eyelids twitched. She felt anxious and staggered to the door, pounding on it: “Hey! Is anyone there? Is anyone there?”

No one answered her, and she soon lost the strength to shout. Someone else might have stopped these futile attempts, but not her.

She sat down with her back against the wall. She clenched her right fist and counted silently in her mind. After resting for five seconds, she raised her hand and struck the door with her fist once.

When she first began martial arts training, Meihua Jiuniang had asked her: “Mu Dai, how can you open a door that others are unwilling to open for you?”

She had frowned and thought for a long time: “By saying nice things to them?”

Meihua Jiuniang had answered: “By continuously knocking.”

This approach was effective, especially noticeable in martial arts training. Even the most complex techniques could be executed smoothly after practicing hundreds of times.

She remembered asking at the time: “Master, what if continuous knocking still doesn’t open the door?”

Meihua Jiuniang had smiled: “You silly girl, if you keep knocking, you’ll eventually knock a hole in the door. Then it won’t matter whether someone opens it for you or not.”

That was true.

In the darkness, her face expressionless, she raised her arm to pound on the door every five seconds. The monotonous thudding, like the light on the signal tower, rose and fell, rose and fell.

After an unknown amount of time, the door finally opened.

The switch was flipped, and bright light flooded in. Mu Dai shielded her eyes with her hand. After a while, she looked up.

It was the Leopard, looking down at her from above.

Mu Dai didn’t want to stand up. She stared at the Leopard, turning her palm upward and extending her hand: “I want food and water.”

The Leopard regarded her with amusement. One of her subordinates entered from outside, bringing a chair for the Leopard. After she sat down, she gestured to the person, who soon returned and handed Mu Dai a bottle of mineral water and some slices of bread.

Mu Dai tried to twist off the bottle cap, but her arm lacked strength.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I moved you?”

Mu Dai ignored her, pressing the water bottle against the floor and trying to twist it with the strength of her arm. Her fingers and palms kept slipping, still unable to open it.

“Luo came to rescue you today. He even held you in his arms.”

Mu Dai kept her head down without a sound, bringing the bottle to her mouth and trying to twist the cap with her teeth.

“He was shot four times.”

At that moment, the bottle cap was successfully twisted off with her teeth. With a “pop,” it fell to the floor. Mu Dai tilted her head back and gulped down a large mouthful, her cheeks bulging as she looked at the ceiling. The Leopard noticed a glimmer of tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if he’s dead?”

Mu Dai looked at her and suddenly, with a “pfffft,” spat all the water in her mouth at the Leopard.

The Leopard hadn’t anticipated that Mu Dai hadn’t swallowed the water. Though she dodged quickly, water splashed everywhere, soaking half of her body. The subordinate, humiliated and angry, strode toward Mu Dai, raising a hand to slap her. The Leopard said, “Go out.”

Mu Dai giggled, her eyes fixed on the Leopard as she tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it directly into her mouth, chewing in large bites.

The Leopard said, “Little girl, this isn’t very smart of you. You should know what happens to those who oppose me.”

Mu Dai lowered her head to drink water. After finishing, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, completely unconcerned: “Anyway, whether I oppose you or not, the outcome is the same. So I might as well spit on you to make myself feel better.”

The Leopard wasn’t provoked: “Later, I’m going to see Luo. Do you have any message you want me to pass on?”

Mu Dai was raising the bottle to drink when she heard this. Her body froze, her hand stopping mid-motion. The water in the bottle, unable to resist inertia, surged toward her, then back again.

The Leopard smiled: “I forgot to tell you, he’s not dead. Killing him isn’t my goal. Tasha’s gun and bullets are specially made, with weak penetration. Shooting at close range won’t cause penetration, but injuries and bleeding are inevitable.”

Mu Dai’s voice trembled: “Tasha?”

Had she misheard? Was the Tasha the Leopard mentioned the same Tasha that Luo Ren had talked about?

Suddenly, an image flashed in her mind: those delicate little leather shoes she had seen before losing consciousness.

The Leopard reached out and clapped her hands, not too hard or too soft, three times: “Tap, tap, tap.”

From outside came the sound of footsteps, and a blonde little girl ran in, cheerfully calling: “Mommy.”

As if deliberately performing for Mu Dai, the Leopard asked her in a gentle voice: “What’s your name?”

“Tasha, Linda, Emma—whichever name Mommy likes.”

“Where are you from?”

“Anywhere as long as it’s not Australia.”

“Who is the person you love most in this world?”

“Mommy.”

“What would you do if someone bullied Mommy?”

“I would help Mommy kill them.”

The Leopard nodded with satisfaction: “Go out.”

Tasha happily ran out with pattering footsteps.

The Leopard turned to look at Mu Dai: “You should have seen the expression on Luo’s face when Tasha shot him.”

She leaned close to Mu Dai, lowering her voice, her warm breath on Mu Dai’s ear: “A brainwashed child can shoot her once-dependent daddy. What about you?”

“Do you think you can control it with your willpower? You love Luo only because of the dopamine secreted by your brain. If I destroy your central nervous system, you won’t even know what love is.”

Mu Dai gritted her teeth: “You want to use me against Luo Ren?”

“Little beauty, what else did you think I captured you for? Luo is already incapacitated. You’re a powerful weapon, but I’m still considering how to package you before sending you out…”

Finally, she asked: “Really, no message for me to take to Luo?”

Mu Dai didn’t speak. After a while, she reached for her neck, grabbed the necklace, yanked it off, and extended her arm to the Leopard.

“If Luo Xiaodao misses me, if he wants to talk to me, let him blow the whistle. I will hear it.”

The Leopard took it.

As she walked out of the room, Mu Dai heard the Leopard say with contempt: “Luo has a girlfriend who lives in a dream.”

The door locked. Mu Dai sat alone in the darkness, feeling her way to finish the last slice of bread and tilting her head back to drink the last of the water.

Then she stood up and looked outside through the small air vent.

The surroundings were quiet and open, with no landmark buildings or plants that could be used to determine her location. The night was pale, the air as thin as gauze. The only thing was that signal tower, persistently and faithfully blinking on and off.

Luo Ren’s dreams were a series of nightmares.

He experienced everything with complete consciousness: seeing Tasha’s cold face, completely unlike a child’s; watching Qing Mu abandon Mu Dai; hearing him make a phone call, shouting at the other end: “It must be a reliable private hospital, this can’t become a big incident!”

Then, he sank into dreams.

In the dream, torrential rain poured down. He knelt beside a dug-up grave, his hands firmly thrust into the soggy mud.

He said, “I’m sorry, I’ve failed you.”

In his ears seemed to echo Eurys’s voice, with a smile, saying: “Luo, count me in.”

Luo Ren’s tears fell, hot tears mixing with the cold rain, dripping into the soil.

There’s an ancient Chinese saying: no matter how much wine you pour at a grave, not a drop reaches the nine springs below. Now his regret and tears would never be seen by his brothers sleeping eternally underground.

So Tasha hadn’t died.

That life-and-death battle, the bullet that exploded into a skull, the gushing blood, the abruptly ended life—what was it all for?

He pulled the gun from behind his waist, loaded it, and put the barrel in his mouth, his finger on the trigger.

Suddenly, from far away, someone called him: “Luo Xiaodao.”

Was it Mu Dai? Yes, he suddenly came to his senses. Mu Dai, Mu Dai was still not safe.

Cold sweat broke out on Luo Ren’s forehead. His body convulsed, and he jolted awake.

A quiet, dim room. He lay on a bed, surrounded by various machines monitoring his vital signs. His upper body and abdomen were wrapped in thick bandages and gauze. The slightest movement caused severe pain in his wounds.

Fortunately, he had experience. This kind of pain wasn’t from a fatal wound.

Suddenly, there was a muffled sound outside, as if someone had fallen. Luo Ren’s heart tightened. As he struggled to get up and see, the door opened silently.

The hospital room was dark, with light from the corridor streaming in, presenting a black silhouette. If he wasn’t mistaken, this should be a nurse.

But…

The nurse reached up and removed something from the side of her face.

Luo Ren saw a blood-red eye, flickering like a flame.

Unhurriedly, she placed a finger to her lips and made a “shh” sound.

“I just let your good brother sleep for a while so I can talk to you.”

She closed the door and slowly walked over. When she reached the bed, she extended her hand, holding something.

Then her hand loosened, and a cold object with a broken chain fell onto his chest.

Without looking, he knew what it was.

His breathing quickened, moving his chest and abdomen. The wound seemed to reopen; he felt warm blood flowing from inside his body.

One of the machines monitoring his vital signs suddenly began beeping. The Leopard bent down and yanked out the power cord.

The room was quiet again. Moonlight poured in through the window as Luo Ren’s consciousness blurred again. He heard the Leopard’s voice in his ear:

—Luo, you’ve always opposed me. You’re so self-righteous, but you have a fatal weakness. You’ve made the same mistake more than once.

—Back then, it was just a joke. Why would I want to kill Tasha? Killing Tasha would give me a terrible enemy like you. I’m not a fool. But you were so impulsive, bringing everyone, charging into my home.

—You only saw the surface and committed irredeemable errors. Just like when you saw Old Lady Mei’s corpse and withdrew everyone, needlessly delivering your little beauty to me.

—Your brothers, nine lives. Can you sleep at night? When you close your eyes, do you see their faces?

—You are, in fact, a complete failure…

Qing Mu woke up.

His first reaction was to reach for the back of his neck.

He admitted that he had been somewhat lax in his night watch because he felt that, since the Leopard had allowed him to take Luo Ren away, she was temporarily not interested in taking Luo Ren’s life.

So, at that time, he had dozed off. In his drowsy state, he had suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck.

Had something happened? Qing Mu looked around in confusion, his gaze suddenly falling on the half-open door—he clearly remembered that the door had been closed, and no medical personnel had entered or exited during that time.

Qing Mu’s throat went dry. Instinctively, he rushed into the hospital room, flipped on the switch, and then breathed a long sigh of relief.

Thankfully, everything was normal. Luo Ren lay in bed, his eyes open, already awake.

Qing Mu walked over: “Luo, are you all right?”

“She said the final act has begun.”