Luo Ren knew he couldn’t continue this fight.

That was Mu Dai.

His weapon was a dagger, incomparably sharp, able to draw blood with the lightest touch on skin. Her wounds were still bleeding. He couldn’t bring himself to use a knife against her.

What else then?

He excelled at close combat, each move heavy-handed. In their previous exchanges, if Mu Dai hadn’t dodged quickly and cleverly enough, she could have been maimed—now, where could he direct his fists? She was so slender, or as Qingmu would say, so thin a breeze could blow her over.

Luo Ren wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. His hand loosened, and the dagger fell to the ground.

Unlike him, all of Mu Dai’s thoughts and consciousness seemed guided by that command, “Kill him.” Her gaze was cold, unfocused, as if she couldn’t feel the pain of her wounds.

She stared at him, gripped the snake-shaped knife tightly, and pounced like an agile ape.

Luo Ren was hard-pressed on all sides, constrained everywhere, enduring her punches and kicks, as well as her blade. The punches and kicks were manageable—Mu Dai wasn’t very strong—but a blade has no eyes; once it enters flesh, it draws blood. In the most dangerous moment, a heavy punch of his landed on her ribs, but he deliberately redirected it—beneath the ribs lay the most vital organs. What if the ribs broke and pierced internal organs? The delicate, fragile girl couldn’t withstand that.

She didn’t care. Using the momentum from his diverted blow, she circled and slashed his back, cutting diagonally from the left shoulder across his entire back.

Luo Ren’s vision blurred with pain. Hazily, he saw Mu Dai stepping on the chain link, moving like someone traversing walls and eaves, going straight up, then flipping upside down, sharply bending her knees and ramming directly into him.

This collision nearly turned heaven and earth upside down. Her knees struck his chest cavity. Luo Ren’s blood and qi churned within, almost pinned to the ground by her. Through the blur, he saw her raise the snake-shaped knife high, slashing down toward his chest.

Luo Ren’s consciousness drifted. His gaze passed over her shoulder to the height above.

There had been no one there before, but now, he suddenly saw the dark muzzle of a gun.

In a flash of insight, Luo Ren suddenly realized.

The leopard wanted to kill Mu Dai.

Her torment of him would continue for a long time, but Mu Dai was just a burden to her. Now that they had reached this pre-designed step, her goal of having them kill each other had been achieved. She had enjoyed the climax of the game, all the surprises had been revealed, and Mu Dai was no longer useful.

Luo Ren’s pupils suddenly contracted. Drawing strength from who knows where, he embraced Mu Dai and rolled over, shielding her with his body. The cold blade pierced his left chest. Simultaneously, with a “tack” sound, a bullet entered below the back of his neck, passing through, its momentum undiminished, drilling into the ground.

For a second or two, his consciousness went completely blank, as if he had lost the entire world.

Then, sounds, smells, and sensations gradually returned. The smell of blood surrounded him like surging waves. From above came the rapid footsteps descending. Had Leopard finally appeared?

He looked only at Mu Dai beneath him, his voice hoarse, with a smile.

He said: “Mu Dai, you see, you want so badly to kill me, but I could never bear for you to die.”

Then he asked her: “Little Pouch, do you recognize me?”

Mu Dai shoved him roughly to the side.

Luo Ren fell to the ground, fresh blood flowing like a hot stream from his wounds. He tried to stop it with his hand. His vision gradually filled with a bloody mist. Through the blur, he saw Mu Dai stand up.

A well-trained disciple of Meihua Jiuniang, her movements agile, beyond reproach.

Mu Dai approached with her knife raised. From a distance, Leopard angrily shouted, “Stop first.”

So she stopped, standing motionless.

His girl, just like his little daughter, now only listened to Leopard’s commands.

Luo Ren laughed and coughed, blood foam spilling from his mouth. Under his fingertips, pressing on the wound was a very fine chain.

It was the whistle he had given to Mu Dai, which Leopard had returned. Now soaked in blood, the white pearl was wrapped in a bloody garment.

Luo Ren gripped the whistle, slowly bringing it to his lips as consciousness poured away like flowing water.

That night, what Leopard said about him wasn’t wrong. He had never lost before, yet had fallen at her hands. Perhaps he hadn’t even realized that, deep down, he feared Leopard—she had taken away the most cherished things in his life, one by one, time and again.

Luo Ren’s other hand, hanging at his side, trembled slightly and slowly gripped the fallen dagger beside him.

The leopard was walking toward them. She wouldn’t miss his final moments. She would personally examine this beast whose hunting fangs had been removed.

This was his last chance to save Mu Dai.

Luo Ren smiled, blood spreading behind him. Mu Dai’s silhouette grew increasingly blurry. He seemed to return to that dream he often had in the Philippines—his girl, cutting through thorns and brambles to reach him, then suddenly startling from his embrace, walking farther and farther away.

In the end, he hadn’t been able to keep anyone.

—Luo Xiaodao, if you miss me, blow the whistle.

What should he blow?

—”I’ll play something nice for you.”

—”Something unique in the world. Qingmu and Eurus wanted to learn it, but they could never master it.”

—”I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll teach sons but not daughters, teach my children but not their spouses. If you want to know, ask your son in the future.”

A fine melody, like a wave line trembling in the blood-scented air, like the thinnest thread of hope, one note with three turns.

Quiet, peaceful, threading together every scene of the two of them, going back to the very beginning, the moment they confirmed their relationship.

—”It’s past midnight. Let’s start from today, shall we?”

High above, the night outside the window seemed to dissolve. Dawn was approaching.

Beginning at midnight, ending at dawn.

Little Pouch, from now on, there will be no one left in this world to blow the whistle for you.

…

Leopard opened the lock.

She had heard the whistle sound. While unlocking, her hand hesitated slightly.

Blowing the whistle always seemed like an untouchable prophecy.

She had tested Mu Dai with the whistle before. No matter how she blew it, short or long, Mu Dai had no reaction.

Luo Ren’s whistle sound, to her ears, was no different. Her suspicious gaze swept across Mu Dai’s face. She still stood there, her eyes unfocused, the snake-shaped knife in her hand gleaming coldly.

Very good.

Leopard unlocked the door and entered, circling Luo Ren slowly, once, then again.

Then, her face suddenly twisted into a ferocious smile. She kicked away the dagger in his hand, then bent down, slowly approaching his ear.

Luo Ren’s chest heaved violently, his body beginning to convulse occasionally.

Leopard spoke to him.

“Luo, we’re both clever people, we all keep backup plans for ourselves. Is this knife your backup plan? Wanting to take me down with you in one last struggle?”

“Do you know what my backup plan is?”

“You blocked the bullet for your little beauty, thinking I wanted to kill her? You don’t understand me, Luo. Ending someone with a single bullet is so boring.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper: “I fed her a chocolate bean, Luo. You’re on your way out, and I’ll let you see the most beautiful fireworks bloom.”

Luo Ren’s forehead veins bulged, his eyes instantly bloodshot.

In the Philippines, “chocolate bean” was their nickname for micro-bombs. Though the killing range wasn’t very large, inside a human body, it was enough to blast the abdomen to pieces.

This was called “fireworks blooming.”

Luo Ren let out a roar, using all his remaining strength to try to grab Leopard’s throat. Leopard laughed loudly, reaching for the detonator.

At that moment, Mu Dai, who had been standing motionless nearby, suddenly rushed forward, giving Leopard no time to react. One hand embraced her head, while the other thrust the snake-shaped knife toward her throat. Leopard reacted extremely quickly, arching backward. The knife tip drew a bloody path across her chest. Gunfire erupted from all around, mixed with shouts of “Watch out!” in English and local dialects.

Bullets rattled, hitting the chain link and creating sparks of metal and stone. Some hit the ground, sending cement fragments flying. Mu Dai covered her head and rolled over to Luo Ren’s side, urgently pressing onto him, calling: “Luo Xiaodao! Luo Xiaodao!”

Luo Ren’s pupils were dilated, lying in a pool of blood behind him, as if there were no signs of life.

Mu Dai cried out in anguish, using her hands to stop his bleeding wounds, shouting: “Luo Xiaodao, wake up!”

Gunshots rang out from above.

Leopard’s heart tightened: If she remembered correctly, she hadn’t stationed anyone up there.

Here, we need to go back to Zheng Mingshan.

Five people, one chicken, and one car slowly drove out of the ancient city.

Yi Wansan held the computer, nervously watching the rapid switching of camera views on the screen. It was dizzying, overwhelming. His forehead began to sweat, increasingly feeling that the car full of people was like a hastily assembled amateur team, unreliable.

Not daring to pursue immediately for fear of alerting their target, the car maintained a steady speed. At one point, Yi Wansan suddenly exclaimed: “The car is gone!”

Indeed, it was gone, disappeared from the screen.

Zheng Mingshan glanced at him: “It’s not gone, there are just no more cameras. Which intersection did it last appear at?”

Yi Wansan quickly switched views and zoomed in, vaguely making out the road sign, hurriedly searching: “From Jiangwan Road onward, it’s out of the city!”

If they had left the city, the area became vast. Without modern technology to assist, north, south, east, or west, any direction was possible.

But if they pursued too closely, they might alert their target and ruin everything.

Except for Qingmu, who was still struggling between unconsciousness and consciousness, three people and one chicken all looked at Zheng Mingshan.

Zheng Mingshan gritted his teeth: “Damn it, pursue!”

In Zheng Mingshan’s dictionary, there were no words like “hesitation” or “struggle.” He wasn’t sure if this personality trait was good or bad: Indecisive? Then just choose one, come what may, whichever your heart picks.

So they drove at full speed, rushing past that intersection without cameras.

The road began to get bumpy. The complexity of the terrain here exceeded Zheng Mingshan’s imagination, with many forks. On some dirt roads, he could determine the direction by fresh tire tracks, but on cement roads, there were no clues at all. After going back and forth several times, Zheng Mingshan lost patience, slammed on the brakes, and cursed.

Just then, Cao Yanhua pointed at the computer screen and shouted: “Car! Car! It’s back!”

Back again? Zheng Mingshan’s heart tightened as he grabbed the computer to look.

Not at the previous intersection but at another one. According to the map location, it wasn’t far.

Zooming in, though unclear, they could make out that apart from the driver, there were no other people in the car.

In professional terms, this was called “unloading cargo”—the cargo had been unloaded somewhere.

Cao Yanhua anxiously asked: “What do we do? The area is so large, who knows where he dropped off our Brother Luo…”

Before he could finish, his body lurched. Zheng Mingshan had already turned the car around: “Intercept him!”

With the help of surveillance cameras, along with Zheng Mingshan’s reckless driving skills, they cut through directly. Everyone in the car turned pale. Finally, at a fork in the road, they drifted across, blocking that car’s path.

Yi Wansan felt his stomach churning violently. Just as he recovered, Zheng Mingshan had already gotten out of the car with Cao Yanhua. From the corner of his eye, Yi Wansan saw Zheng Mingshan yank open the car door, drag the driver out, and immediately kick him.

So brutal!

Yi Wansan glanced at the computer screen and called out: “Senior Brother, there’s a camera, turn a bit to the right, don’t get caught on film!”

Sitting back, he saw Yan Hongsha staring at him. Yi Wansan straightened his neck: “What?”

Yan Hongsha said, “Being clever, huh?”

Outside the car, the driver was constantly begging for mercy as he was beaten. Cao Yanhua rolled up his sleeves like a following lackey, seizing any opportunity to kick the man. Cao Jiefang stretched its neck out the window, its eyes wide and round, comically startling at each punch and kick.

After a while, seemingly having gotten some information, Yi Wansan saw Zheng Mingshan deliver a heavy chop to the back of the man’s neck, causing him to collapse.

The car started again. Yi Wansan leaned out the window to look at the car parked sideways and the man lying beside it: “Senior Brother, we’re just leaving him on the road like this?”

“Yes.”

Yi Wansan felt excited. Unlike Luo Ren’s caution, Zheng Mingshan went to the extreme of recklessness. If they were filming a blockbuster, he would be the lone hero who, to save the world, blew up half the earth and left behind a mess.

On the way, Zheng Mingshan briefed them.

—”This road goes west to an abandoned factory, the main workshop.”

—”Including Leopard, there are four people there, all armed.”

—”We’ll split into two teams. Cao Yanhua and Hongsha follow me. Remember, listen to my commands. Without orders, stay behind me. I brought you to help, not to get you killed.”

—”Yi Wansan, stay in the car with Qingmu. Try to wake him up. In this situation, he’s more useful than all of you.”

…

The car stopped. The dark factory stood in the night, gradually merging with the dawn. Zheng Mingshan was the first to get out. When he looked back, Yan Hongsha had found a plastic bag somewhere and was holding it open. Yi Wansan had a knife and was cutting a gash on his arm, grimacing in pain while desperately squeezing blood into the bag.

Yan Hongsha urged him: “Squeeze more, we might need it.”

What a mess. Zheng Mingshan was impatient: “Let’s go already!”

Yan Hongsha jolted in fright, twisted the bag shut, put it in her pocket, and trotted down from the car.

Yi Wansan felt a bit envious, leaning out the car window to watch Yan Hongsha and Cao Yanhua follow Zheng Mingshan over the factory’s large iron gate, hurrying toward the central building.

Having martial arts skills was great. Even Cao Yanhua, who only knew bits and pieces, could be brought along as new manpower.

Yi Wansan looked down at Qingmu, whose eyes were rolling back, his mouth still mumbling incessantly, and reached out to pat his face: “Hey, hey, wake up…”

The three of them quickly pressed against the factory wall.

Ears to the wall to listen, there seemed to be movement, but it wasn’t clear.

Zheng Mingshan looked up, seeing small ventilation windows at intervals high above. The size…

His build probably couldn’t fit through, but with her petite frame, Hongsha should be able to.

Zheng Mingshan made a gesture, indicating he wanted to go up and check.

Cao Yanhua and Yan Hongsha understood, moving along the base of the wall to the main door. Cao Yanhua tentatively pushed it and whispered: “It’s locked from inside.”

Yan Hongsha also lowered her voice: “Can you open it?”

Cao Yanhua’s forehead was beaded with sweat, partly from anxiety, partly from fear and nervousness. He took out his bulging lock-picking kit: “I’ll try.”

“Don’t make any noise.”

How could he? Wasn’t that underestimating his professional quality? Which thief would come with gongs and drums when picking a lock?

Cao Yanhua wiped away sweat, spread open his lock-picking kit, and took out tools one by one.

As he was trying, suddenly, a muffled sound like a gunshot rang out.

They looked at each other, Yan Hongsha’s face pale as she trembled and asked: “Was that a gun?”

A small pebble fell beside them. Looking back, it was Zheng Mingshan, gesturing for them to come over immediately.

When they approached, his face was ashen as he said: “The situation inside is very bad. No time to dawdle, we need to move immediately.”

Then he looked at Yan Hongsha: “Are you afraid of dying?”

Yan Hongsha’s heart was pounding heavily, but she shook her head vigorously: “No.”

“Good girl, you’ll lead the charge.”

What?

Yan Hongsha was momentarily confused.

Zheng Mingshan quickly squatted down, using a pebble to draw a rectangle in the dirt, with a small square in the center.

“The factory is rectangular, with a cage in the middle. Apart from the main exit, I haven’t found any other exits. Luo Ren and Mu Dai are there. Luo Ren’s been shot. Leopard’s subordinates should be on all four sides. The ventilation windows have obstructions, with angles and positions not suitable for me to shoot. The situation is very bad; we need to act immediately.”

“Cao Pangpang, use all your strength to unlock the door. Hongsha, enter through the ventilation window, be as careful and hidden as possible. Tie the rope to the railing of the walkway up there. Here’s the gun for you.”

He pulled out his gun, quickly adjusting it to fire-ready state, and handed it directly to Yan Hongsha: “You don’t need to aim, just shoot. Of course, if you can take down one or two, that’s best. When the lock opens, swing in on the rope into the upper part of the factory, shooting in all directions to draw everyone’s attention to you.”

“Then I’ll enter through the main door, as silently as possible—Hongsha, pay attention. When you see the door open, immediately throw the gun to me.”

Yan Hongsha’s hand holding the gun was sweaty. She nodded: “Okay.”

“Using that moment of distraction inside, I’ll fire precision shots, should be able to take out two, aiming for three.” He looked at Cao Yanhua, “Then come in immediately. Forget martial arts etiquette; if we can all attack together, we attack together.”

Cao Yanhua nodded, his legs trembling slightly. Just as he was about to run back to unlock the door, Zheng Mingshan suddenly extended his hand, palm up.

Yan Hongsha understood first, placing her hand on his. Cao Yanhua also placed his hand on top.

Everyone’s hands were hot.

Zheng Mingshan said, “It’s okay, don’t be nervous. We’ll all make it back alive.”

Zheng Mingshan went up first. Though not as skilled as Mu Dai in wall-climbing, he could still manage to go up walls reasonably well.

Once in position, he lowered the rope and pulled Yan Hongsha up.

Yan Hongsha was very nervous, her lips bloodless. Before Zheng Mingshan went down, he patted Hongsha’s back and said: “Remember, no matter what you see, what you hear, or how anxious you feel inside, don’t act impulsively. Maintain your position, do your job.”

After saying this, he quickly slid down the wall. Yan Hongsha looked down to see Zheng Mingshan giving her a thumbs up.

She told herself, “Don’t panic, don’t be nervous, we’ll make it back alive.”

In the vast factory, all focus was on that cage. The spotlights divided light and darkness too sharply, and no one noticed the small figure entering through the high ventilation window.

Yan Hongsha, moving as lightly as possible, tied the rope end to the railing, calculated the length, then loosely wrapped the other end around her waist, estimating where she would land.

Mu Dai was in the cage. Luo Ren lay on the ground in a large pool of blood. Yan Hongsha’s temples pounded, but she forced herself to stay calm, keeping her eyes fixed on the main door, repeating to herself over and over: Maintain your position, do your job.

She didn’t know how many times she had repeated this when gunfire suddenly erupted inside the factory. Simultaneously, the main door opened silently, just a crack.

This was the moment!

Yan Hongsha gripped the gun handle tightly, took a step onto the railing, pushed off with her foot, raised the gun, pulled the trigger without hesitation, and swung into the factory.