(1)
I wonder if you’ve ever encountered such a deep night.
The kind where you wake up from a dream, and the whole world is so silent it feels like you’re still dreaming.
The insects outside the window had already gone quiet like extinguished lights, submerged together with the city in the thick fog.
Zhu Ying opened her eyes, a sudden inexplicable restlessness rising in her heart—not that she needed to use the bathroom, just that she suddenly couldn’t fall back asleep.
The dream she’d had was already forgotten. She just stared with round, bright eyes at the faintly lit ceiling.
After a long moment, she finally sat up in bed, her pale, crystal-clear little feet fumbling on the floor until they slipped into her soft slippers.
Every time she woke up startled from a dream, even if she didn’t need to go to the bathroom, she’d still force herself to go and come back—as if without that trip, no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly.
She stumbled to the door, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn, and lightly tapped the wall switch. A soft click sounded.
The crisp sound didn’t break the night’s silence. At the same time, no light came on.
“…Power outage?” she muttered to herself, pressing the switch twice more. Still nothing.
So she carefully pulled the door open, as if afraid the thick fog outside might seep in and devour the room. She peeked through the crack, saw the faint glow of the electronic clock in the living room, and breathed a slight sigh of relief before cautiously stepping out with one slender leg.
Maybe the master bedroom’s soundproofing was too good—she couldn’t hear her father’s snoring at all, nor her mother’s usual complaints when woken in the middle of the night. The house was as silent as a vast wilderness in the deep mountains, with her head stuffed into a quietly flowing stream.
Pata, pata, pata…
The sound of her slippers echoed down the short hallway. At the end was a window, through which the yellowed light of the streetlamp outside filtered in, but somehow that faint glow couldn’t seem to dispel the endless night.
Zhu Ying pursed her lips and murmured in a voice only she could hear: “If only Xiao Jing were here…”
But the hallway offered no response. She had to slide open the bathroom door herself and inch her way inside.
Even though she knew it was useless, she tried the light switch.
Sure enough, the power was out—the light didn’t come on.
When she was little, this was common in summer in the small city, but ever since starting junior high, she hadn’t encountered it again.
After all, this was a new era. Everything was getting better and better.
But maybe sometimes there were still accidents.
In the dead of night, were there workers in yellow pickup trucks somewhere repairing the circuits?
Maybe the repair site was pretty lively…
Zhu Ying pouted. Right now, she really wished the house were livelier, but the only sounds came from herself.
Using the faint light from the bathroom window, she fumbled her way through using the toilet. She placed her hands under the faucet, and the cool tap water flowing over her skin felt especially clear.
Maybe, in a sense, what flowed wasn’t water, but time.
“Ah-choo!” She sneezed suddenly, as if some warmth had been drained from her body, leaving her feeling cold and uneasy. She couldn’t be bothered to wash any longer and hurried back the way she came.
Her bed, still retaining some residual warmth, seemed like the safest place in the world. When she lay down, her rapidly beating heart immediately slowed.
But she still couldn’t sleep.
She tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.
The light outside remained dim. The night sky outside the window still had only a few stars scattered across it. The moon hung in the same spot—she felt like she’d been staring at it for ages, yet it hadn’t seemed to move.
The fluorescent hour hand on the wall clock barely seemed to have turned—but she clearly felt the second hand had gone around and around.
Time seemed frozen. Dawn refused to come.
Tonight’s night was exceptionally long, so long it felt like it would never get light.
Zhu Ying finally decided she couldn’t stay in bed any longer.
Even the bed itself felt soaked through with an icy, demonic cold. The longer she lay there, the more awake she became.
She got out of bed again, this time pulling on the sleep shirt and pants draped over the chair. Carefully, she walked to the living room, then to her parents’ bedroom door.
Summoning her courage, she quietly slid the door open to find her parents fast asleep.
Everything was the same as any other night, but they slept as if they would never wake again.
“Mom and Dad are sleeping well tonight…” Zhu Ying muttered softly, closing the door again. Her mother, who usually slept lightly and would wake at the slightest sound, showed no reaction at all.
It was an ordinary night, yet ordinary in an unusual way.
On a whim, she opened the front door, slipped on a pair of crystal sandals, and quietly stepped into the hallway.
Her heart pounded fiercely, but it gave her a clear sense of reality—she felt like she was in the real world, not a dream.
The hallway light was still on. The lights downstairs hadn’t gone out either.
It seemed only her apartment had lost power—or maybe it was just a tripped breaker.
Zhu Ying walked step by step out of the building, into the dense, foggy night.
The little ads painted on the utility pole were the same as always. Her gaze shifted from “Rich Woman Seeking Child with Heavy Reward” to “Certificate and Seal Making,” then landed on a banner hanging in the neighborhood:
Embrace a Comfortable Life, Walk towards a Happy World.
She shuddered and sneezed.
But she didn’t feel like going back inside. It wasn’t that something was driving her—she just instinctively felt it was warmer outside than in the house.
It was a summer night, yet she couldn’t seem to get warm.
A summer night without the sound of insects was as silent as winter.
It felt a bit strange.
Under the dim streetlights, she followed the neighborhood road until she reached the Dapeng Shopping Street outside.
At this midnight hour, even this place had fallen asleep, leaving only scraps of advertising paper blown around by the wind and the uncollected liquor bottles and black trash bags in the corners, telling the story of the hustle and bustle earlier in the evening.
“If only Xiao Jing were here…” Zhu Ying couldn’t help murmuring again.
Just as she reached the next streetlight, she saw a staggering figure coming from across the road.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she waved vigorously. “Xiao… Xiao Jing!?”
It was An Jing.
Her arms hung limp, her eyes tightly shut, as if she were sleepwalking.
“But how could Xiao Jing be out in her pajamas in the middle of the night… Am I dreaming after all?” Zhu Ying muttered, quickly crossing the road and walking up to An Jing.
The latter, as if she hadn’t seen her, walked straight into Zhu Ying’s arms.
“Xiao Jing? Xiao Jing! Wake up!” Although An Jing was usually unreliable too, the moment Zhu Ying saw her, she instinctively relaxed. She shook An Jing’s body vigorously, calling her name over and over. “Xiao Jing—Xiao—Jing—!”
Under the violent shaking, An Jing didn’t wake up; instead, she seemed to sink deeper into sleep, collapsing limply into Zhu Ying’s arms.
“Hey! Don’t fall asleep on the street! Xiao Jing!”
No response at all.
“What’s going on… Am I dreaming or is this real…” Zhu Ying frowned, gritted her teeth, and bit down hard on her own arm. Two deep teeth marks and the sharp, unmistakable pain seemed to tell her this was reality, not a dream.
But she still couldn’t be sure. Sometimes dreams could also create the illusion of pain—it felt incredibly real in the dream, and you only realized how fake the pain was when you woke up.
Just then, a lean, slightly tall young man appeared at the corner of the alley. He was calm and cold, like a venomous snake that had locked onto its prey.
The moment she saw him, Zhu Ying’s skin crawled instinctively, and she felt like her hair was standing on end—it was an extremely dangerous aura.
“This is the best time,” she heard him mutter to himself as he slowly walked toward her.
“What do you… want?” She hugged An Jing tighter.
“Hand her over to me.” The young man smiled a smile that held no hint of warmth.
“You want… Xiao Jing? Why?! Don’t come any closer! I’ll call the police!”
But the man just silently raised the oddly shaped gun in his hand. “I won’t hurt you. You’ll just fall asleep peacefully and forget tonight.”
“You—you—somebody help!!” Zhu Ying screamed in panic, her sharp cries swallowed entirely by the thick night fog.
But the moment he pulled the trigger, someone suddenly burst out from the alley corner and tackled both her and An Jing heavily to the ground.
A clear pain shot through her brain again.
“It’s you… You look familiar, but I don’t remember seeing your face.” The man who had tackled her said coldly.
“…”
“You didn’t expect me to be here, did you? It’s just a coincidence, but since I’ve encountered this, I can’t ignore it.” Zhu Ying slowly lifted her head and saw a somewhat familiar face. It was the barber from the old hair salon An Jing had visited.
But right now, he didn’t look like a barber at all. He looked more like a martial arts master hidden among the common people.
A whoosh sounded.
Then came a clink.
A silver throwing knife reflected the light, accurately deflecting the anesthesia dart.
“I only aim for my target. My mission isn’t to kill her, just to take her away.”
“Kidnapping is absolutely not allowed… Give up! I’ve figured out who you are—Lu Ye. It’s you.”
The only response was endless silence.
Though the silence lasted only a second.
And in the next second, several small throwing knives appeared in his hand.
Both of them used throwing knives, but Li Fayuan used specially made willow leaf curved blades, while Lu Ye used folding fruit knives that could be bought at any small shop.
Zhu Ying held An Jing tightly, feeling like she was holding a block of ice. Her own body felt like it was turning cold too, and she didn’t even have the strength to stand up.
In that state of weak exhaustion, completely involuntarily, she slowly closed her eyes…