Category: Come, Let Me Take You Home

No. 100 Hope Lies Where the Chariot of War Passes

“I thought you didn’t believe in this virus thing?”

“Let me tell you straight, Yi Yao, you aren’t the type to joke about something like this.”

Pai Ge’s serious expression made me chuckle wryly.

“It’s true. The virus is real, but it’s not as dramatic as the movies.”

“How so?”

“The virus is called ‘Toilet Paper.’ The superficial effects resemble a zombie virus—fever, skin discoloration, bloodshot eyes, a pale complexion. But it’s based on a common cold virus. It’s not lethal. The mortality rate is even lower than the bird flu.”

“Then…”

“But it can still… cause widespread chaos. If things go as I predict, Upper Capital City will be paralyzed for at least two weeks.”

“But Yi Yao, where did you get this information?” Pai Ge leaned closer, his expression serious. “The Pai family has its own intelligence network, and we haven’t found any evidence of this ‘Toilet Paper’ virus.”

“I… I used to be part of an online hacker alliance. They stumbled upon this information during a hack into the Gathering Hall’s servers.”

A sudden chill filled the air.

“The Gathering Hall?”

Lu Kai, who had been sunbathing, sat up abruptly, removing his sunglasses. “What are those bastards planning? I haven’t even settled the score for them attacking my men, and now they’re pulling this stunt?”

“Haha, Kai Ge, looking for trouble again?” Pai Ge teased.

“Damn right! That Huang Qinghao punk’s father keeps demanding his release. You think those useless cops can handle this? Listen, Luo Wei, I don’t care about other territories, but if I see a single Gathering Hall member in Jiangnan District, they’re dead. I don’t care about special circumstances. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

“Calm down, Kai Ge. We’re all friends here. We’re just discussing how to handle this virus situation.”

“How the hell should I know? Why are those Gathering Hall psychos so twisted? They have a perfectly good city, a chance to make money, and they choose to develop a zombie virus? They think they can bring down Upper Capital City with this?”

Their heated exchange caught the attention of Jesus, who had been sitting quietly in a corner. I quickly greeted him.

“Jesus.”

Xiaodie bowed respectfully.

It wasn’t just politeness. The old man exuded an aura of power that demanded respect. Unlike Luo Wei and Lu Kai, he was a true veteran of the underworld, a retired gangster who still commanded a palpable presence.

Beneath his casual floral shirt, his body was covered in scars, a testament to a life of violence. His eyes, though clouded with age, still held a chilling intensity, a remnant of his ruthless past. I hadn’t even dared to investigate his background.

A man like him had undoubtedly taken countless lives.

“Hmm.”

He nodded curtly in response to our greetings, his gaze fixed on Pai Ge.

“Any news about your uncle?”

Pai Ge shook his head. “What do you think about this, Jesus?”

The old man turned to me, his gaze piercing. “Little girl, are you sure this information is reliable?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

“You remind me of a former subordinate of mine.” He turned away, his voice tinged with sadness. “He knew everything that was happening in the underworld. I survived that disaster because of him. But he… Well, let’s just say I’ve heard of the Gathering Hall.”

“But instead of worrying about others, you should be more concerned about yourself.”

He patted my shoulder and walked past me.

“They might not be lions, but you’re not a tiger either. In times of chaos, only the cunning survive.”

He disappeared into the hallway without another word.

His cryptic message left me confused.

“What did he mean?” I asked Pai Ge, once Jesus was out of sight.

“Hahaha! Yi Yao, I’ve always thought highly of you, but sometimes you’re so clueless. Your little girlfriend is much sharper than you.”

“Xiaodie?”

“I think he’s warning you to be careful, Yi Yao,” Xiaodie said, her voice soft. “If the virus spreads and causes panic, the Gathering Hall might take advantage of the chaos to target you.”

“Target me?”

I was even more confused. “After the virus outbreak in my previous life, the police arrested them. I wasn’t involved at all.”

“It’s different now, Yi Yao. You can’t always rely on the past. Maybe, as you said, this is a new timeline. The future might be completely different from what you remember.”

“Seriously, you two? Can’t you stop flirting for a minute?” Pai Ge interrupted, standing up from his chair.

“Look, we’ve already built the shelter. If the virus spreads, the DK Corporation will gain the trust of the entire city. And the Gathering Hall will be exposed for the monsters they are. It’s a win-win situation. As for you, Yi Yao… Bing!”

Huh?

Before I could react, Lu Yibing, who had been practicing diving in her cute swimsuit, climbed out of the pool and dragged me towards the water.

“Wait… wait… I…”

“Splash!”

I was pulled into the water, my protests drowned out by the splash.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

The sudden shock of cold water jolted me awake, dispelling the lingering drowsiness from the afternoon sun.

“Haha! Xiaodie, do you mind if I borrow your girlfriend for a bit?”

Borrow? What am I, a tool?

Xiaodie simply smiled, her silence a tacit approval.

“Lu Yibing, you…”

I turned to face her, noticing an elderly man standing beside her.

He had a long beard, shifty eyes, and a lecherous grin.

“Who are you?”

“Ho ho ho! I haven’t seen such a handsome young lady in a long time. I like you, I like you. Feeling refreshed now?”

Refreshed my ass! My clothes are soaked! How am I supposed to go home like this?

Unlike Jesus, whose mere presence radiated menace, this old man was overtly creepy, his words and actions unsettling.

“Um… can I change my clothes first?”

My T-shirt and shorts were clinging to my body, my underwear soaked. It was uncomfortable.

I had seen him sipping coconut juice under a palm tree earlier, assuming he was just another harmless old man. I hadn’t expected him to be so… perverted.

“Heh heh heh, no need, no need. I love a good wet T-shirt contest. Especially with a tomboyish girl like you. That shy look on your face is priceless.”

He stroked his beard, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“You…”

“Hey, Old Man, lay off her. She’s just a kid,” Lu Kai protested, his voice laced with annoyance. “You’re going to scare her away.”

“Heh heh heh, what’s the big deal? She needs to experience the real world. And trust me, she’ll hear those words again, whether I say them or not.”

Old Man?

My confusion deepened.

“I told you Bing had a master, right?” Pai Ge said, noticing my puzzled expression. He pointed towards the old man. “That’s him.”

“Him?”

I almost choked on the water. “You said her master was a reclusive hermit!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my appearance? Don’t I look like a hermit?”

My words seemed to offend him.

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Not at all,” I replied flatly. “You look like a creepy old man.”

“Hahaha! You’re a smooth talker, little girl. Calling me an old man at my age… Wait, what does ‘creepy’ mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“Bing, your friend is being mean. She called me creepy.”

Lu Yibing, her expression neutral, submerged her head again, avoiding the conflict.

“Tch, fine, fine. A daughter is like spilled water. I can’t expect you to defend your old master anymore. Ahem, Yi Yao, was it? Want to learn some martial arts?”

“No.”

“Splash!”

My blunt refusal made him flinch, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead. “Why not? It’s free!”

“My instincts tell me you’re dangerous.”

I glanced at Lu Yibing, who was blowing bubbles in the water.

A perfectly normal girl had been transformed into a silent, emotionless doll under his tutelage. I wasn’t falling for that trap.

“Heh heh, of course I’m dangerous. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to protect the Lu family’s precious daughter.”

He puffed out his chest, his voice filled with pride. “Do you know how many men they sent after me? How many helicopters and armored vehicles they deployed to hunt me down in the jungle?”

“They?”

“A foreign organization that the Lu family had offended,” Pai Ge explained. “They’ve been expelled from the country now.”

I see.

“If I learn your martial arts,” I asked, “will I gain the ability to stop time, to create a pocket dimension where I can store an infinite amount of weapons, to summon battleships and fighter jets to attack my enemies?”

His eyebrow twitched. “No.”

“Can I transform into a flaming warrior with crimson hair, wielding a sword and fire magic, my attacks ignoring all defenses?”

“No.”

“Can I swing a forty-meter-long sword?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the point?”

My question stumped him. He turned to Lu Yibing for help.

“Bing, why did you choose to train with me?”

She emerged from the water, her expression blank, her eyes blinking slowly. “I don’t know.”

No. 99 The Approaching Storm

It took Xiaodie a grueling hour and a half to perfect her dance routine.

Despite her meticulous preparations, the pressure of performing in front of a camera, coupled with my presence as her camerawoman, often caused her to falter. She missed steps, forgot sequences, and her expressions occasionally froze, demanding multiple retakes even when I thought her performance was flawless. She refused to leave any trace of “black history” on the internet.

The camera might not have captured it, but after an hour of intense physical exertion under the scorching sun, Xiaodie was drenched in sweat. As I turned off the camera, she stumbled towards me, her face pale, beads of perspiration trickling down her cheeks.

“Here.”

I handed her a towel.

“Thanks.”

A single swipe removed most of her makeup, revealing the sweat stains on her white thigh-highs beneath her dress.

“It’s so hot,” she complained, gulping down water. “This weather is terrible for dancing.”

I rolled my eyes. “I told you to wake up earlier. We could have filmed tomorrow morning. You’re going to get heatstroke.”

“But I promised my fans a new dance video today. I have to keep my promises.”

“It’s not like they’re paying you. They enjoy your cosplays and videos, but you’re not earning a single cent. You’re working yourself to the bone for nothing.”

Her dedication, her selflessness, made my heart ache.

I would rather she be a pampered princess, carefree and content, her needs met, her happiness secured. I could handle the financial burden.

“It’s not about the money,” she said, shaking her head. “Their support means everything to me. I wouldn’t be here without them. That’s why I have to keep my promises.”

“Is that so…” I sighed, deciding not to argue. “Pai Ge invited us to his place.”

“Huh? The arcade?”

“No, a luxury residential complex in Jiangnan District.”

“How luxurious?”

“He said we could go swimming. He has a private pool.”

“Will we be gone long?”

“Probably.” I thought for a moment. “Knowing him, he might drag us along for an entire afternoon of swimming.”

“If that’s the case, you have to help me with my homework tonight.”

“Of course. I’ll come over to your place.”

My stepbrother wasn’t moving in until tomorrow.

“You’re the best, Yi Yao!”

She threw her arms around me, her sweat-soaked body clinging to mine, her cheeks still flushed from her exertion.

As we drove towards the address Pai Ge had provided, I couldn’t imagine anyone living in such a remote, desolate area.

But I was wrong.

The taxi dropped us off in front of a sprawling mansion, its grandeur fit for a movie set.

It wasn’t part of a gated community like Xiaodie’s villa.

It stood alone, a solitary testament to wealth and power, surrounded by acres of manicured gardens and orchards, its entrance guarded by a tall, ornate iron gate.

“Are you Miss Yi Yao and Miss Huang Yingdie?”

An elderly man in a black tuxedo approached us as the taxi drove away. He stood ramrod straight, his demeanor impeccably formal.

I felt a surge of primal fear, a visceral reaction to his presence.

He wasn’t armed, there were no visible weapons concealed beneath his pristine uniform, and yet, my instincts screamed at me to be wary.

Like Ah Zhi, the masked man from Zero, this elderly butler exuded an aura of danger, a quiet strength that sent shivers down my spine.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady, suppressing the urge to draw my knives.

This was Pai Ge’s family home, the “Pai family mansion” he had mentioned. This butler was likely an ally.

“The Young Master informed me of your arrival. Please follow me.”

He bowed slightly, then turned and walked towards the gate. With a subtle gesture, the heavy iron gates swung open, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with flowering shrubs and fruit trees.

Xiaodie clutched my hand, her grip tight.

“Please relax. You are safe here. The Young Master has ensured your protection,” the butler said, his voice calm and reassuring, sensing our apprehension.

“Um…”

“In the future, please inform us in advance of your visits. We can arrange transportation. The Pai family is currently in a delicate situation. It’s best to keep our location secret.”

So this was their true headquarters.

“I apologize. We’ll be more careful next time.”

Although Pai Ge had promised to officially initiate me into the Pai family, this butler was clearly a long-time member, deserving of respect.

He nodded curtly, then continued walking.

We followed him through a grand hallway, past several rooms, until we reached an outdoor swimming pool.

“Young Master, I have brought the guests.”

The “swimming pool” was more like a miniature ocean—palm trees, a sandy beach, fountains, everything you would expect at a luxurious seaside resort. It was the size of several football fields.

Pai Ge, Lu Kai, Lu Yibing, and two elderly men, one of whom I recognized as Jesus, the leader of Zero, were lounging by the pool.

“Excellent. You may leave us,” Pai Ge said, waving to us from a beach chair. He was wearing a stylish shirt, his usual fedora absent. “Come join us, ladies.”

“You make it sound like a shady establishment,” I said, joining him, my gaze sweeping across the opulent surroundings. “What’s the occasion?”

The DK Corporation had just gone public. Pai Ge had mentioned being busy with work.

“Haha, just wanted to hang out, chat a bit.”

He took a sip of juice, then nudged Lu Kai, who was lying on a beach chair beside him, his upper body bare, his lean muscles glistening with sweat. He was wearing only swimming trunks and sunglasses. “Hey, aren’t you going to greet the ladies?”

“Shut up. They’re too young. Not interested.”

He punched Pai Ge playfully, then waved at Xiaodie and me. “Feel free to enjoy yourselves. Break something if you want. It’s on me.”

“That’s not very gentlemanly, Kai Ge. Especially for the heir to one of the three great families.”

“Mind your own business. My men are causing me enough headaches already. Don’t bother me.”

Unlike the charming, charismatic Pai Ge, Lu Kai was more like a stereotypical gangster, his demeanor gruff and arrogant.

“Haha, fine, fine. Enjoy your sunbathing.”

Pai Ge set down his glass and gestured towards the empty beach chairs beside him. “You know about the three great families, right?”

The three great families?

The three most powerful families in Yixian Province, controlling vast fortunes and influencing every aspect of society?

I had encountered them in my previous life, my hacking skills often employed to gather information about them. But I had never dared to delve too deeply, knowing they were far beyond my reach.

I settled down on a beach chair. “Not really.”

“Well, two of them are right here.”

He pointed at himself and Lu Kai.

“And the third?”

“You are.”

“Me?” I blinked, confused. “Pai Ge, don’t joke about that. I’ve never heard of a Yi family in Upper Capital City.”

“Not the Yi family. The Long family.”

“The Long family?” It finally clicked. “Long Fei?”

“Haha, you’re quick.”

Lu Yibing, who had been playing with the elderly men in the pool, swam towards us.

“Hey, Bing, can’t wait to get out of the water now that your girlfriend is here?”

She blushed, submerging her head, her mouth releasing a stream of bubbles.

Seeing her in that cute swimsuit, her usual aloofness replaced by a shy demeanor, I could hardly reconcile this image with the fierce, silent girl who had single-handedly defeated a gang of thugs.

“It’s not like you to invite me somewhere without Ouyang Dati,” I said, changing the subject.

Among the Black Dragon Society members, Ouyang Dati was the most trustworthy.

Unlike Pai Ge, who still kept many secrets, Ouyang Dati had been Long Fei’s designated confidant, and his military background had been verified. He wasn’t shrouded in mystery like Pai Ge and Lu Kai.

“Haha, you’re quite observant, little sister.” Pai Ge chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s not as complicated as you think. It’s just that… what I’m about to tell you is confidential. We can’t involve the military.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about… the zombie virus.”

No. 98 Like a Light Just Out of Reach

The high school entrance exams were approaching.

Despite promising not to disrupt our studies, allowing us to prepare for the exams at our own pace, most teachers continued to hold regular classes.

“I’ll just cover a few key points.”

“We’ll finish these topics and then you can study on your own.”

“You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to, but be quiet.”

The countdown on the blackboard ticked away relentlessly, the classroom atmosphere thick with tension, anxiety, and a bittersweet sense of impending separation.

Exams, farewells, new schools, new classmates.

Despite the usual bickering and petty conflicts, a sense of camaraderie had developed within our class, a recognition of the shared experiences that had bound us together for the past three years.

Except for one person.

Xiaodie seemed immune to the pre-exam anxiety that plagued the rest of us.

She studied diligently in class, slept when she was tired, dragged me along on snack runs to the convenience store, insisted on shopping trips after school, demanded nightly Weibo updates, forced me to practice otaku dances for our fans, her boundless optimism a constant source of amusement and exasperation.

I suspected that if left unchecked, she would find even more ways to distract herself from the looming exams.

Not only were the exams approaching, but Upper Capital City itself felt like a carefree paradise on the brink of collapse.

The political turmoil hadn’t subsided, the Gathering Hall’s ambitions remained unchecked, and new gangs were emerging from the shadows like mushrooms after a rain.

Perhaps because I was a girl, Pai Ge and Ouyang Dati shielded me from the grim realities of the gang war. But the reports from the hacker alliance painted a bleak picture. Their efforts to unify the underworld were proving more challenging than anticipated.

I had initially imagined my life as a gang leader would be like those scenes in gangster movies, where I would receive a call in the middle of class, informing me that some rival gang had insulted our honor. I would then slam my fist on my desk, ignore the teacher’s protests, grab a machete, and rush out to join my brothers in a bloody brawl.

But reality was far less glamorous.

The Black Dragon Society and the Jiangnan Association had indeed clashed several times, resulting in injuries and even deaths. But whenever I inquired, Pai Ge would assure me that everything was under control, urging me to focus on my studies.

And just like when Long Fei had introduced me to the underworld, those who had been beaten and bruised would plaster on fake smiles, assuring me that it was just a minor scuffle, nothing to worry about.

Pai Ge only summoned me for important events, occasions that required my presence as the “boss.” And those events inevitably involved gasps of surprise and whispered comments.

“Wow, our boss is a girl!”

“Damn, I didn’t know our gang had such a beautiful girl!”

“You don’t understand, she’s cool!”

I had also discussed the Gathering Hall virus with Pai Ge. While he remained skeptical about the possibility of a zombie outbreak, he agreed to establish a shelter under the guise of the DK Corporation, using online platforms to spread the word. If a biohazard occurred, anyone, human or “zombie,” could seek refuge there as long as they were still conscious.

The decision had been met with ridicule and skepticism.

“Seriously? You think this is a sci-fi movie?”

“A free shelter is a nice gesture, but I doubt it’ll ever be used.”

“Get real. Zombies? I’ll be the first to volunteer for infection if that virus ever exists.”

“I looked into this DK company. They’re new, and their CEO is clearly an idiot. Wasting money on a zombie shelter? What a joke.”

Countless online comments mocked the initiative. A news agency even published a sensationalized article about it.

“Small Company Establishes Anti-Zombie Shelter? Is the Biohazard Threat Real?”

I had advised Pai Ge to ignore the criticism. Whether positive or negative, the goal was to raise awareness, to ensure that people remembered the DK Black Dragon Society and its shelter when the time came.

“Are you awake?”

I stood outside Xiaodie’s villa, having completed my morning exercise routine. It was a Sunday.

“No…”

Her voice, soft and sleepy, drifted through the phone. “I want Yi Yao-chan to wake me up…”

This girl…

I hung up and walked around to the back of the villa, easily scaling the seven-foot wall and landing in her garden.

She always kept the front door locked, fearing intruders.

“Woof!”

Xiaobai, who had been napping in the garden, pounced on me, his wet tongue attempting to lick my face.

“Okay, okay, I’ll play with you later. Good boy.”

I pushed him away, scratching his head affectionately. He was almost as big as a Siberian Husky now.

I unlocked the back door and stepped inside.

The garden was a testament to Xiaodie’s love for nature. Roses, peonies, sunflowers, even a small vegetable patch and a grapevine—it was a miniature Eden.

In a few months, it would be a paradise.

“Xiaodie?”

I called out, but there was no response from upstairs.

I sighed inwardly, retrieving my cherry-shaped hair clip from my pocket and securing it to my hair, smoothing down my unruly strands.

I climbed the stairs, the sunlight streaming through the windows, illuminating her bedroom door, which was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open, revealing a simple yet cozy room, a haven of girlish dreams. Xiaodie lay in bed, her lavender pajamas rumpled, her breathing slow and even, her face serene.

She was pretending to sleep.

I knew her sleeping habits. She was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning, often ending up tangled in the sheets or sprawled on the floor. This perfect, ladylike pose was a charade.

“Come on, wake up.”

I placed the breakfast I had bought on her bedside table.

“We’re filming our first dance video today, remember?”

I occasionally checked our Weibo account. Xiaodie had a natural talent for social media, understanding her audience and catering to their desires. She had managed to maintain a steady stream of content, keeping our fans engaged.

My only complaint was that her skirts were often too short.

“Mmm… Good morning, Yi Yao…”

She opened her eyes, her smile sleepy and sweet.

“It’s almost ten o’clock. If you wait until noon to film, you’ll be a sweaty mess.”

The June heat in Upper Capital City was brutal.

I had always considered myself heat-tolerant, having lived here for over twenty years. But becoming a girl had made me realize the importance of proper attire and preparation.

“Your outfit is making me feel things, Yi Yao.”

“Just get up.”

I had opted for a pair of extremely short denim shorts and a T-shirt, my legs mostly bare. Yi Yao had a good figure, so I wasn’t self-conscious about showing some skin.

“Ah… It’s a beautiful day…”

She stretched, yawning, then grabbed a cosplay outfit from her bedside table.

“Don’t change in front of me!”

“What’s the big deal? You’ve already seen everything.”

She pulled on a pair of white thigh-highs, then slipped into a white dress with a frilly skirt. She brushed her hair, securing it with a ribbon.

If I weren’t a girl now, I would probably be drooling.

“The camera is in the second drawer of the bookshelf. Um… Do you know how to use it?”

“Of course.”

I picked up the camera. “Shouldn’t we set it up on a tripod?”

“We need two cameras. That one is for behind-the-scenes footage.”

“Behind-the-scenes footage?”

“Of course! Our interactions, close-ups of the environment, special effects, maybe even some fan service. I’ve been doing my research. Looks alone won’t get you far online. We need to be talented and hardworking.”

“Why go through all this trouble?”

“Because we’re broke.”

I was speechless.

“Hee hee, I know you don’t care about money, Yi Yao, but I want to keep up with you.”

“…”

Her determination was admirable.

I still had a family, a support system. Xiaodie had nothing. Her drive, her ambition, was born out of necessity.

Just like mine had been.

Around 11 AM, after Xiaodie had finally eaten her “breakfast,” we arrived at Luming Park, our chosen filming location.

Luming Park was a popular zoo, home to a variety of animals, including a herd of sika deer that roamed freely in a spacious, grassy enclosure—the perfect backdrop for our dance video.

Since this was our first attempt, Xiaodie had chosen a secluded spot.

“Play the music, Yi Yao. I need to find the rhythm. We’ll add the actual soundtrack later.”

“Okay.”

I pulled out my phone, selected the song “Renai Circulation,” a popular choice for aspiring otaku dancers, and pressed play.

As the music filled the air, I noticed a message from Pai Ge.

“Want to come hang out at the Pai family mansion?”

No. 97 Those Prisoners Who Wander

My stepbrother, Mo Ziyang, aside from being an anime enthusiast, was also a dedicated gamer.

It was rare to find a university student, especially a male one, who didn’t play video games. Those who abstained were rarer than pandas. Even those who had never touched a game before often felt pressured to learn, driven by social expectations.

It was similar to drinking. Many people initially loathed the taste of alcohol, but societal pressures often forced them to conform.

Company gatherings, toasts with colleagues, celebrations with friends—refusing a drink was often perceived as a sign of disrespect or aloofness.

In university, gaming was a social currency. Those who didn’t participate were often ostracized, their lack of gaming knowledge a barrier to forming friendships and networking opportunities. To fit in, to avoid being labeled as a social outcast, they had to learn.

Similarly, a girl who disliked shopping, if placed in a dormitory with shopaholic roommates, would likely succumb to peer pressure, either embracing the joys of retail therapy or accepting the label of a social recluse.

I intended to exploit my stepbrother’s gaming habits by planting a little “surprise” on his computer.

Wang Cai had already installed a backdoor on his computer, so I didn’t need to hack into it again. But to prevent him from reformatting his hard drive in a fit of rage, I had obtained his QQ number, ensuring future access.

As I checked my email, I noticed a message from Zhui Feng, its subject line alarming.

“Urgent! Invitation from the Kennel! This concerns the fate of humanity!”

The Upper Capital City branch of the Queen Bee hacker alliance was known as the “Kennel” because all its members used dog-themed aliases.

Zhui Feng (Chasing Wind), Jing Lei (Thunderbolt), Shan Dian (Lightning), Gou Zi (Puppy), Wang Cai (Lucky Dog).

They claimed to have chosen those names because they were unassuming, easily overlooked, and less likely to attract unwanted attention.

My alias, “Little Bee,” had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

I had initially assumed Zhui Feng’s email was a technical query, but to my surprise, it contained information about the Gathering Hall.

“Urgent. Regarding the investigation of the criminal organization you requested, Little Bee, we’ve uncovered something disturbing.”

The email seemed to be a mass message, not addressed specifically to me.

Zhui Feng described a heavily encrypted file he had extracted from the Gathering Hall’s server.

“It’s a highly contagious virus that can transform ordinary people into zombie-like creatures. It’s transmitted through bodily fluids, and there’s no known cure or vaccine. The Gathering Hall plans to release it into Upper Capital City’s main water supply, infecting the entire population.”

“The report suggests a release date in August, giving us less than two months to stop them. But we haven’t been able to locate their research facility.”

“This email has been forwarded to all core members of major hacker alliances. If they’ve truly developed a zombie virus, as the report suggests, it could be a global catastrophe.”

“We urge all hackers to unite. This is no longer a simple criminal matter. It concerns the fate of humanity. Please set aside your current projects and focus on investigating this threat. A new crusade is upon us.”

“Crusade” was the term hackers used for coordinated cyberattacks, usually in response to national security threats or patriotic causes.

“A zombie virus?”

Xiaodie, who had been reading over my shoulder, stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Yi Yao… Is this real?”

I nodded grimly. “Yes.”

Upper Capital City had indeed experienced a zombie outbreak in my previous life.

It had occurred during my first summer vacation in high school. The virus had spread rapidly, infecting the entire city within a week.

Ironically, the virus itself wasn’t particularly harmful.

Dizziness, fever, mild hallucinations, and skin discoloration were the main symptoms. Infected individuals experienced a sense of disorientation and blurred vision, but their cognitive abilities remained intact. However, the prevalence of zombie movies had created a widespread panic, convincing many citizens that this was a genuine zombie apocalypse.

And some individuals, either out of malice or a desire for chaos, had exploited the situation, intentionally biting uninfected people, spreading fear and misinformation, embracing the apocalyptic narrative.

The city had descended into chaos, with infected individuals looting and rioting, celebrating their perceived freedom from societal constraints.

“No way… Yi Yao, don’t scare me! Is the world ending?”

Xiaodie trembled, clutching my arm. “This is fake, right? Zombies don’t exist…”

“Well…”

I opened my sent items folder.

“I tried to warn the authorities, but they refused to believe me. They’re convinced that Shadow has been eradicated.”

I had attempted to raise the alarm months ago, but my warnings had fallen on deaf ears. A sixteen-year-old middle school girl’s concerns were easily dismissed.

Even Ouyang Dati and Pai Ge had thought I was delusional.

I’m from ten years in the future. I’ve experienced this—those words would only invite ridicule.

So all I could do was prepare for the inevitable, to protect my family and myself.

That was why I had asked Zhui Feng and his team to investigate the Gathering Hall. A warning from a reputable hacker alliance would carry more weight than the ramblings of a teenager.

But I hadn’t expected the threat to materialize so soon.

“Don’t worry, the virus isn’t fatal,” I said, trying to reassure her.

Like a common cold, the so-called zombie virus had a limited lifespan within the human body. The immune system would eventually eliminate it within two weeks. And with the rapid development of a vaccine a month later, the outbreak had been contained before it could spread beyond Upper Capital City.

But while the virus itself wasn’t deadly, its consequences were devastating.

Countless people had lost their homes, their livelihoods, their sense of security. The once-thriving city had become a ghost town, a breeding ground for violence and despair.

Over a thousand people had died indirectly from the outbreak, mostly from fighting and a few from suicide.

“We’ll just stock up on supplies and stay home for two weeks,” I said, my voice calm.

The virus had come and gone quickly. After the first person recovered, more and more people realized it wasn’t fatal. Combined with the government’s effective containment measures, the city had returned to normalcy within a month.

“Are you… sure?”

Xiaodie’s voice was laced with doubt.

“Do you believe in zombies?” I asked, gently knocking on her forehead. “Of course not! They defy the laws of physics. How can a creature run and bite without eating or drinking for years? It’s as impossible as a perpetual motion machine.”

Although, I did believe in the existence of phenomena that science couldn’t explain.

“Pai Ge is already investigating the Gathering Hall. We’re just kids. Let the adults handle it. They’ll take care of it.”

“But… zombie girls are cute, aren’t they?” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. “I’m not… afraid…”

“You will be.”

Everyone would be.

Even with a mortality rate of less than one percent, the mere mention of a virus triggered a primal fear, a biological imperative for self-preservation.

I knew that no matter what I said, no one would believe me when the time came.

Even the scientists who had studied the virus and declared it non-lethal had been met with skepticism and fear.

If I couldn’t control the situation, I would focus on protecting those I cared about.

“I’m not afraid. You’ll protect me, right, Yi Yao?”

“Of course. But you have to promise to listen to me and stay home.”

I closed my email and opened the backdoor program Gou Zi had provided.

The monitoring window showed my “onii-chan,” back in his dormitory, launching League of Legends and joining a ranked match with his roommates.

I connected to their voice chat, and as expected, he was bragging about his “little sister.”

“You guys wouldn’t believe it. My new stepsister is so adorable! She’s beautiful, nothing like her online persona. And she’s so sweet and caring. It’s like a dream come true. I can’t believe such a perfect little sister actually exists.”

“Gross, dude. You’re creepy. You’re attracted to your own sister?” a gruff voice responded.

“Hey, you don’t understand. I’ve never had a sister before. I’m starting to think I won’t be able to tolerate a girlfriend who’s less perfect than her.”

“First, you need to get a girlfriend.”

“Can we not talk about that?”

They laughed, their banter a symphony of youthful camaraderie, then entered the game.

“I’ll support.”

“I’ll carry.”

I watched the monitoring screen, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. I uploaded the virus I had created.

His computer had three games installed: League of Legends, Dungeon Fighter Online, and Dragon Nest.

The virus was designed to trigger specific events in each game. In League of Legends, if he achieved a double kill or higher, there was a chance his internet connection would be severed. A quadra kill would guarantee a disconnection.

In Dungeon Fighter Online, obtaining an epic item would trigger a disconnection. And in Dragon Nest, there was a chance his computer would shut down randomly.

“That’s what you get for entering my room without permission,” I muttered, closing the monitoring window. I leaned over and kissed Xiaodie’s cheek.

“Want to go out?”

No. 96 The Courage to Face the Future

After dinner, I volunteered to wash the dishes, slipping into an apron and carrying the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

As I washed, I overheard my father and “brother” discussing my future.

“Girls don’t need to go to prestigious universities. Just find a good husband and settle down,” my father said.

“Dad, I disagree. Yi Yao is a bright student. She should aim for the best universities,” Ziyang protested, his voice earnest. Despite being the newcomer, he had already adopted the role of the protective older brother.

“You’re still young. You don’t understand how the world works. A university degree isn’t worth much these days. She should learn a trade, gain some work experience. Girls don’t have the luxury of time like you boys. Their value depreciates with age.”

I couldn’t understand my father’s logic. He had criticized my poor grades, and now that I was excelling, he was discouraging me from pursuing higher education.

“Surely a degree from Tsinghua or Peking University is still valuable?” Ziyang argued.

“Those universities are too far away. Who will take care of her?”

“She’ll be old enough to take care of herself by then.”

“I’m worried about the tuition fees. Upper Capital City isn’t a wealthy city. One meal at those universities could cost more than our entire daily food budget.”

“Money shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Oh, you make it sound like we’re rich.”

They continued their discussion, their happy banter excluding me, the actual daughter.

I finished washing the dishes, placed them in the sterilizer, removed my apron, washed my hands, and returned to the living room.

“Yi Yao, tell us, which high school do you want to attend?”

My father beckoned me towards the sofa, his expression hopeful. “I’ll listen to you this time.”

“I… Well…”

This time, my hesitation was genuine.

I could get into any high school in the country with my current grades, but I had to consider our financial situation and Xiaodie’s plans.

My family couldn’t know about my involvement with the Black Dragon Society, so even if I had the money, I couldn’t just casually produce a wad of cash and claim to have won the lottery. This charade required authenticity.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

Someone was at the door.

“Coming!”

I hurried towards the door, my slippers slapping against the floor. Before I could even register who it was, a small figure, enveloped in the scent of fresh soap, threw her arms around me.

“Yi Yao-chan, long time no see!”

Xiaodie, her voice cheerful, turned to face the occupants of the living room. “Hello, Uncle, Aunt… Oh, and hello, brother!”

“Hello…”

Ziyang, startled, stammered, “You’re Yi Yao’s friend, Xiaodie, right? I’ve seen your photos online. Have you eaten dinner?”

“Yes, thank you, big brother!”

She giggled, pulling me towards my room. “I’m borrowing Yi Yao for a bit!”

As I was dragged away, I heard Ziyang asking my father about Xiaodie.

“What are you doing here?”

I closed the door, my voice laced with exasperation, watching as Xiaodie sprawled on my bed, her expression a mixture of amusement and mischief.

Her house was a forty-minute bus ride away. This impromptu visit was a waste of her time…

“I came to see the adorable version of Yi Yao-chan.”

She ignored my reproachful tone, sitting up abruptly and scrutinizing me. “Well, you’re doing a good job. You’re very convincing.”

I turned away, my cheeks flushing. “I’m not happy about that.”

Calling a boy “adorable” was just wrong.

“Hmm? Are you still in character? It’s cute. Hee hee, maybe we should reenact that night? I miss your adorable moans!”

“No!”

I panicked. “My dad and Aunt Mo are right outside!”

“That just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?”

“No! No! No! We can’t do that here…”

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” She pulled me down onto the bed beside her, her voice a mischievous whisper. “Seriously, though, are you confident you can win over your stepbrother? I can help if you need it.”

“I think so.”

Mo Ziyang was just an ordinary geek. I wasn’t unattractive. Gaining his affection wouldn’t be difficult.

“How does it feel? Changing your personality like this? Is it uncomfortable?”

“Not really. It just feels… melancholy.”

I lowered my gaze. “My father seems to like this version of me. And my stepbrother too. They’re both happy when I’m around. But… I…”

I was starting to question the nature of reality.

“Xiaodie, is this happiness… real?”

“If you believe it’s real, then it is,” she replied, turning to face me. “Yi Yao, you know I wasn’t always like this. But I’ve been trying to be a good girlfriend for you. I can be quite selfish.”

“You’re still selfish.”

“Don’t be mean! I’m trying to say that if a little bit of pretense can bring happiness to everyone, then it’s not such a bad thing. When my father was still alive, I had to play a different role. I wore fancy dresses, attended high-society events, spoke eloquently to strangers, and pretended to be a studious, frugal girl at home. It was all to maintain his public image. Isn’t that how the world works?”

She was right.

We were all living a lie, hiding behind masks.

Perhaps I just wasn’t used to pretending to be the daughter my parents wanted.

“Forget about that. Have you thought about which high school we should attend?”

“Isn’t it obvious? No. 1 or No. 5.”

“I don’t recommend those schools.”

“Why not?”

“We’ll lose our youth.”

“But everyone wants to go to those schools. They’re the best in the city.”

“The only reason to attend those schools is to increase our chances of getting into a good university. But if we’re guaranteed a place at a top university, regardless of which high school we attend, then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Are you saying you can guarantee us a place at a top university?”

“I can guarantee myself a place… As for you…” I chuckled, my gaze lingering on her. “I’m confident I can teach even a dummy like you to pass the entrance exams.”

“You!”

She punched me playfully in the chest. “Fine, you win. You decide which high school we go to.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Personally, I prefer No. 36 Middle School.”

No. 36, like No. 33, was a model high school in Upper Capital City, but it was the lowest-ranked among them.

I had chosen this school because of its reputation for extracurricular activities.

Anime conventions, art festivals, club activities, school festivals… they had it all.

No. 36 was the first school in Yixian Province to relax its rules regarding student behavior and appearance. Students were allowed to bring snacks to class, to use their phones and laptops, to order takeout instead of eating in the cafeteria. As long as it didn’t disrupt the learning environment, anything was permitted.

And most importantly, their uniforms were inspired by Japanese school uniforms, a stark contrast to the drab, standardized uniforms mandated by the city’s education bureau. The girls wore sailor uniforms and skirts, and there were no restrictions on hairstyles, as long as they weren’t dyed in outrageous colors or styled in a way that resembled the “funeral love family.”

And conveniently, No. 36 was relatively close to our apartment, making it easier to convince my father.

“No. 36? That… I…”

Xiaodie’s eyes widened. “My friend’s father is the principal there.”

“Seriously? Your friend is that well-connected?”

“I met her through the Jiangnan Association. If we go to that school, we could probably get in even with zero points on the entrance exams…”

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

“Yi Yao?”

My father’s voice. “Your brother is leaving. Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“Coming!”

I opened the door, catching Ziyang just as he was about to leave.

“Brother Mo!”

I rushed towards him, my cheeks flushed, and handed him my phone, its settings preconfigured. “C-can I have your QQ number?”

He blinked, surprised, then his face lit up. He typed his number into my phone.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, brother!”

I bowed, my voice a shy whisper. “Have a safe trip home!”

Then, like a lovestruck schoolgirl, I turned and fled back to my room.

“Hahaha! Yi Yao, you’re hilarious! If I didn’t know you, I would have fallen for that act,” Xiaodie said, pulling out her phone. “Come on, let’s take a picture for Weibo. I want to show everyone your adorable side.”

I reluctantly posed for the photo, flashing a peace sign.

“What are you going to do with his QQ number?”

“Mischief.”

“Huh?”

“Just watch,” I said, settling down at my computer. “Tonight will be a night he’ll never forget.”

No. 95 A Mirage of Neon Lights

My days fell into a predictable routine: school, homework, browsing computer science forums, playing games, chatting with Xiaodie, practicing Pai family martial arts. It was the typical life of a middle school student in Upper Capital City, a microcosm of adolescence across the country.

In some countries, school ended around 3 PM, allowing students ample time for extracurricular activities and hobbies.

But not in China.

Our students didn’t need such frivolous distractions. Academic excellence was paramount.

That was one reason why otaku culture was often frowned upon.

Spending your days immersed in anime, manga, and video games was considered less respectable than dedicating yourself to your studies.

And there was a clear distinction between male and female otaku.

I was fortunate. My homework rarely took more than an hour. Most of my classmates, however, spent their evenings hunched over their desks, leaving little time for anything else.

Was it any wonder the younger generation was becoming increasingly physically unfit?

“You really like Yoshino, don’t you?” my “stepbrother” observed, his gaze lingering on the Yoshino-themed decor that adorned my room.

“Um… well… she’s cute…” I replied, my legs swinging nervously.

It was painfully obvious.

My backpack, keychains, pillows, bedsheets, even my mousepad featured Yoshino. My room was painted in shades of blue and white, and I was wearing a Yoshino-inspired dress.

As one of the few loli characters in “Date A Live,” Yoshino was gentle, sweet, and unassuming, lacking the aggressive tendencies of her fellow Spirits. She was the embodiment of the ideal anime girlfriend.

But in reality, a girl with her personality, if married to a non-otaku, was likely to face infidelity.

An ordinary person might perceive her as demure and submissive, assuming she would tolerate any transgression.

But those familiar with otaku culture understood the appeal of such a personality, projecting their fantasies onto their real-life partners, finding pride and motivation in their idealized relationship.

It was the difference between trust and faith.

And trust, as I had learned, was often the root of heartbreak.

My Yoshino-inspired persona had successfully painted me as a harmless, even vulnerable, little sister in my “stepbrother’s” eyes.

His casual intrusion into my room on our first meeting was a clear indication of his lack of boundaries, his perception of me as someone he could easily manipulate.

Well, that was my intention all along. But a little harmless mischief before our inevitable confrontation wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Maybe I could plant a virus on his computer.

After all, my true favorite anime character was Nemurin from “Magical Girl Raising Project,” an anime that wouldn’t air for another four months.

“Hee hee, I think Yoshino is cute too,” he said, his voice eager.

The sounds of my father and Aunt Mo’s lovey-dovey banter and the sizzling of food drifted from the kitchen, filling the air with a tantalizing aroma.

“Um… yeah…”

“Have you ever been to a comic convention?”

“No…”

“Oh, right, you’re still in middle school. You must be a good student.”

“Yeah…”

Any further modesty would be arrogance.

“That’s great. I was a rebel when I was your age. Always skipping class to play games.”

He gazed out the window, his face illuminated by the setting sun, striking a dramatic pose.

“Everyone else at the internet cafe was playing games, but I was catching up on anime. And I paid the price. I only scored 300 points on the college entrance exams.”

That was a sad story indeed.

If I remembered correctly, he was attending Upper Capital College, a far cry from the prestigious Upper Capital University, despite the similarity in their names.

Upper Capital College, located in Jiangnan District, was known for its vast campus, filled with trees and flower gardens, a thirty-minute bike ride from our apartment.

He continued to ramble about his dreams, his aspirations, his perceived brilliance, until my father called us for dinner.

“Dinner’s ready. Let’s go,” he said, his voice filled with reluctance.

I couldn’t blame him. I was more knowledgeable and experienced than him, able to keep up with his every topic, fueling his delusion of finding a kindred spirit in his “little sister.”

“What do you think of your brother?” my father asked, beaming with pride, as we gathered around the dinner table.

“Um… I…”

I glanced at Ziyang shyly, then lowered my gaze. “He’s… very kind… He knows so much. I have a lot to learn from him.”

“Haha, I knew you two would get along.”

He piled food onto my plate. “Ziyang, your sister is a good girl, but she can be a bit spoiled. Keep an eye on her.”

“Of course, Uncle.”

My father’s words made him beam with pride.

He would probably brag about his “conquest” to his friends tonight.

Having a sister was a status symbol, a badge of honor among teenage boys.

“Oh, by the way, Yi Yao, Aunt Mo and I have been discussing your high school options. We’re thinking about sending you to No. 33 Middle School,” my father announced.

No. 33 Middle School?

The school where two students had committed suicide during military training in 2016?

Compared to No. 1 and No. 5 Middle School, No. 33 wasn’t particularly renowned for its academic achievements. It was a decent school, but it had only gained notoriety after the suicides.

I remembered those incidents. The first student had apparently committed suicide after an argument with his parents. The second one had been a mystery, the official explanation being an accidental fall from the dormitory building while hanging laundry.

The online forums had exploded with speculation, the school’s online forum flooded with concerned citizens demanding answers. But the school had never provided a satisfactory explanation.

“It’s closer to home. No. 1 and No. 5 are too far away. And we don’t want you to live in a dormitory. What do you think? Are you confident you can get in?”

No. 33 Middle School was less than a kilometer from our apartment. I could probably see the entire campus from our rooftop. It was a short bike ride away, a few minutes at most.

But why would my father choose that school?

It was the first time I had encountered a parent who preferred a less prestigious school for their child.

Was it because I was a girl?

“I’ll do my best,” I replied softly, my voice barely a whisper.

Getting into No. 33 wouldn’t be a challenge. But attending that school would drastically alter my future. New classmates, new teachers, a new environment.

“Bao Chao, your daughter is so adorable. She’s so well-mannered, even at the dinner table. How did you raise her?” Aunt Mo said, her voice laced with envy. “Our Ziyang is hopeless. He eats like a pig. No girl would ever want him.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t talk back to me! Look at your sister.”

“Haha, Ziyang is a boy. He doesn’t have to be so refined.”

I basked in their praise, my father beaming with pride. “Yi Yao is a good girl. I’m not worried about her finding a husband. Hahaha.”

I lowered my head, feigning shyness.

Seriously, Dad? You never noticed my good qualities before. You’re so obsessed with appearances…

Was I really a “good girl”? Both the original Yi Yao and I had caused you plenty of trouble.

If I hadn’t become the top student, you wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence, would you?

Our first major conflict had been that day he had inexplicably lashed out at me. Before that, I had been the perfect daughter, the obedient student, the model citizen. I never skipped class, I helped with chores, I went to bed on time, and while my grades weren’t always the best, I consistently ranked in the top ten.

Our relationship had deteriorated after my grades had slipped.

“When are you moving in?” my father asked Aunt Mo, his voice cheerful.

“Maybe this weekend. After I finish up some work. We don’t have much to move anyway.”

I almost choked on my food, but I managed to maintain my composure.

Moving in with us? So soon?

Dad, you were planning this all along, weren’t you? You were having an affair while Mom was still alive! All that talk about finding a new partner was just a charade, a way to avoid gossip from our relatives!

“Maybe Ziyang can move in first. He said he doesn’t like living in the dormitory,” my father suggested.

“Would that be too much trouble for Yi Yao?” Ziyang asked, his voice eager, but his concern for his “little sister” convincing.

“Of course not! We’re practically family now. Right, Yi Yao? Would you like your brother to live with us?”

“Of course!”

Welcome, dear onii-chan, to your inescapable fate.

No. 94 The Weakness of All Beings

“What’s your name?”

“Yi Yao…”

“Like the ‘Yao’ in ‘Qiong Yao’?”

“The ‘Yao’ in ‘distant’…”

” ‘Easy to shed tears of longing, hard to bear the pain of parting, gazing at the waterfall cascading from the distant cliffs.’ It’s a poetic name for a girl. I’m Mo Ziyang. The ‘Zi’ from Confucius, the ‘Yang’ from sunshine. I might be your older brother soon.”

The setting sun cast long shadows across the living room, illuminating the smiling face of the bespectacled boy seated across from me.

I maintained my carefully practiced posture, my cheeks flushed from recalling that night with Xiaodie, my demeanor a perfect imitation of a shy, awkward girl.

Despite my outward appearance, my mind was screaming with internal commentary.

A poetic name for a girl? What about for a boy? You never complimented me in my previous life…

“Um… yeah…”

“You don’t have to be so nervous. I’m not a bad guy… You know, you look so different from what I imagined. After seeing your photos and videos online, I thought you were… well, more… how do I say this… less refined.”

You could just say “tomboy.”

“Don’t… you like it?” I asked, glancing at him with a carefully crafted expression of disappointment.

“No, no, no! It’s not that… You’re adorable, really.”

My feigned sadness seemed to fluster him. He waved his hands frantically. “I’ve always wanted a little sister like you.”

I lowered my head, hiding my amusement.

Wang Cai had hacked into Mo Ziyang’s QQ account, analyzing his chat logs with friends and family. His conclusion: the “stepbrother” was anxious about our potential incompatibility but eager to connect with his anime-loving “sister.”

After all, a brother and a sister were different creatures.

In a conversation with a university friend, his concerns had been evident:

ForAiriBronze: I’m meeting my mom’s new boyfriend tonight. She wants me to call him “Dad.”

HuskyChick: That’s a sad story, bro.

ForAiriBronze: Not really. My parents divorced when I was little. I don’t have any feelings for my biological father.

HuskyChick: So what’s the problem?

ForAiriBronze: He has a daughter. I’m getting a stepsister.

HuskyChick: Whoa, congrats, man! Stepsisters are better than real sisters. You’re winning at life.

ForAiriBronze: Not really. You see, this stepsister… she’s kind of famous online. She’s a straight-A student, a taekwondo black belt, and a total badass. No one messes with her.

HuskyChick: Sounds awesome!

ForAiriBronze: That’s why I’m freaking out. You know I hate tsunderes and tomboys. What if she’s like that? I can’t even fight back. And if my mom marries this guy, I’m screwed.

HuskyChick: Don’t believe everything you read online. I posted online that you’re an idiot.

ForAiriBronze: You’re such a jerk.

HuskyChick: Come on, man, be grateful! You’re getting a little sister! You want a brother instead? I’m so jealous.

ForAiriBronze: A brother would be easy. Just ignore him and he’ll go away. But a sister? That’s a whole different level of responsibility.

HuskyChick: Dude, stop bragging about your sister or I’m blocking you.

ForAiriBronze: Okay, okay. Wish me luck. I hope I can make a good first impression.

Thanks to those chat logs, I knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was hoping for.

“So, Yi Yao, what was the first anime you ever watched?” he asked, breaking the silence, leaning closer.

His enthusiasm was startling. Was this the same quiet, reserved boy from my previous life?

“Um… I think it was… ‘Shakugan no Shana’…”

” ‘Shakugan no Shana’?”

I nodded.

“Really? Why that one?”

“I… I thought Shana was cool when she fought.”

I stuck out my tongue playfully, my voice filled with mock admiration. “If I could be as strong as her, my dad wouldn’t have to worry about me so much.”

Creating a idealized version of myself, a personality similar to Yoshino’s.

This was a critical hit, I was sure of it.

“So that’s why you started training in martial arts?”

“Yeah…”

Wow, I totally misjudged her—that’s what you’re thinking, right, dear onii-chan?

“But… you don’t look like you’ve ever trained in martial arts.” He glanced at my legs, their smooth, unblemished skin visible beneath my sundress. “You look like a normal, cute little sister.”

Martial arts training didn’t necessarily result in bulging muscles. Yi Yao had focused on agility and technique, not brute strength. And her taekwondo training had included tai chi, which emphasized grace and fluidity.

But I had to admit, her physique was exceptional.

No matter how much she sweat, how intensely she trained, her legs remained slender and toned, her skin fair and unblemished. She wasn’t particularly curvy, but her figure was undeniably attractive.

“Hee hee, I’m still clumsy,” I said, playing dumb, scratching my head awkwardly. “I have a lot to learn. I need to work harder…”

Diligent, humble, eager to learn.

You like perfection? I can be whatever you want me to be.

“Yi Yao!”

My father called out from the kitchen. “Can you go to the fruit stand and get a bottle of soy sauce? We’re running low.”

“O-okay!”

I jumped up from the sofa, bowed to my “brother,” and hurried towards the door, my new crystal sandals clicking against the floor.

My father’s fruit stand had recently reopened after a brief closure. It was located in a nearby shopping district.

He often cooked at the stand when he was too busy to come home, so he kept a supply of cooking ingredients there.

The streets were deserted as I made my way to the fruit stand, most people busy preparing dinner. The employee, Da Hui, was lounging on a pile of pineapples, engrossed in his phone.

“Um…”

I forgot to switch back to my usual persona, my voice a soft whisper.

“Huh?” He looked up. “Can I help you, little girl?”

“A bottle of soy sauce…”

“Soy sauce?”

He stared at me, dumbfounded, then pointed at the sign above the shop. “This is a fruit stand. We don’t sell soy sauce.”

“Oh… I, um, sorry.”

I snapped out of character. “Da Hui, it’s me, Yi Yao.”

“You’re Yi Yao?”

He scrutinized me, his jaw slack. “Wow, I’ve never seen you dressed like this. What’s the occasion? Got a boyfriend?”

“No…”

I ignored him, entering the back room and grabbing an unopened bottle of soy sauce.

“I’ll be going now.”

“You look great, by the way,” he called out as I left. “You’re already pretty, but with a little effort, you could be a goddess. Just standing here would attract customers.”

Is that so?

His words triggered a moment of introspection.

So much of this world was artificial.

The shop assistant’s smile was fake, but it made customers feel welcome.

The boss’s words of encouragement were insincere, but they motivated employees.

So girls had to learn to wear makeup, to dress up, to present a curated version of themselves, to bring happiness to others… Right?

If everyone embraced this artificiality, if they never expressed anger or resentment, if they always wore a mask of happiness, wouldn’t that lead to a harmonious society?

Everyone wearing a mask, their left hand holding a knife, their right hand extended in a gesture of friendship.

“I’m back…”

I entered the apartment, slipping back into my “little sister” persona, and handed the soy sauce to my father in the kitchen.

Mo Ziyang was gone.

I knew where to find him.

As expected, he was in my room, his eyes wide with fascination as he admired the anime posters on my walls.

Entering a girl’s room without permission? Such a bad onii-chan.

“S-sorry…”

I rushed towards him, flustered, as if he had caught me doing something embarrassing. I closed the lid of the half-eaten container of dried plums on my desk and shoved it into a drawer.

“I was in a hurry after school… I didn’t have time to clean… It’s a bit messy…”

A perfectly tidy room would raise suspicions. A few strategically placed snacks and a hint of disarray created a more realistic, less contrived image. And if he happened to enjoy snacks, it would add to my “cute little foodie” appeal.

Did university students like snacks? Of course they did. They had the most free time of any demographic, their days filled with classes, gaming sessions, and endless boredom. Those who didn’t pick up smoking often developed a fondness for snacks.

“It’s not messy. It’s cute for a girl to be a little messy.”

He gestured towards my meticulously decorated desk and bed, his voice filled with curiosity. “Do you spend a lot of time at home?”

“Not always,” I replied, settling down on my bed, my legs swinging nervously. “But… I don’t have many friends. If I go out, it’s usually just for a walk…”

Hinting at my loneliness, my lack of a boyfriend, further reinforcing the image of a semi-otaku.

And it was true.

I had very few friends.

No. 93 Wearing a Mask, Shaking Your Hand

The scorching June sun had turned Upper Capital City into a furnace, making short sleeves a necessity for survival.

The fortunate souls who had completed the college entrance exams were either embarking on their journeys to the bustling metropolises of Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, seeking employment opportunities, or reveling in their newfound freedom, indulging in endless entertainment.

For us ninth-graders, however, the relaxed school regulations, allowing for casual attire, offered little respite from the oppressive heat. Most of my classmates had switched to shorts and T-shirts, while a few fashion-conscious girls dared to wear skirts.

But even those concessions couldn’t dispel the stifling heat that greeted us every time we entered the classroom.

It was the same at home. Only my father’s room had an air conditioner, forcing me to wear skirts even though I despised them.

There was another reason for my sartorial choices.

My “stepbrother” was coming.

After a week of subtle probing, lavish gifts, and even an expensive phone from “Aunt Mo,” my father had finally announced that they would be joining us for dinner the following evening.

I had feigned reluctant acceptance, my heart pounding with anticipation.

I had been preparing for this moment for weeks, my efforts unnoticed by my oblivious father.

Yi Yao hadn’t been fond of skirts, but I had spent the past week parading around the house in sundresses and various other feminine attire—thigh-highs, cute hair accessories, bracelets, even girly slippers—to acclimate my father to my new persona.

I had also transformed myself into the “dutiful daughter,” diligently performing household chores, eating slowly and gracefully, speaking softly, and smiling frequently, projecting an image of a shy, delicate girl.

For the sake of this elaborate charade, I had even watched the entire “Date A Live” anime, memorizing Yoshino’s mannerisms and speech patterns.

My father, blinded by his newfound romantic bliss, hadn’t questioned my sudden transformation, praising my maturity, my filial piety, even my improved appearance.

Humans were suckers for fabricated happiness.

Sincere devotion rarely triumphed over calculated manipulation. And this time, I was using both.

“6:10 PM. Still enough time.”

I returned home from school, placing my custom-made, Yoshino-themed sky-blue backpack on the bed. I removed my uniform, folded it neatly, and retrieved a white dress with pink trim from my closet.

A crucial element of the perfect anime girl was a clean and organized room, especially when it came to clothes—except for characters like Umaru, of course.

This dress was technically a cosplay, replicating an outfit Yoshino had worn several times in the anime, complete with a matching sun hat adorned with a pink bow. But the design and color were subtle enough to pass as ordinary clothing to the untrained eye.

Okay… This should be good enough. Just need to brush my hair.

I stared at my reflection, marveling at the transformative power of makeup and styling.

There was no trace of the “gangster boss,” the “taekwondo champion,” the “tough girl” I had once been. Just a cute, slightly androgynous girl.

I clipped a cherry-shaped hair clip to my hair, washed my face, and returned to my room, noticing a message from my “priority contact.”

“How’s it going? Are you following my instructions?”

Xiaodie’s profile picture was a loli version of Kurumi Tokisaki. We had agreed to use anime profile pictures, mine being Yoshino, to convince her stepbrother that I was a hardcore otaku.

“Just so you know, if you come over and my stepbrother is here, I’m going to stay in character. Don’t get jealous.”

I settled down on the bed, my phone resting on my lap, and typed my reply.

“Oh my, your emotional intelligence is still so low,” she responded, adding a winking emoji.

“Wouldn’t you do the same? Just imagine, cute little Yi Yao, reluctantly playing the role of the shy little sister, her voice soft and sweet, wearing an apron as she serves you homemade treats, blushing as she says, ‘Xiaodie onee-sama, please try my strawberry pudding.’ It’s so exciting…”

“What are you excited about?!”

I couldn’t resist sending a voice message, my exasperation evident.

“See? You lost your composure again. Be ladylike, Yi Yao. Remember, you’re a shy little loli. No swearing…”

Loli my ass! You’re the one who looks like a little girl!

I was about to retort when I heard the front door opening.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I typed quickly, deleting our conversation and tossing my phone into my backpack. I pulled out a textbook and pretended to be studying diligently.

“She should be home by now. She’s a good girl, never stays out late after school.”

“Yi Yao?”

My father’s voice echoed from the living room.

“Yes, Dad,” I replied, my voice soft and sweet.

I slipped on my bunny slippers and walked out of my room.

As expected, my father wasn’t alone. A woman in her forties and a tall, skinny boy, probably a university student, stood beside him.

The boy’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me, as if he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure.

“This is Aunt Mo, and this is your brother, Mo Ziyang,” my father said, beaming with pride, pulling me towards them.

“A-Aunt Mo…”

I glanced at them shyly, then quickly lowered my gaze, my cheeks flushing.

“Brother Mo…”

The word “cute” was often associated with small, delicate things. By lowering my head, I emphasized my petite frame, projecting an image of vulnerability and helplessness, triggering their protective instincts, boosting their affection points.

“She’s a good girl, just a little shy,” my father said, either to impress them or because he genuinely enjoyed this new, submissive version of me.

“She’s adorable,” Aunt Mo said, patting my head, her smile a carefully constructed mask.

“Come in, come in. We’re practically family now. Make yourselves at home.”

My father took their bags and turned to me. “Yi Yao, why don’t you get your brother a glass of water?”

“O-okay!”

I bowed politely, then spun around and hurried towards the water dispenser, deliberately “slipping” on the polished floor in the middle of the living room.

“Careful!”

“Thud!”

I landed on my back, my carefully planned “accident” a success. I had even sprinkled some water on the floor for added realism.

A classic anime girl trope—the clumsy fall.

“Ow…”

I scrambled to my feet, my cheeks burning, and filled a disposable cup with water. By the time I turned around, “brother” Mo Ziyang was already seated on the sofa.

“Why don’t you two chat for a bit? Aunt Mo and I will prepare dinner. Ziyang, be nice to your sister. She’s just shy around strangers. She’s actually quite outgoing once you get to know her.”

Shy around strangers? You’re delusional!

My father, without a hint of concern for my well-being, disappeared into the kitchen with Aunt Mo, leaving me alone with my “stepbrother.”

“Sure, no problem,” Ziyang replied, his voice eager.

He was practically giddy with excitement.

“Here you go…”

I handed him the cup of water, carefully observing his reactions as I settled down beside him, my legs crossed demurely, my gaze lowered, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

“Relax, I’m not going to bite,” he said, his voice slightly strained, his demeanor awkward.

He was clearly inexperienced with girls.

“Do you like anime?” he asked, his gaze lingering on my dress as he took a sip of water.

“Y-yes,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

Even I was surprised by how convincingly shy I sounded.

“Great! Me too!”

He set down his cup, his eyes widening with excitement. “What kind of anime do you like?”

“I… I don’t know… I just… watch whatever.”

Most girls couldn’t differentiate between anime genres, so I simply played dumb.

Be shy, Yi Yao. Remember, you’re shy.

Despite my mental pep talk, I couldn’t conjure up any genuine shyness towards this clueless geek.

Desperate, I forced myself to recall that night with Xiaodie, the intimacy of our embrace, the warmth of her skin against mine. My cheeks flushed, my body tingling with a phantom sensation.

“Your dress… it’s from ‘Date A Live.’ That’s a harem anime,” he said, his voice gaining confidence as he discussed his interests.

“And ‘Non Non Biyori’ is a slice-of-life anime.”

Was he always this talkative?

In my previous life, my relationship with my stepbrother had been strained, our interactions limited to a few perfunctory exchanges.

Our first meeting had been similar to this, but the conversation had been decidedly less enthusiastic.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

“…”

“Are you in ninth grade?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great. I’m in university.”

“Oh.”

“…”

A far cry from this sudden burst of camaraderie.

And for the next few years, our daily conversations had rarely exceeded ten words. He had always seemed aloof, distant, retreating into his room after dinner to immerse himself in his games and anime, his true personality a mystery.

“I guess… I watch a lot of… harem anime…” I said, forcing a shy smile.

“Really?”

He set down his cup, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “What’s your favorite?”

“‘Date A Live.’”

“Who’s your favorite character? Is it Yoshino?”

“It’s pronounced ‘Shiori,’ not ‘Yoshino.’”(Similar Pron in Chinese)

“Same difference.”

“It’s not the same!” I pouted, my voice laced with mock indignation.

He was testing me, I was sure of it.

No true fan would tolerate a mispronounced name. He was gauging my sincerity, my dedication to the anime and the character.

Well…

Two can play this game.

No. 92 To Make Those Flowers Bloom, No Matter How Many Times

Mo Rong, born in 1966, graduated from Upper Capital University in 1990. In 1992, she transitioned from fashion design to animal husbandry, where she met her future husband, Qin Guomao, her supervisor. They fell in love quickly, married in June 1994, and had a son, Mo Ziyang. In 1999, they divorced due to her husband’s gambling addiction. She never remarried.

Mo Ziyang, born on April 1st, 1995, is currently studying automotive repair at Upper Capital College. He has a small social circle and average grades. He was once given a warning for skipping twenty classes.

I stared at the two thick stacks of documents before me, a sense of disbelief washing over me. We were in the server room of the Upper Capital City branch of the Queen Bee hacker alliance.

“He likes anime, enjoys spicy hot pot, has never had a girlfriend, uses the online alias ‘Bronze for Airi,’ mostly browses harem, overpowered protagonist, and otaku-themed anime and novels. According to our data analysis, his favorite anime are ‘To Love-Ru,’ ‘The World God Only Knows,’ and ‘Date A Live’…”

“On February 1st, 2016, Mo Ziyang posted online seeking help with earning elective course credits… On March 7th, 2016, during a power outage at Upper Capital College, he and his roommates spent three hours playing League of Legends at an internet cafe, achieving a triple kill with Riven…”

“What is all this?”

I set down the documents, my voice a mixture of amusement and exasperation, turning to Wang Cai, the young hacker who had greeted me on my first visit.

“Well… Little Bee, you asked us to be thorough,” he replied sheepishly.

“But this is ridiculous!” I held up a report. “You even know when he went to the bathroom and how many League of Legends matches he played. Don’t you care about wasting paper?”

Wang Cai chuckled. “We wanted to make sure you were satisfied. And you know how important that password is to us.”

“Yeah… I’ve never investigated anyone this thoroughly in my entire life,” Zhui Feng, the sunglasses-clad hacker, said, swiveling in his chair to face me. “Just tell us the password, Little Bee.”

I smiled. “I already sent it to your email.”

He blinked. “You even know my email address?”

“I can crack the administrator account of the US government’s website. Your personal email was child’s play.”

“My god, you’re a genius!”

He eagerly turned back to his computer, copied the long string of characters from his email into his sniffing tool, and stared at the screen, his jaw slack as the data streamed past.

“Our entire alliance spent six months trying to crack ‘Glacier,’ one of the most secure servers in the world, and you just… If you don’t mind me asking, how long did it take you?”

“Three hours,” I replied casually, still skimming through the documents.

“Seriously.”

I looked at him, confused. “Maybe… two hours and forty minutes? I don’t remember the exact time.”

His mug slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor.

“Not… two days? Or a week?”

“Come on, I’m still in middle school. I have to study. My dad wouldn’t let me spend that much time on the computer.” I set down the documents. “Did you print all this?”

“I… You…” He stammered, his eyes wide with admiration. “Boss, please be my master. I’m in awe. You’re not just a genius, you’re a prodigy.”

“We’re practically family. Your compliments mean nothing to me.”

I walked over and smacked him on the head with a stack of papers. “Did you print all this?”

“Yes.”

“And you gathered all this information?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Then you must remember these two people, right?”

“Vaguely.”

“Perfect. I’m too lazy to read all this. I’ll just ask you directly.”

I tossed the documents aside. “When is Mo Rong planning to get married?”

“According to my research, within the next few months. Her fiancé’s name is Yi… Yi something…”

“Besides getting married, does she have any other plans?”

“I couldn’t find anything. No one posts that kind of information online. And she doesn’t even have a Qzone account. I’m a hacker, not a gossip columnist.”

“And her son, Mo Ziyang. What kind of girls does he like? Can you find that information?”

“You’ll have to ask Wang Cai. He compiled that data.”

I turned to Wang Cai, who had been staring at us with a strange expression.

“What are you up to, Little Bee? That guy isn’t exactly boyfriend material. You’re better off with me!”

“Shut up. I’m not interested in either of you. I just want to know what kind of girls he likes.”

“Well… have you seen ‘Date A Live’?”

“I’ve seen a few episodes.”

“He likes girls like Yoshino. Shy, innocent, and adorable.”

“A lolicon? A siscon?”

“Definitely a lolicon. But I’m not sure about the siscon part… Oh, and he’s obsessed with white stockings. He’s level 11 in the White Stockings Bar… Man, I’m starting to feel creepy. I spent an entire week stalking this guy, analyzing his interests, his fetishes, his sexual orientation. I’m not even gay.”

I ignored his rambling. “Is that all?”

“You want specifics? Okay, he hates tsunderes. He prefers shy, clumsy, and airheaded girls who are also good at housework, sports, and academics. He once posted a rant about how unrealistic tsundere characters are in real life. I remember replying with a picture of a mirror and the caption, ‘Take a good look at yourself, buddy.’”

“You…” I struggled to contain my laughter. “You guys should be detectives.”

“Your rewards were too tempting. The administrator password for a secure server and access to the Tianhuo forum’s internal database.” He rolled his eyes, then took a sip of water. “You know, I discovered something this week. Stalking people is surprisingly addictive. If you need anything else, I’m your guy. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied.”

“No thanks. We have exams coming up. You might have time for this, but I don’t.”

I selected a few important documents, folded them neatly, and tucked them into the hidden pocket in my shorts, the one I usually used for my weaponized playing cards. “I’m going now. Contact me on QQ if you need anything.”

“Farewell, boss.”

I left the server room, taking the elevator to the ground floor, where Xiaodie was waiting for me.

“How did it go?” she asked, her face brightening as I approached her.

“Yoshino,” I replied, my voice flat.

“What?”

“He likes shy, clumsy girls who are good at everything.” I tugged at her ahoge playfully. “The ‘good at everything’ part isn’t a problem, but ‘shy’ isn’t exactly my forte. Seriously, Xiaodie, are we really going to this much trouble for this guy?”

“I told you, it’s just to help you develop your feminine side.” She swatted my hand away, then her eyes lit up with curiosity. “What about his mother? Did you find anything?”

“Yes. She’s a typical career woman, no connection to the underworld. Probably just a business partner of my uncle.”

I paused. “My dad’s wedding is approaching. They might move in with us before then. What are you going to do?”

Our apartment was modest, barely middle-class. It was a three-bedroom unit, purchased at a discount from a relative. It was fine for the two of us, but if her “brother” moved in, I couldn’t expect Xiaodie to keep sharing my bed.

“I’ll just go back to my house,” she replied casually.

“Won’t you be lonely?”

“I’ve always lived alone. And now I have Xiaobai. And you. We don’t have to see each other every day.”

She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Unless you want to…”

I felt my cheeks burning. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I understand. It’s been a while since that night…”

“It’s only been two days!” I interrupted her. “Stop thinking about such things! And did you tell the Jiangnan Association what I asked you to?”

“Yes, I told them. They said they’ll be careful.”

Sensing the stares of passersby, she pulled my baseball cap over my head. “Come on, let’s go shopping for clothes.”

“Didn’t we just go shopping yesterday?”

“That was for me. This is for you. It’s different.” She smiled. “Besides, a proper little sister needs a cute wardrobe to capture a geek’s heart. And we need to redecorate your room. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right.”

“It’s not like we’re going to war!”

“…”

I spent the rest of the day shopping with Xiaodie, our arms laden with bags filled with clothes, furniture, and accessories.

Skirts, blouses, sundresses, thigh-highs, striped socks, and an assortment of otaku-themed merchandise—mousepads, backpacks, bedsheets, curtains, even mugs. By the time we returned home, I was ready to collapse.

But as Xiaodie had promised, my room, after a thorough cleaning and redecoration, looked more inviting, more feminine.

It resembled a typical anime girl’s bedroom.

Same person, different environment, a subtle shift that somehow felt… comforting.

“See, Yi Yao? You can be quite the adorable little sister if you tone down the aggression,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, after forcing me into a sundress and thigh-highs.

I glared at her, my soul weary. “I’d rather fight the Gathering Hall.”

“…”

No. 91 A Poem of War

I sat on a small chair in a lavishly decorated room, calmly observing the group of men huddled around a table, their brows furrowed as they scrutinized the documents I had provided.

After a long silence, one of the men tossed the papers aside with a dismissive snort.

“Hmph, I thought it was something important. Turns out it’s just a bunch of kids playing gangster.”

He stood up, towering over me, his gaze condescending. “You’re Yi Yao, right? You’ve got guts, kid. Do you even know where you are?”

I glanced around the room, its ostentatious decor screaming “nouveau riche.” “The meeting room of the Upper Capital City branch of ‘Zero,’ Yixian Province’s largest assassination organization, established in 1993.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette. “You know we’re assassins, yet you’re not afraid?”

I smiled politely. “Bullets cost money.”

“Who said anything about bullets?”

He pulled out a switchblade, pressing the tip against my throat. “I don’t believe a middle school student could infiltrate our headquarters alone. Where are your accomplices?”

A large hand gently pushed the blade away.

“Shang,” the owner of the hand said, his voice a low growl, “we’ve scanned the area. She’s alone. Unless her people are better than us.”

“Tch.”

The man called Shang sheathed his knife, his voice laced with frustration. “I just don’t get it. How can she be so calm in front of us? When I was sixteen, I was still serving coffee to those snobby bastards.”

“I remember…”

The man in the suit, who seemed to be the leader, set down the documents he had been reading. “We received a contract on you once.”

I nodded. “That’s correct.”

“We failed.”

“That’s correct.”

“We lost several of our best men.”

“That’s correct.”

Eaten by a tiger, no less. And you let your target escape. That’s probably a first for Zero.

“You’re not afraid of retribution?”

“If you truly wanted me dead, I’d be dead already, wouldn’t I?”

A professional assassination organization wouldn’t be swayed by personal grudges.

A failed mission was a failure, nothing more. They would punish the operatives involved, not the target. And targeting a sixteen-year-old girl because of a failed mission would be a disgrace, a stain on their reputation.

That was the difference between them and ordinary gangsters. Hua She and his friends might act impulsively, driven by misguided loyalty. Assassins, however, were motivated by profit and efficiency.

“You’d be surprised,” the man in the suit said, his voice smooth and dangerous. “My loyal men might decide to avenge their fallen brothers. Without my knowledge, of course.”

“Loyalty isn’t earned through emotions,” I said, my voice steady. “It’s bought.”

“Oh?”

He smiled, intrigued. “Tell me, why are you here? Considering your age and your courage, we’ll grant you three minutes. And we promise not to harm you.”

“It’s simple.”

I picked up the document he had discarded. “Upper Capital City is a powder keg right now. The underworld is in chaos, the authorities are corrupt. But this fragile balance won’t last forever. According to my intel, the group across the river is planning a large-scale attack on our city.”

“An attack?”

He frowned. “What kind of attack?”

“They intend to destroy it.”

His hand trembled, spilling tea from his cup.

“Are you kidding me? You think we’re idiots? Those pathetic losers across the river have already been crushed by the authorities,” Shang scoffed, slamming his fist on the table. “Hei Gou, stop wasting our time with this child. Throw her out.”

“Hold on.” The man in the suit waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s hear her out. I like this girl.”

“I’ve investigated them thoroughly.” I pulled out a stack of neatly organized documents from my folder and handed them to him. “They call themselves the Gathering Hall. Most of them are descendants of the victims from the old city. They have four branches: Dark, Shadow, Glory, and Fierce. But they present themselves as a single entity, ‘Shadow.’ The group that was recently taken down by the special task force was just a small fraction of their true strength. They’re still out there.”

His curiosity piqued, he set down his teacup and took the documents.

“This…”

He scanned the pages, his eyes widening in surprise. “You even managed to get this information?”

I smiled faintly. “Naturally. We have our own intelligence network. And I also know that you’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked up, his face a mask of shock.

I walked towards an elderly man sitting in a corner and bowed respectfully. “I propose an alliance. The DK Black Dragon Society, the Jiangnan Association, and Zero. We join forces to cleanse the underworld of Upper Capital City and eliminate the Gathering Hall. What do you say, Jesus?”

This unassuming old man was the true leader of Zero.

He had built his empire on arms dealing, a notorious figure in the Golden Triangle, now living a quiet, unassuming life in Upper Capital City. A relic from a bygone era.

His past exploits were legendary, but I hadn’t had time to delve into his history. Nor was I interested.

My only goal was to secure a safe and happy future for Xiaodie.

If Upper Capital City couldn’t provide that, then I would conquer it and offer it to her as a gift.

“The youth of today…”

He sighed, shaking his head, then slowly rose from his chair. “Yi Yao, is it? I’ll remember that name. If my daughter were still alive, she would be your age.”

Despite his advanced age, his eyes, sharp and piercing like an eagle’s, sent a shiver down my spine.

“We can help you deal with the Gathering Hall, but we need an incentive. I have to answer to my men. And as you know, I’m not the only one in charge. If things go south, we might be forced to abandon this city.”

I nodded. “Money is not a problem. If they can put a price on my head, I can certainly do the same to them.”

He picked up the document he had dropped. “But how do you intend to prove that you have the resources to hire Zero?”

“Have you heard of the Ace of Spades?”

The document slipped from his grasp, his eyes widening. “He’s… alive?”

I simply smiled. “The DK is backed by the Pai family.”

“Hahaha! No wonder… no wonder… I never imagined…” He turned to his men. “Hei Gou, do as she asks.”

“Yes, sir.”

His orders were absolute. Hei Gou, the man in the suit, rushed to his side, his demeanor respectful. “Teacher, be careful…”

The old man paused at the door, his back to me, as if about to say something. He sighed, then disappeared into the hallway.

“Hmph, you’re not just cute, little girl. You’re also quite perceptive,” Shang grumbled, settling down on the floor. “What’s the plan? We’re all ears.”

I exhaled, the tension that had been building within me finally releasing. The plan was working.

“This is just a preliminary meeting. We’ll lie low for a few months, gather more intel on the Gathering Hall, and then strike.”

“More intel?”

Hei Gou almost fell off his chair, gesturing towards the stack of documents. “What is all this then?”

“Intel. Everything from their family members to their current locations and activities.”

“And how much more ‘intel’ do you need? Your network is impressive.”

Of course it’s impressive. I have the best hacker alliance in the country backing me up.

“We need more time. And so do you. Use this time to prepare.”

I left Zero’s headquarters, stepping out into the midday sun.

I didn’t relax until I reached a crowded street, where they couldn’t easily follow me.

My hands were clammy with sweat.

Dealing with those people was exhausting, a constant test of my willpower.

“Hahaha! Yi Yao, you did it! I knew you could!”

Pai Ge materialized beside me, his smug grin infuriating. “Those old fogies didn’t give you too much trouble, did they?”

I flung a playing card at his face. “No. Now go away.”

He had promised to meet me outside Zero’s headquarters, but he had vanished. I had never realized how unreliable he could be.

“Haha, it’s not my fault. There were too many dangerous people there. I couldn’t get close. I had to retreat.”

So you abandoned me because it was too dangerous?

I glared at him. “Buy me a new phone.”

After dinner with Xiaodie the previous night, I had attempted to hack into Zero’s servers, discovering that their leader was an old friend of Pai Ge’s uncle. The deeper I dug, the more unsettling the connections became.

Our original plan was for Pai Ge and me to approach Zero, but he had abandoned me at the last minute, forcing me to handle it alone.

“Okay, okay. iPhone 6 or 7?” he asked, his voice placating.

I shook my head. “Samsung Note 7.”