Lin Yao didn't slow his steps.
His hand quietly slid to his waist, feeling for the military dagger hidden there.
The triangular dagger was wrapped in a non-slip grip, heavy and steady in his palm.
He deliberately turned into an even narrower back alley off Carnarvon Road.
Streetlights cast mottled shadows against the walls.
Footsteps echoed in the alley, and the breathing behind him drew closer and closer.
Bang!
A gunshot suddenly exploded.
The bullet skimmed past Lin Yao's ear and slammed into the brick wall.
Using the recoil to his advantage, he dropped low and lunged like a leopard toward a stack of wooden crates on the right.
The second shot struck the crates instantly, splinters flying.
"Damn it, missed!"
"Fuck his mother—"
"What kind of shit aim is that? You call yourself a sharpshooter?!"
Crude curses echoed through the alley in a thick Fujian accent.
Three burly men with guns moved in, black muzzles trained on the shadow behind the crates.
At that moment, Lin Yao suddenly flipped the crates over, hurling cans and scraps straight at the nearest gunman's face.
The man instinctively raised his arm to block—
and Lin Yao was already on him.
The dagger whistled through the air and slammed into the man's wrist.
Crack!
A crisp snap—
the gun fell from numb fingers.
"Ah—!"
The gunman screamed, but Lin Yao didn't stop.
His knee smashed into the man's lower abdomen.
With his left hand, Lin Yao locked the man's neck and dragged him in front of himself.
The bullets fired by the two behind punched straight into their companion's back.
Blood sprayed across Lin Yao's shoulder.
The remaining two panicked.
Lin Yao seized the moment, shoving the corpse toward one of them.
At the same time, he scooped up the pistol from the ground and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet struck the man square in the chest.
He cried out and collapsed.
The last gunman turned to run.
Lin Yao flicked his wrist, sending the dagger flying—
it buried itself precisely in the back of the man's head.
He staggered two steps and dropped dead.
Lin Yao stepped forward, the dagger pressed straight against the remaining man's throat.
"Talk. Who sent you?"
"It—it was someone called Hun Jianglong… he paid us two hundred thousand…"
Bang!
Before the words even finished leaving his mouth, Lin Yao fired.
Since he already knew it was Hun Jianglong, that was enough.
Only after confirming all three were completely dead did Lin Yao exhale and holster the gun.
He wiped the blood from his face, pulled out his brick-sized phone, and dialed A-Bu.
"A-Bu. Back alley off Carnarvon Road. Three. Clean it up."
On the other end, A-Bu didn't ask questions, only replied calmly:
"Understood. Ten minutes. Tools ready."
Lin Yao picked up the modified pistol from the ground and said:
"No traces. Seal the bodies in cement, find a boat, dump them in international waters.
Bring only people you trust. Not a single sound leaks out."
"Don't worry, Brother Yao. I know."
After hanging up, Lin Yao leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.
A few minutes later, hurried footsteps echoed down the alley.
A-Bu arrived with five men dressed in black, each carrying black waterproof sheets and iron hooks.
Two of them were hauling heavy sacks of wet cement.
"Brother Yao, are you hurt?"
A-Bu stepped forward. When he saw the blood on Lin Yao's shoulder, his eyes instantly hardened.
"I'm fine."
Lin Yao pointed at the bodies on the ground.
"Move fast. Don't let anyone notice the blood."
A-Bu nodded and waved his hand.
"Wrap them up, load them into the truck. Old warehouse by the pier—there's ready-mix cement there."
"Yes!"
The men moved quickly, bundling the bodies and carrying them toward the cargo truck outside the alley.
A-Bu stayed behind, scrubbing the ground with cleaning solution, not even sparing the blood splashed in the cracks.
Lin Yao didn't linger.
He continued toward the apartment.
Five minutes later.
When Lin Yao pushed open the apartment door, warm yellow light spilled out, carrying the faint scent of lemon cleaner.
A brand-new leather sofa sat neatly in the living room.
Freshly brewed black tea rested on the coffee table.
Zhang Linyu was on the balcony tidying the curtains, dressed in a cream-colored lounge outfit that draped softly over her shoulders.
Hearing the sound, she turned her head—
still holding half the curtain tie.
"Brother Yao, you're back!"
She stood up at once, subconsciously smoothing her hair.
Her gaze swept over the bloodstain on his shoulder.
Her pupils shrank sharply.
"Ah!! Y-you're bleeding! Did something happen?!"
Making a mountain out of a molehill.
Lin Yao closed the door behind him, casually tossed his bloodstained jacket into the laundry basket by the entrance, and spoke lightly, as if commenting on the evening moon:
"It's nothing. Just a small hassle. Already dealt with."
He didn't mention the gunfire in the alley,
nor the three bodies soon to sink into the sea.
His long legs carried him into the living room.
His eyes swept over the spotless floor, the neatly arranged wardrobe,
and finally settled on Zhang Linyu's reddened ears.
It was obvious—
she'd put real effort into this.
A small succulent sat on the desk, tender green shoots full of life.
Zhang Linyu grew flustered under his gaze.
She clutched the curtain tie and took half a step back, speaking softly:
"Th-then, Brother Yao, you rest first… I'll finish up on the balcony and… and head out. I won't disturb you."
She said she was leaving,
but her feet didn't move.
Her eyes betrayed her, glued to Lin Yao.
He had just taken off his jacket.
The black, tight-fitting tank top hugged his solid muscles.
The bloodstain at his collarbone hadn't been wiped clean—
instead, it added a wild, dangerous edge.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She wanted to leave—
but also wanted to stay.
Even just to hear him say, "You've worked hard."
The conflict drained her courage to even lift her head.
Lin Yao didn't give her time to struggle.
He stepped forward suddenly and wrapped an arm around her waist.
His palm pressed against her soft waistline.
Zhang Linyu froze.
"Ah!"
She gasped, her body tensing as she flailed instinctively, trying to push him away.
Her fingers bumped into his firm chest—
and recoiled as if burned.
She could clearly smell the faint scent of tobacco on him,
mixed with a trace of blood.
She should have been scared—
but her heart pounded like it was about to explode,
all strength draining from her resistance.
"Leave?"
Lin Yao lowered his head, fingers lazily tracing her side, his tone casual yet domineering.
"You rented the place. You cleaned it up.
Now I'm back—
and you want to leave?"
Her face flushed crimson, heat spreading from her ears down her neck.
Even her breathing turned ragged.
"I—I'm afraid of disturbing you…"
"Afraid of disturbing me, yet you made the place this comfortable?"
Lin Yao chuckled softly, pinching her cheek.
"What are you dodging?"
She looked up at him suddenly,撞进 his deep, dark eyes.
There was no mockery there.
No condescension.
Only undisguised possession—
and it made her feel inexplicably safe.
She wanted to protest, "I'm not—"
but the words melted into a soft whimper.
Her hand unconsciously gripped his shirt.
Lin Yao's arm tightened, pulling her fully into his embrace.
His chin rested against her hair.
"Since you're already here,
don't leave tonight."
"Let's… talk about life or something."