As Fan Jun was about to head out, Shen Lang considered for a moment and said, "I'm a bit bored anyway. I'll walk with you for a bit—might as well pick up a few things while I'm out." They made their way downstairs, and as they went, Shen Lang suddenly thought to ask, "Oh right, how's your mother doing these days? I haven't checked in on her in a while."
Fan Jun's face turned slightly sour, and he sniffed before replying, "Better than before, I guess. Hard to say. Whenever I ask, she just brushes me off, saying I'm too young to understand. Recently, some old family recipe was sent from back home. She's been trying it—something to do with dried toad skin fried with eggs. I had a taste. Bitter as hell. Never tasted anything worse. I honestly don't know how my mom manages to eat it. I admire her guts, but man, she's been through so much. Makes my heart ache just watching her."
They arrived at the garage, where Shen Lang pulled out his bike, gesturing for Fan Jun to hop on the back. The two rode through the dimly lit streets, with the quiet hum of the night as their only companion. In less than ten minutes, they arrived at Fan Jun's house, an older home recently updated with tiles in place of thatched roofing. The streetlights faded a few blocks away, so it was lucky Shen Lang's bike had a headlamp.
"Want to come in and sit for a while?" Fan Jun asked as they reached the door.
Shen Lang shook his head. "Nah, it's stifling tonight. I'll come by some other time to check in on your mom. I'll head back. Just come by my place tomorrow; no need for me to come fetch you. I might be out in the morning anyway—I'm planning to swing by the old market." Seeing Fan Jun nod, Shen Lang adjusted his bike's handlebars and gave a casual wave. Fan Jun shouted after him, telling him to ride carefully, and Shen Lang responded with a lazy gesture, barely looking back.
Initially, Shen Lang intended to go home. His talk of buying something was merely a convenient excuse to accompany Fan Jun. The stars tonight were dim, barely visible through the city haze. He glanced around, feeling a slight urge to wander. Maybe he should just head back and stay out of trouble.
However, passing by a supermarket, he hesitated, eventually locking his bike outside and heading in. He picked up some oatmeal, milk, and a few oranges, and after a moment of deliberation, added two packs of cigarettes for his father—it was the least he could do.
Shoving his purchases into the basket on his bike, Shen Lang pedaled leisurely down the street. On a whim, he took a shortcut through a new residential development that was still under construction. Phase two of the project, as he recalled, had been popular, with most of the homes already sold, though none were yet occupied.
As he passed through, a sudden commotion broke the stillness, echoing off the empty structures. Shen Lang saw a figure stumble onto the path, falling just a few meters in front of him. Almost immediately, several other figures emerged, forming a tight circle around him.
A moment later, the darkness was split by the glare of headlights. Several cars pulled up, their beams flooding the area in stark white light. Men spilled out of each vehicle, tall and short, thick and lean, all dressed in sharp suits despite the sweltering summer heat. Shen Lang wondered briefly if they felt the prickly discomfort he'd imagine from wearing so many layers in this weather.
Unfazed, Shen Lang set one foot on the ground to balance himself, surveying the scene with a cool detachment. Was it sheer nerves, or perhaps shock? Either way, he held his position, seemingly unfazed. An elderly man stepped forward, two individuals following closely behind—one a middle-aged man and the other a young woman. Both seemed to regard the elder with reverence, as if in awe or fear.
The old man barely glanced at Shen Lang before reaching over, plucking one of the shopping bags from the basket attached to his bike. He peered inside and pulled out a box of cigarettes.
Suddenly, Shen Lang snapped out of his daze. He lunged forward, grabbing the entire bag and yanking it from the elder's hands, before slamming it down at the old man's feet with a scowl. His glare was cold and sharp as he met the elder's surprised gaze with blatant disdain. Without a word, he turned his bike around, gripped the handlebars tightly, and pedaled off, his movements unhurried yet decidedly defiant.
As Shen Lang rode off into the night, the men who had surrounded him exchanged bewildered looks. Who was this kid? Where did he get the audacity to defy someone as notorious as Elder Zhu, known as "Firestorm" for his explosive temperament? Zhu's reputation was legendary—years ago, during the Cultural Revolution, he'd been cornered by a gang of two hundred militants. Rather than back down, he'd single-handedly subdued the entire mob, shattering bones and leaving none unscathed. The gang's leader ended up with a body broken in more places than anyone could count. Zhu had faced brief imprisonment, only to be inexplicably released soon after. Though he no longer held any formal position within the Security Bureau, Elder Zhu was still occasionally summoned when an iron fist was needed to restore order.
Tonight, however, Zhu's attention was far from the impudent boy who had just stormed off. Instead, his gaze drifted back to the task at hand. "Xiao Liu," he murmured, gesturing to the man at his side. "Handle it. I'm only here as a backup, but something feels off about tonight. I sense there's more to this."
Liu Xingfu nodded gravely. "Yes, sir. The intel I received didn't suggest anything like this. I'll expedite our interrogation, though it may take some time. Please, feel free to rest for a moment—unless…."
"Go ahead, I'll be nearby if anything changes," Zhu replied with a wry smile before turning to the young woman beside him. "Zhufeng, you're with me. Let's see if anything's amiss." He strolled toward his car, with the young woman, Zhufeng, quickly collecting the discarded items on the ground. Once everything was stashed inside the vehicle, she took her place in the driver's seat, placing an earpiece in her ear and listening intently to updates from their team.
After a brief interval, she leaned toward the elder. "Grandpa Zhu, he's coming back."
Elder Zhu lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he observed the approaching figure illuminated by the dim glow of street lamps. It was the same boy, Shen Lang, carrying a fresh load of items from the store. Watching thoughtfully, Zhu muttered, almost to himself, "Pull up his background. I want to know everything."
As the night stretched on, Shen Lang remained oblivious to the figures in the shadows who had taken an interest in him. By the time he finally returned home, it was past three in the morning. He parked his bike in the garage, deposited his purchases inside, and immediately grabbed a basket for groceries, heading out again.
But unknown to him, the gaze of a powerful figure trailed his every step, as if the strings of fate had already begun to pull him into something far larger than he could have anticipated.
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Chapter 4: Fateful Crossroads
As Fan Jun prepared to leave, Shen Lang pondered briefly before saying, "I'm feeling a bit restless myself. I'll walk you back. Maybe I can pick up a few things while I'm out." They made their way down to the ground floor, and Shen Lang suddenly remembered to ask, "Oh, by the way, how's your mom doing lately? It's been a while since I last visited."
Fan Jun's expression turned somber as he sniffed and sighed. "She's… better, I guess. But honestly, I don't know. Every time I ask, she just says I'm too young to understand. Recently, someone from back home sent her a so-called 'miracle cure'—toad skin, dried and ground, then scrambled with eggs. I had a taste… it was so bitter it was almost unbearable. I don't know how my mom manages to swallow it down. She's incredible, honestly, but… it's hard to see her suffer like this."
They reached the garage, where Shen Lang pulled out his bike, motioning for Fan Jun to hop on the back. They rode through the quiet, dimly lit streets, only the hum of the bike wheels filling the silence. In under ten minutes, they arrived at Fan Jun's house—a weathered building, recently upgraded from a thatched roof to tiles. The streetlights had faded out a few blocks earlier, so Shen Lang's bike light was their only guide through the shadows.
"Want to come in for a bit?" Fan Jun asked, gesturing toward his house as they stopped by the gate.
Shen Lang shook his head. "No, thanks. It feels a bit stifling tonight. I'll come by another time to see your mom." He adjusted his grip on the handlebars and added, "Come by tomorrow if you want; I'll be around. I'm thinking of heading over to the old market in the morning, so I might not be home if you come early."
Fan Jun nodded, and Shen Lang turned his bike around, offering a casual wave. Fan Jun called out after him to ride safely, his voice echoing in the stillness as Shen Lang pedaled away, hardly looking back.
Initially, Shen Lang had intended to head straight home. The excuse about picking up supplies was just that—a convenient reason to join Fan Jun. Glancing at the night sky, he noticed how dim and faded the stars seemed. It was the sort of night best spent lying low, he thought to himself, avoiding unnecessary trouble.
However, as he passed by a supermarket, he hesitated, locking up his bike and heading inside. He bought some oatmeal, milk, a few oranges, and, after a moment's consideration, added two packs of cigarettes for his father. It was a small gesture but felt like something he should do.
With his purchases stashed in the basket, Shen Lang rode leisurely through the streets, the night air cool and quiet around him. On a whim, he decided to take a shortcut through a newly constructed residential area, a second-phase development on the edge of town. The first phase, where the Ye family lived, was nearly complete and had been immensely popular. The second phase was already mostly sold out, though no one had yet moved in.
As Shen Lang cycled through the vacant, half-lit streets, a sudden burst of noise shattered the silence. Ahead, shadows flickered as someone stumbled into his path and fell a few meters away. Almost immediately, several figures emerged from the darkness, surrounding Shen Lang in a tight circle.
Then came the glare of headlights, slicing through the night. Several cars pulled up, their beams casting the scene in stark, white light. Men stepped out, tall and short, broad and wiry, all dressed sharply in dark suits that seemed absurdly formal for the humid summer night. Shen Lang couldn't help but wonder if the layers of clothing didn't make them itch in the heat.
He balanced himself on one foot, glancing around at the men encircling him. Was he too stunned to react, or simply unnervingly calm? He himself couldn't tell. Then, an older man slowly approached, followed by two others—a middle-aged man and a young woman, both of whom seemed to carry an air of deference, their expressions taut and restrained, as if they feared the elder.
Without so much as a glance at his companions, the old man reached out and rifled through Shen Lang's basket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
Only then did Shen Lang snap out of his trance. He leaned forward abruptly, snatching the bag back and yanking it from the old man's hands. With a disdainful look, he threw it to the ground at the elder's feet, his eyes flashing with irritation as he met the old man's startled gaze. Without another word, he turned his bike around, gripping the handlebars tightly, and pedaled off, his posture unhurried yet clearly defiant.
As he rode away, the men surrounding him looked at each other in stunned silence. Who was this kid? Where did he get the nerve to defy Elder Zhu—the legendary "Firestorm" himself? Zhu's reputation was infamous, a man feared for his ruthless strength. Years ago, during the Cultural Revolution, he had faced down a mob of two hundred militants alone, taking them down one by one until no one was left standing. The leader of the group had been left with bones shattered beyond repair. Zhu had been briefly imprisoned, only to be mysteriously released soon after. Though no longer formally involved with the Security Bureau, he was occasionally summoned when a situation required a firm hand.
Tonight, though, Zhu's attention shifted away from the brazen boy who had stormed off into the night. Turning to his middle-aged companion, he said quietly, "Xiao Liu, take care of this. I'm only here as a backup, but something about tonight feels... off. This situation isn't as straightforward as I expected."
Liu Xingfu frowned, nodding. "Agreed, sir. The intelligence I received didn't suggest anything like this. I'll expedite our interrogation, though it may take some time. Please, rest for a moment if you'd like."
Zhu nodded absently before turning to the young woman beside him. "Zhufeng, you're coming with me. Let's survey the area." He gestured toward his car, and she quickly gathered the scattered items from the ground before joining him. As she took her place in the driver's seat, she slipped an earpiece into her ear, listening intently to updates from their team.
After a few minutes, she leaned over to Zhu and whispered, "Grandpa Zhu, he's coming back."
Zhu lifted his head, peering into the dim light of the street lamps. Sure enough, Shen Lang was heading toward them, his figure barely illuminated in the hazy glow. He seemed unbothered, carrying a fresh load of supplies from the supermarket. Zhu observed him for a moment, his curiosity piqued. "Pull up his background. I want everything," he murmured.
Meanwhile, Shen Lang remained oblivious to the figures lurking in the shadows, the men who had started to track his every move. By the time he returned home, it was well past three in the morning. He parked his bike in the garage and carried his groceries inside, barely pausing before grabbing a basket and heading out again to buy more supplies.
Unbeknownst to him, though, Zhu's interest had already turned from casual curiosity to something more. The fates had indeed shifted tonight, intertwining Shen Lang with forces and figures beyond his imagination, setting into motion a series of events that would reshape his life.