"Uncle Zheng, please don't say that," Han Feng said with a smile, trying to smooth things over. "Brother Weimin is in charge of the entire Jiang City's security; it's a huge responsibility. I was just dabbling in small-scale operations; I was just lucky."

Zheng Guodong snorted and put another piece of fish on Han Feng's plate: "Eat more, you've gotten thinner since you came back last time." His concern was impossible to hide.

The banquet was drawing to a close amidst laughter and chatter. Han Feng finished clearing the dishes and was about to leave when Zheng Guodong patted him on the shoulder: "Xiao Feng, come with me to the door for a smoke."

The early autumn night breeze carried a slight chill. Zheng Guodong took out a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Han Feng.

Han Feng took the cigarette offered to him and lit it for Zheng Guodong.

Han Feng then said to Zheng Guodong, "Uncle Zheng, you should smoke less often; it's bad for your health."

Zheng Guodong looked at Han Feng and nodded with a smile.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly lowered his voice: "Taking your parents to Kyoto this time, that's not simple, is it?"

Han Feng's heart skipped a beat. Under the streetlights, Zheng Guodong's eyes were sharp as an eagle's; the kind demeanor he had displayed at the dinner table was nowhere to be seen.

"Uncle Zheng, you..."

"Don't be so cautious in front of me," Zheng Guodong waved his hand. "Old Lin already told me. What you're doing now is even more dangerous than what your father did back then."

Han Feng's breath hitched slightly. His father back then? Could it be that Uncle Zheng really knew something...?

Seemingly sensing his confusion, Zheng Guodong sighed softly, "Judging from your expression, your father must have told you something. I know this because I also know some things. Don't forget, I'm the one who introduced you to Old Master Lin." The old man's expression turned serious. "Don't worry, I'll have Weimin continue the investigation in Jiang City. You must take care of yourself in Kyoto."

"Thank you, Uncle Zheng." Han Feng nodded solemnly. "I'll come back to Jiang City often; after all, this is my home."

"Go ahead." Zheng Guodong patted him on the back, his kind expression returning. "Come back and visit often when you have time. I still miss your mother's pickled vegetables! But who knows, we might see each other more often in Kyoto in the future."

Han Feng was a little confused by Zheng Guodong's last sentence, but since Zheng Guodong didn't explain it clearly, he had no choice but to let it go.

Han Feng returned home at nine o'clock in the evening. As soon as he opened the door, he heard his parents arguing in the bedroom.

"We must bring this hand warmer! Kyoto winters are so cold!" came Han's mother's voice.

"My son said they have everything over there, why are you bringing this piece of junk? It's been used for over ten years!" Mr. Han retorted impatiently.

Han Feng shook his head and smiled wryly as he walked to the bedroom door. He saw two large suitcases spread out on the bed, already half full. Han's mother was stuffing an old-fashioned thermos into a gap, while Han's father tried to stop her.

"Dad, Mom." Han Feng knocked on the doorframe. "Isn't it ready yet?"

"Xiao Feng's back!" Han's mother immediately put down the thermos. "You be the judge, this old man wouldn't let me take him..."

Han Feng walked into the room and picked up the thermos with its peeling paint. He remembered that it was an old item his mother had used for many years, which she always kept in her bosom to warm his hands in winter.

"Mom, all the furniture and everything's ready over there. Just bring your bags and move in," he said softly, placing the thermos back on the bedside table. "We'll leave some things here. If we miss the neighbors, we can come back and stay for a few days. If we take everything with us, it'll be inconvenient to come back."

Han's mother's eyes lit up, and she raised her eyebrows proudly at her husband: "Look at our son, he's right, unlike some people!" She affectionately took Han Feng's hand, "Okay, Mom will listen to you."

Mr. Han shook his head helplessly, but a smile played on his lips: "You brat, all you do is try to make your mother happy."

Watching his parents bicker, Han Feng felt a surge of warmth in his chest. No matter how much danger or conspiracy lay outside, at least for this moment, he could protect this ordinary happiness.

The morning sunlight streamed into the living room through the gaps in the curtains, and the moving company workers were already busy at work. Han Feng stood at the door, watching as familiar pieces of furniture were carefully wrapped and carried out. The round table where he had eaten since childhood, the wardrobe his parents had bought when they got married, and the potted green ivy on the balcony that had been growing for over a decade... every item carried memories.

"Old Han, are you really leaving?" Old Li from next door stood at the gate of the courtyard, leaning on his cane, his voice full of reluctance.

Mr. Han patted his old neighbor on the shoulder: "My son insisted on going to Kyoto for a while. Don't worry, he'll come back to play chess with you during the New Year!"

Han's mother was busy saying goodbye to a group of old neighbors, carrying several food containers full of homemade side dishes: "Sister Zhang, take this kimchi; Aunt Wang, your grandson loves my pickled cucumbers the most..."

Han Feng walked to his mother's side and gently put his arm around her shoulder: "Mom, the plane won't wait for anyone, we should leave now."

Han's mother wiped her eyes and waved to those around her: "Take care, everyone! Come visit Kyoto sometime!"

On the way to the airport, Han's mother kept looking out the window at the rapidly receding street scenes, her fingers unconsciously stroking the old thermos she had finally stuffed into her luggage. Han Feng saw this in the rearview mirror and felt a pang of sadness.

"Mom, you'll definitely love Kyoto," he said, deliberately raising his voice. "There's a big park behind the villa area; lots of old ladies do square dancing there in the mornings."

Han's father snorted: "Your mother's dancing skills are too embarrassing to be seen doing."

"What are you talking about!" Han's mother was immediately distracted. "Our team even won an award in the last community competition!"

Laughter filled the car, somewhat easing the sadness of parting. Han Feng quietly breathed a sigh of relief and focused on driving.

Four hours later, at the arrivals hall of Kyoto International Airport.

"Why haven't they come out yet?" Su Wanwan stood on tiptoe and looked around, asking the same question for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Liu Mengran glanced at the flight information screen: "The plane landed half an hour ago, it should be here soon." She tugged at Su Wanwan's sleeve, "Why don't we wait in the car? Here..." She glanced meaningfully at the occasional glances cast at them.

Indeed, it was impossible for two strikingly different yet equally beautiful women standing at the arrivals gate to go unnoticed. Su Wanwan wore an oversized black hoodie with shorts, her long legs particularly eye-catching; Liu Mengran, on the other hand, wore a light blue dress, exuding gentle elegance. Standing together, they had already turned down no fewer than ten attempts to strike up a conversation.

"What's there to be afraid of!" Su Wanwan waved her fist nonchalantly. "I can take on ten of these ugly ducklings!" She made a beautiful roundhouse kick, which scared a middle-aged man who was about to step forward into the distance into quickly backing away.

Liu Mengran was amused by her appearance, and her smiling eyes drew gasps from those around her. Just then, a bald man with a large belly, wearing an expensive suit, walked over, followed by two burly men who looked like bodyguards.