Within the vent
[Resort conducts temporary evacuation drill in the evening]
At 6:15, the first bolt of lightning seemed to tear a crack in the sky. The sea breeze, carrying the smell of salt, seeped into the gaps in the inner courtyard, and the flag ropes tightened by one notch.
A broadcast "ding" sounded, and the duty officer's voice came through: "Due to worsening weather, a temporary evacuation drill is being initiated. All districts, please take your positions as instructed."
One by one, the light guides along the base of the wall lit up, thin white guide lines extending along the inner side, and a low-position backup light emerged from the edge of the steps, casting a steady beam of light. Two movable warning signs were placed at the corner, arrows pointing towards the inner safety passage.
Hu Li shifted the document bag to her forearm and walked briskly along the light. She glanced up to check if the delays of the exit lights and emergency indicator lights were within the preset values, then looked down at the water stains that had just stopped in the corner—they weren't scattered raindrops, but a very thin, sticky patch of light, and something felt off.
"Someone spilled something here," she whispered to the site supervisor. "Put up a sign first, don't go near it."
The crowd receded inwards, and suddenly a clean force from behind her shoulder pushed her outwards—precise angle, short burst of power, as if she'd practiced it, and it wasn't in that brightly lit area. She stopped abruptly, twisted her right foot, and her ankle tightened. She steadied herself, didn't cry out, and simply tucked her fingertips into her palm, trying to move them a little.
"Where?" The familiar voice was lowered in the wind.
Mu Tianlang had already arrived and stopped two steps away. He first looked at the flow of people, then glanced at the unusually bright light, his gaze turned cold for a moment, before returning to her feet.
Hu Li smiled and said, "It's just a minor sprain, nothing serious."
Hu Li sat down against the wall. Mu Tianlang didn't approach, stopping at an arm's length away, his voice softening: "I'm here, you deal with it yourself, I'll explain slowly."
She rolled up her trouser legs quickly and efficiently. Mu Tianlang watched as her hands formed a figure eight, and when she tightened the last loop too much, he whispered a reminder: "Loosen it by half a notch, don't tighten it too much."
She looked up, her voice very soft: "Are you holding back?"
He still didn't respond, but continued from where he left off: "Just loosen it by half a notch."
The announcement came over the loudspeaker again: "Simulated power outage on floor two. Backup lighting to be activated."
The main lights went out instantly, and the backup lights came on one by one, forming a thin stream of light along the base of the wall, like a steady river. The crowd moved inwards following the light, without panic. Hu Li gestured, "Move inwards."
Mu Tianlang gave the instructions over the walkie-talkie: "Walk along the wall on the east side, don't stop; there's someone on duty at the corner." He then told the operations control center: "Go back and adjust the delay of this backup light from 0:30 to 0:25."
The rain started again. Backup lights illuminated the edges of each step, casting a faint white glow on the bandage around her ankle. She stood up and said to the site supervisor, "Once everyone's been cleared, I'm going to the medical station."
Mu Tianlang didn't stop him, only saying, "Don't be reckless."
She blinked: "Yes, ma'am."
The medical station smelled clean of disinfectant. The nurse examined him and determined it was a minor sprain, advising him not to stand for long periods that evening. Hu Li nodded and took an ice pack.
As she stepped out, the rain had turned into a fine mist. She paused for a second by the side of the corridor, gazing into the inner courtyard. The low-level guide lights were still shining quietly, like someone silently keeping you company in the darkness.
[Night in the Resort President's Office]
Only the work lights were on indoors. The video wall played back the drill recordings and corridor surveillance footage. Mu Tianlang slowed down the suspicious periods, looking at each frame: an obstruction at a corner, whose steps were out of rhythm, which pair of shoes left an excessively long pause in the light.
He suddenly stopped the camera. A person on the outer corridor raised their phone and quickly glanced at the lens—not out of panic, but out of confirmation. There was a light in their eyes, as if they were giving someone a secret signal.
He noted down the time points, image numbers, and coordinates, his tone low but firm: "Drag out the original files, extract all the portraits. Cross-reference the access control card swipes and WiFi connections, start now."
The assistant replied, "Received."
He added: "The test results will be reported on-site; the legal department will prepare evidence and police reports. Security will be deployed in three shifts every hour, starting tonight."
His gaze returned to that frozen frame—the crowd in the shot was moving with the light, except for those eyes looking against it. He tapped his finger on the table, his voice even lower: "You want to see us in chaos."
[Night at the Resort Staff Dormitory]
When she returned to her room, the rain had stopped. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway turned on one by one, as if someone had accompanied her back. Hu Li took off her earrings and placed them in a small dish. She put an ice pack on her ankle.
My phone lit up. A pinned message popped up in the group chat: "After investigation, the source of the false information circulating today has been identified. The disseminator will be dealt with according to regulations. Discussion and forwarding are prohibited in the group." Below, a neat row of "read" messages appeared. No one spoke again, and the emojis disappeared.
Hu Li silenced her phone, moved her easel to the window, and continued working on the painting she hadn't finished the night before. She deepened the background with a layer of damp gray, like a heavier sea fog. She used charcoal to sketch the left side—a wolf, its outline clear, its ears pointing towards the wind; she then darkened the lower right corner, hiding a fox, only the tip of its tail showing, the light not shining on it, like a secret thought hidden in the shadows.
I was halfway through drawing when my phone lit up.
That number came again: "If you're injured, let him get closer so we can carry out our plan. I'm just giving you a push."
"Stop stalling. It's your turn next."
Hu Li stared at the words, gave a cold laugh, and replied, "I know what I'm doing. Don't drag innocent people into this."
"You want me to move forward, but I'll stop here instead."
The dialog box remained silent for a few seconds without a reply.
She recalled the push she received that evening—clean, precise, like a knife slashing out from the crowd, propelling her a step outwards. She didn't look back, nor did she intend to tell anyone.
She saved the screenshot of the threatening message and dragged it into a folder named "Unread". Then, she opened another dialog box.
Hu Li: Are you still busy?
Mu Tianlang: Yes. Does it still hurt?
Hu Li: I've applied ice, it's not serious.
Mu Tianlang: I know. Don't stand there for too long.
Hu Li: And what about you? Don't overeat.
Mu Tianlang: Yes. Drink something hot.
Hu Li: I heard him say "Don't be stubborn" today.
Mu Tianlang: Hmm.
Hu Li: Then don't be stubborn. Just say so if you need me.
Mu Tianlang: I know.
Hu Li: I will wait for you, but not for too long.
Mu Tianlang: As soon as possible.
He didn't reply with a picture or a long sentence; he paused for two seconds.
She looked at those two words and smiled. The sea outside the window was a deep, steady black, and the low-level backup light left a thin white line at the base of the wall, as if someone was guarding the boundary for her in the night.
She put her phone back on the easel, switched to a fine brush, and added a touch of light along the wolf's pupils, as if casting an answer into the light.
[Late-night inspection of the resort's inner courtyard]
Security personnel cordoned off the area that had been sealed off and affixed a label pending inspection. The light guide was still on, and the wind blew the small trees back and forth, their shadows sliced into individual squares by the low-level lights.
Mu Tianlang led two people through the inner circle again. His tone was low, but his commands were precise: "Reset the backup light's delay to 0.25; assign two fixed guards to each corner; add one patrol point in the northeast corner."
He paused for a second as he reached the corner, glancing at the shadow above the camera. That angle had been "seen" last night. He didn't say much, only calmly stating, "I'll personally review the original footage tomorrow morning."
Assistant Xiao Zhou said in a low voice, "Okay."
[Temporary Newsletter from the Resort Board of Directors]
The impromptu teleconference started promptly at 9:00 AM the following day. Several shareholders asked with concern: Would the paparazzi photos affect the opening ceremony? Should they "take advantage of the situation" and launch a more aggressive publicity campaign?
Mu Tianlang's voice was calm: "No hype, no diversionary tactics. The focus is on bringing the topic back to 'opening ceremony' and 'security.' Three things: First, guide public opinion; second, trace the source; third, safeguard the site."
He synchronized the data from last night's drill with the backup light delay report onto the screen, and then placed the preliminary interpretation of the sampling results on the next page: "The backup light delay has been reduced to 0.25 seconds, with complete coverage. Evacuation routes are clear. There was external interference on site, and the samples have been preserved as evidence."
Someone asked, "Was it an internal oversight?"
He clicked on the page: "Two parallel investigations. One line examines the process and personnel, including temporary workers, outsourced workers, and site collaborators; the other line traces external malicious activity, having cross-checked access control, WiFi access, and surveillance. At this stage, no design or operational errors have been found, suggesting human interference. Also—it wasn't her."
Another question was asked: "What will be the impact on revenue and scheduling?"
He replied, "Cash matters have been handled: the factoring agreement was signed today, and funds have been deposited into the dedicated account; the temporary public relations budget has been activated for positive content and featured posts; the procurement payment has been postponed for one week, and all arrangements have been communicated. The schedule remains unchanged, and in case of extreme weather, we will implement backup Plan B. Indoor processes and online access points are ready. The risk dashboard is updated hourly, with reports from public relations, security, and operations departments respectively."
The conversation paused for two seconds, then the board members nodded. He concluded, "The conclusion is simple—stabilize the situation, steer the tide back, and open the show on schedule."
[Resort's courtyard corridor in the morning]
The sea fog receded slowly. Hu Li walked along the path she had taken the night before, checking each point to ensure the light was in place, taking photos for record-keeping, and noting the time and location. She didn't mention the silicone oil again, only lingering for half a second at that corner.
The footsteps stopped beside her from behind. She knew who it was without even looking.
"Does it still hurt?" Mu Tianlang asked.
"I'm fine." Hu Li turned his head, his eyes narrowing. "What about you? You didn't sleep last night, did you?"
"I'm asleep." His reply was brief.
She laughed: "You're lying to me."
He didn't take it, his gaze falling on her shoelaces: "They're loose."
She bent down and retied her shoelaces. As she stood up, he stepped aside, his voice lowered, "Move over."
She stood next to him, just an arm's length away. She looked up and said, "See, I'm very well-behaved."
He shifted slightly to the side, as if avoiding something, or perhaps giving way: "I know."
She suddenly whispered, "You have some dark circles under your eyes. Didn't you sleep well again last night?"
He glanced at her for two seconds and said briefly, "Busy."
She lowered her head further: "Then don't hold on, lean a little closer to me."
He hummed in agreement.
The wind passed between them. She held up her phone and snapped three photos—the first was a close-up of the two of them, showing only half their faces and shoulders; the second was a photo of the spare light along the wall; the third was a photo of him stepping aside, their shadows close together on the ground. She sent him the third photo with just four words: That's enough.
He replied with two words: "Received."
[Afternoon in the Resort President's Office]
Laboratory results: The sample contained silicone oil, not a common cleaning agent. Security personnel, after cross-referencing the suspected suspect's movements with access control and Wi-Fi connections, identified two individuals. Public relations simultaneously launched a second statement, with external sentiment gradually shifting back to "opening highlights" and "nighttime security drills."
Mu Tianlang placed the two lists on the table, his voice calm: "Follow the procedure. Talk to the legal department first." He paused, then added: "Don't let her know the details."
Assistant Xiao Zhou replied, "Understood."
He glanced at the matte black glass on the corner of the table, his fingertips lingering on the rim before withdrawing. His gaze fell upon the sea outside the window, as if suppressing all his impulses beneath the tide.
[Employee dormitory from dusk to night]
Hu Li brushed away the last bit of dust from the canvas. The wolf was in the light, the fox in the mist, the boundary very thin. She changed the small print in the corner to another sentence: I am on the left, and also where you need me.
She leaned the canvas against the wall and stood a little further away to look at it. Her phone vibrated.
Mu Tianlang: Don't go downstairs tonight, I'll go over there.
Hu Li: What are you here for?
Mu Tianlang: Delivering things.
Hu Li: What is that?
Mu Tianlang: Finger and ankle protectors.
Hu Li: When you come up, remember to knock twice on the door.
Mu Tianlang: One light touch, one heavy touch.
She stared at the words, her heart clenching as if someone had pressed on it, then slowly released it. She drew the curtains halfway, making the room feel warmer. Night hadn't come yet, but the wind had.
The door opened twice, once softly and once loudly.
She opened the door. Neither of them moved in nor out; they stood just across the doorway.
"Ankle brace." He handed her the paper bag, his hand pausing in mid-air for a second without touching her.
"Shall I come in?" She raised her chin, a faint smile on her face.
He shook his head: "Not here."
She didn't tease him. She took the bag, stepped aside to make way for him, but didn't actually let him in: "Then I'll take you to the elevator."
The two walked side by side down the corridor, the low-level backup lights dividing the floor into sections. He stopped first before the elevator.
She turned her head and watched as his knuckles tapped lightly on the edge of the paper bag before he withdrew them. She suddenly whispered, "Mu Tianlang, I'm not here to be a burden to you."
He looked at her and said in a low voice, "I know."
The elevator dinged. The doors opened.
She said, "Then you should leave. Let's go somewhere else another day."
He nodded: "Change the day."
Before the door closed, he suddenly added, "Don't wait too long."
She laughed and said, "Hurry up."
The door closed. She stood there, listening to the sound of the elevator going down, as if a thread had gently pulled a little from her heart and then put it back.
She turned around; the canvas in the room was quiet in the night. She took out her ankle brace, sat by the window, put her foot on the stool, and began to wrap it around her ankle, one loop after another. Her fingers paused for a second at the last notch, then loosened half a notch, as if she had taught someone "not to be stubborn."
The sea outside the window is a deep, steady black. The light inside the room warms slowly. The boundary remains, but both directions are quietly converging towards the same point.
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