Around
At 4:40 a.m., the manor's iron gate closed automatically.
Fog climbed up from the lake, turning the driveway into a damp, cold tunnel.
Yu Chen pulled the brim of her hoodie down to her brow bone, her bright red hair roots had long been dyed jet black, but the ends of her hair were hidden in her collar, like a fuse that had been extinguished.
Instead of taking the main road, she turned into the gap in the bushes on the west side—there was an abandoned garden path there, barely wide enough for a handcart, and the streetlights had long since stopped working.
The soles of my shoes crunched on the fallen leaves, soft from being soaked in water, as if someone was lifting their feet behind me in sync.
She stopped every ten steps and listened intently—
The wind pushes the branches, the mist swirls the fallen leaves, and there is no other breath.
But danger isn't a sound, it's a feeling:
The skin on the back of my neck tightened inch by inch, as if I were being aimed at from a distance by a gun barrel.
Go around.
She turned north, passing through the rose garden, where the low-hanging branches snagged her trouser cuffs, leaving wet marks and tiny barbs on her denim.
Turning east again, skipping the dried-up fountain, the moon peeks out from the clouds, scattering ripples of light across the ground like shattered glass.
She avoided all reflective surfaces—
Avoid stepping in puddles, stay away from streetlights, and avoid dappling the moonlight.
Like a dotted line erased on a map.
Tracking test
She suddenly crouched down, pretending to tie her shoelaces, but her fingertips pulled a reflective playing card from the top of her boot—
It was a white card that had fallen out of Alin's snow house, and she took it with her.
The playing card is placed face down at a 45° angle, like a rearview mirror.
One second, two seconds, three seconds—
In the mirror, deep within the fog, a dark shadow paused, then quickly lowered itself.
Her breathing took on a second rhythm, half a beat slower than hers, but equally light.
Go around!
She suddenly stood up, but instead of continuing forward, she crossed the flowerbed sideways, her body pressed down as low as possible, like passing through the ropes of a boxing ring;
Then, he leaped over the low wrought iron fence, landing with a roll on his shoulder to absorb the impact. The red boxing glove bag swayed against his back, but there was no metallic clanging.
She squeezed into the maze-like boxwood wall, its branches intertwined, like being stuffed into an airtight cage.
The shadowy figure paused for a second at the maze entrance, seemingly assessing its direction, before ultimately choosing the right-hand entrance.
Yu Chen, however, peeked out from the left exit, and used his backhand to wed the reflective playing card among the branches, with the mirror facing the way he came.
Fog Mirror Hunting
She held her breath, her knuckles tightening silently, as if loading a card dealer.
In the mirror, the shadow gradually magnifies—
Male, approximately 185 cm tall, wearing a gray trench coat with the brim of his hat pulled down to his brow bone, right hand in his pocket, left hand holding a tiny walkie-talkie with a flashing indicator light, like a miniature red dot sight.
The shadowy figure stopped in the center of the maze, looked down at the walkie-talkie, and seemed to be receiving instructions.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Yu Chen crouched down and slipped away through the exit, his footsteps landing on the damp earth as silently as a cat's.
Shake off
She made her way out of the maze, leaped over low stone walls, and slid into the drainage ditch—
The cement wall was covered with moss. She pressed her back against the wall, her body pressed down as low as possible, like someone pressed against the corner of a boxing ring waiting for the countdown.
Footsteps swept past overhead, stopped, continued, faded into the distance, and finally disappeared into the fog.
She didn't move, silently counting to thirty before finally emerging from the drain, soaking wet, and finally seeing her old rented apartment—
The exterior walls are covered with dead vines, like bones forgotten by time.
The key is inserted into the lock, the door opens, the door closes, the lock is deadbolted, and the chain is attached.
She pressed her back against the door panel and slowly slid down to sit on the ground, her knuckles turning white from clenching her fists.
The red boxing glove bag lay at her feet. She bent down and touched the still-dripping, reflective playing card with her fingertips—
In the mirror, my face was blurred by the fog, like a death certificate soaked in water.
In the darkness, her voice was so soft it was barely a whisper:
“The tracker has confirmed that the location has been recorded.”
"Next step, change the card table."
"Cheng Yan, the dealer, continues to survive."
Outside the window, the fog had not yet lifted, and the pursuers had not yet revealed themselves.
But someone sat in a remote monitoring vehicle, staring at the black screen, their voice low and hoarse:
“She discovered it.”
"Then let's close the net ahead of schedule."
The fog continued to fall, like a snowfall unknown to anyone—
The snow is falling; it's the grave Yu Chen dug for himself.
It was also an obituary she had written in advance for her enemy.
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