Shen Sixing stood before the partially collapsed wall, the hem of his trench coat swaying gently in the breeze.
The young man said softly, "Not coming out?"
He could sense someone over there—if his position were just slightly adjusted, he could have shot them right in the head.
Still no movement.
Shen Yi held her breath lightly, thinking for two seconds.
She didn't think this version of Shen Sixing had any humanity.
At eighteen, it was probably the age when her father was most devoid of human feeling.
Later in life, though he wouldn't exactly be normal, at least he came across as calm.
But the young man before her was like a blade fresh from sharpening.
There was a coldness about him, a sharpness that had never been dulled.
Shen Yi decisively closed her eyes, let her body fall backward, her back pressing against the ground, and slowed her breathing to the shallowest possible.
Playing dead.
It was the only plan she could think of at the moment.
Shen Sixing guessed that whoever was hiding inside was most likely a child.
An adult couldn't fit into that space.
A child, and a clever one at that—had hidden away, witnessed the entire bloody scene without making a single sound, exceptionally smart.
He had fired that shot intending to kill.
Too bad it missed.
No matter.
Shen Sixing didn't care whether one person here lived or died.
He had only come to this place to quickly deal with the organization that had dared to blow up his family's armory.
Mission accomplished; time to wrap up and leave.
He was exhausted.
Hadn't slept in three days.
His mind was too active, leading to chronic insomnia and frequent dreams. Shen Sixing's mental state was currently extremely worrying.
Seeing that the other party still didn't intend to show themselves, his patience ran out. He ordered, "There's something in there."
"Drag that something out."
"Yes, sir."
...
—Something.
He was calling her something.
So rude!
Shen Yi silently criticized him in her heart, her body remaining completely still.
She heard footsteps gathering toward her—several pairs of boots treading on broken bricks and dust. Someone crouched down, pushed aside the bricks in front of her, reached for her shoulder, and dragged her out of the crack.
When she was pulled out, the back of her head scraped against the ground—it hurt a little—but she bore it, not even furrowing her brow.
"It's a kid," someone murmured.
"Looks about seven or eight, really skinny," another voice chimed in. "What is she wearing? That padded jacket is all torn to pieces."
Shen Yi was lifted by the collar of her jacket, her feet dangling off the ground. The collar choked her neck, making it hard to breathe.
Then she heard Shen Sixing's voice. He was much closer now, right in front of her.
He let out a laugh: "Still just a little kid."
No one responded.
Silence lingered for a few seconds, broken only by the wind whistling through the gap in the broken wall.
Shen Yi, eyes still closed, idly thought to herself.
Her dad was probably crouching down now.
Because his voice sounded lower than before.
Shen Sixing was indeed crouching in front of her, one knee on the ground, the hem of his trench coat trailing in the dusty dirt.
He looked at the child before him—covered in dust, thin as a rake, with brick dust smeared on her face.
The girl's eyes were tightly shut, her lashes casting a faint shadow beneath her eyelids. Her breathing was shallow and even, as if she were truly unconscious.
She was pretty good at faking it.
Shen Sixing watched her for two seconds but didn't call her out.
He tilted his head and glanced again at the children trembling nearby.
Shen Sixing guessed that she was probably a child belonging to a member of this organization.
Her biological parents might have already been blown sky-high by him.
"Her parents must have been members here," the young man murmured to himself, his voice low, as if chatting with himself:
"For criminals like this—people who don't know if they'll see tomorrow—it's strange that they'd even have families, isn't it?"
He paused, his fingers absently playing with the trigger guard of his gun. "Family, children... they're just burdens."
"Maybe when her parents died, they were still worrying about whether their child would survive—whether she'd be okay without them."
His voice was calm, carrying neither mockery nor pity—just pure curiosity. "If things are this bad, why bother having a family?"
As he spoke, he turned his head, his gaze landing on a corpse lying near a far corner of the wall.
Beside that corpse were a few scattered pieces of children's clothing, probably belonging to another member's child.
No one dared to pick up his thread.
In the eyes of many of his subordinates, Shen Sixing was a moody, somewhat neurotic boss.
The hierarchy here was strict; they couldn't just chat with him like friends.
"Right. I think I accidentally blew up her parents," Shen Sixing said, accustomed to the silence and unfazed by it. He got to his feet, brushed the dust off his knees, and called over the man who had been holding Shen Yi.
"Anyone want to take her in?"
He was in a rare good mood today, willing to find a home for this stray cat dug out from the rubble.
The man hesitated, apparently not expecting Shen Sixing to say that. After a few seconds of hesitation, he spoke: "...Mr. Shen, what do you mean?"
Shen Sixing waved a hand impatiently: "Exactly what I said. If anyone wants to raise her, take her away."
His gaze swept across the seven or eight subordinates standing before him.
They exchanged glances, and silence stretched for a few more seconds.
One man took a half-step forward—a guy in his early thirties, a bit hesitant: "Mr. Shen, she's actually kind of cute. I've never raised a kid before, but I'd like to give it a try."
To most people on the dangerous fringes of life, raising a child was probably no different from raising a cat or a dog.
The key was, you didn't have to give birth to it yourself.
Shen Sixing didn't even lift an eyelid. "Up to you."
He replied listlessly, then added, "Remember to clean up the scene."
"If those cops follow the trail back to me, you'll all die, got it?"
"..."
"Yes, sir."
A group of voices answered solemnly.
Shen Yi kept her eyes closed as she listened to the entire conversation, her mind racing at full speed.
She did not want to leave with some stranger.
She had met Shen Sixing—of course, she wanted to go with her father.
In that split second of lightning-quick thought,
Shen Yi suddenly remembered the thing Shen Sixing had given her before she time-traveled.
So she pretended to be on the verge of waking up, hooked her finger around the black metal box hanging from her neck, and nudged the cold metal just barely out from under her collar.
The box peeked out slightly from the edge of her dusty, ragged jacket collar.
One of the subordinates noticed and instinctively said, "What's that thing? Looks pretty valuable."
These people's first instinct was always whether they could resell it.
Shen Sixing noticed too.
His gaze slightly narrowed, and he spoke without warning: "Give me the thing around her neck."
Shen Yi's mind exploded like a thunderclap.
Wait a second.
Wasn't he supposed to take her away?
Why was he trying to steal her thing?!
She felt the man's hand reach out, his cool fingers touching the metal chain around her neck, then lifting the black box from her throat.
As the chain slid across the back of her neck, a faint tickle traveled with it, and when the cold metal left her skin, Shen Yi's heart felt an empty pang.
...It was something Shen Sixing had given her.
