Shen Sixing carried Shen Yi along the road home, feeling profoundly uncomfortable the entire way.
He had always disliked people getting close to him.
Physical contact felt like an invasion to him. Shen Sixing was used to keeping his distance from others.
Now, there was an extra person in his arms.
Shen Yi's head rested against his shoulder, and he could feel the warmth of her body.
Cozy and warm.
Disgusting.
He wanted to put her down, leave her on some bench by the roadside, or just drop her on the ground. She was sleeping so deeply, she wouldn't know the difference.
—Forget it, I'll hold her for now.
He kept walking.
Still disgusting.
Her hair brushed against his chin, soft, carrying a faint scent of shampoo.
—Forget it, I'm already carrying her.
With his left and right brain locked in a frantic tug-of-war, Shen Sixing gritted his teeth and carried Shen Yi all the way home.
After stuffing her onto the bed and half-heartedly covering her with the blanket, Shen Sixing turned around, took off his jacket, draped it over the back of a chair, and sat down at the desk.
The bed was way too small.
That single bed had originally been just for him—turning over would bump into the wall.
Now with one more person in it, there was no room for him to lie down at all.
Shen Sixing wasn't in the mood to sleep anyway.
He opened his laptop to check messages and major news reports. The internet let him get the information and materials he needed quickly; someone out of touch with society would always instinctively turn to the web first to understand the world.
Shen Sixing was a tech geek. He didn't like going out much, often holed up in his little apartment.
Occasionally, he'd take on a few jobs—helping certain people clean up their messes—and pocket some extra cash.
Maybe...
He should also think about finding a way to make more money?
He instinctively pressed his hands together, resting his chin on them, deep in thought.
The sudden urge to motivate himself and earn money—that was a pretty terrifying thought, honestly.
Shen Sixing also had his own private connections and some gang alliances. They were all fair-weather friends.
Among them were guys who'd started families and had completely turned into slaves to money.
He knew a man who used to specialize in demolition jobs, clean and efficient, fairly well-known in the circle.
Later, he got married, had kids, and started talking nonstop about school districts, formula money, and enrichment classes.
His standards for taking jobs had shifted from "will this be exciting?" to "is the pay enough?"
They used to be a bunch of antisocial talents.
Then they became parents, started planning to buy school-district housing, and washed their hands of it all—just to give their kids a stable home.
Shen Sixing couldn't help but cover his face and groan. He did not want to end up like them.
...
Shen Yi woke up because she was hungry.
It took her a few seconds to remember where she was.
She rolled over, and the bed frame let out a creak, alerting Shen Sixing at his desk.
The young man turned his head to look at her, fingers still resting on the keyboard, some page open on the screen.
Shen Yi sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.
"Dad, you actually didn't throw me away while I was asleep."
She was a little surprised.
Shen Sixing paused mid-keystroke, not turning around: "I seriously considered it, you know."
"If you keep bothering me, I don't mind selling you off to some rich person right now. That way, you'd live a wealthy life, and I'd have my rent covered this month."
Shen Yi ignored his nonsense and leaned in to look at his screen.
"What are you doing?"
Shen Sixing snapped his laptop shut with a loud clap.
"What?" He frowned at her, genuine irritation on his face.
"What are you doing?"
"Working." He gave a vague answer, nudging the laptop aside. "Not something a kid should see."
Shen Yi: "What kind of work isn't for a kid to see?"
Shen Sixing, deadpan: "Adult work."
"Fine," Shen Yi didn't push it, and told him, "I'm hungry."
Shen Sixing opened the fridge. It was empty, except for a bag of bread that had expired half a year ago.
He closed the fridge door.
"I'll go buy food. You wait here."
Shen Sixing's computer was locked.
Shen Yi had no interest in snooping through his private stuff, so she just sprawled at the table, waiting for food.
Footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and Shen Sixing walked in holding a plastic bag.
Instant food from the shop downstairs.
He set the bag on the table and glanced at his own chair.
It was crooked, turned in the wrong direction.
Shen Sixing narrowed his eyes. "Did you touch my computer?"
Shen Yi: "No, I didn't."
"The chair's moved."
"I sat on it," Shen Yi admitted honestly. "But I didn't open anything."
Shen Sixing bent down to look at her at eye level.
"Don't touch my computer," he said flatly, matter-of-fact. "Or I will definitely throw you out."
Shen Yi ignored his usual daily threats again. "Dad, do you know about assassins?"
"It's an ancient profession that's survived to this day. If you're from the future, then you should know that my family is pretty well-known in that line of work."
Shen Sixing looked at her serious little face.
He felt an inexplicable headache at her calling him "Dad."
He did not want to become a father at such a young age.
Lately, his family back home did seem to be hinting at recalling him.
How was he supposed to explain this kid to them?
If he explained it, his old man would just think he'd gotten his mind corrupted by the low-class air out here.
If it weren't for all the oddities about her, Shen Sixing wouldn't have kept her around either.
After all, who would believe a kid's ramblings?
Even now, he still suspected she was a little spy—just a really good actress who hadn't slipped up yet.
"Do you know the organization called 'Sunday'?" Shen Yi asked again.
"What a plain, unpretentious name for an organization," Shen Sixing remarked lightly, calm. "Never heard of it."
"Have you ever heard of the code name 'Harbinger Bird'?"
"Heard of it."
He didn't tell her that he'd just been looking that up on his computer.
Several failed contracts by the organization—he'd confirmed it was the same group stealing business from his family.
The targets all died the same way: cold weapons, clean, precise cuts, never a need for a second strike.
He'd seen Harbinger Bird's target profiles. Their deaths were basically identical.
Clean and swift, almost inhuman.
"She's snatched several jobs from my family," he said casually. "No one's ever managed to take targets from us before."
Shen Yi hedged, "Then do you know who Harbinger Bird is?"
"No idea," Shen Sixing said. "She covers her tracks well. All I know is she's a woman. Can't dig up anything else."
Shen Yi's expression turned slightly complicated.
Shen Sixing gave a half-smile. "Are you a spy from 'Sunday'? Sent to pump me for information?"
Shen Yi: "Of course not."
She was asking because she was just curious about when her parents had met, and where their fate had begun.
Who had fallen for whom at first sight? When it came to her parents' story, Shen Yi knew she shouldn't talk too much or spoil the plot—so she wouldn't accidentally change the future.
But Shen Yi was too curious.
She'd never seen how Shen Sixing and Wen Ya interacted when they were young. She couldn't even imagine what kind of chaotic, hilarious scenes it would have been.
...
When Wen Ya pushed open the heavy iron door of the organization, a speck of red wine someone had brushed onto her skirt still clung to the hem.
The young woman breezed in, casually tossing her bag onto the reception desk, unzipping it, and tipping out a stack of photographs.
“Here—the photos the client requested.”
