Zuo Shihuan lifted his head, dazed for several seconds.
The mall’s big screen, after turning black, suddenly switched to other ads—bright, polished stars beaming down as though the chaos of the live broadcast had been nothing but an illusion.
But Zuo Shihuan knew—it was real.
Expressionless, he turned and began walking away, not toward the mall’s exit but in the opposite direction, steps unsteady, moving only deeper inside.
Yu Lizhu noticed something was wrong and grabbed his arm. “Zuo Shihuan, where are you going?”
His mind was a tangled mess, replaying over and over that last scene—the red trench coat, the gun raised toward the stage, toward Gu Heng.
A crushing anxiety twisted in his chest; he couldn’t think clearly. Even breathing felt tight and painful.
He shook off Yu Lizhu’s hand. With what little rationality remained, he tried to recall where the broadcast had been—Delores Plaza—but which direction was it?
His light-brown eyes darted frantically, scanning every corridor of the vast mall.
But the mall was a labyrinth, like a spider’s den of endless branching paths.
The more his nerves strained, the more desperate he became to find the way—until everything blurred, spinning, familiar routes turning strange and unrecognizable.
Where is it?!
Zuo Shihuan clenched his teeth, forcing himself to think.
Yu Lizhu, quick to catch on, said, “If you’re trying to get to where that broadcast was, walking would take over an hour. But if you take one of the mall’s hover-cars, you can get there in about ten minutes.”
Zuo Shihuan froze for a moment. “…Thank you.”
Yu Lizhu looked worried. “Is there someone you know trapped there? If so, let me go with you—one more person means one more chance to help.”
Someone he knew?
Gu Heng didn’t even know him.
A sharp pang of bitterness crossed Zuo Shihuan’s heart. He turned his eyes away from Yu Lizhu. “No need. It’s too dangerous. You two should go back.”
Seeing his determined and serious expression, Yu Lizhu sighed. “Then be careful. I’ll take Zuo Shiyun back.”
“Mm.”
***
Before the collapse at the square—
Governor Malz had been laughing as he replied to the little boy: “That’s right, don’t ever get as fat as Uncle—”
Among the crowd, the person in the red trench coat lowered their head, clutching the gun tightly. Their body trembled uncontrollably with rage. The eyes that lifted were filled with hatred straight out of h*ll, fixed firmly on the man standing on stage.
Then—
A thunderous boom!
The stage structure began to give way. The enormous backdrop panel tilted forward, about to crush the overweight Governor Malz, who had no time to escape.
And in that moment, the red-coated figure’s gaze flickered—something complex flashing through it.
***
A deafening crash.
Governor Malz froze, sensing something wrong. He turned, horrified, to see the massive backdrop about to fall on him.
He squeezed his eyes shut in terror—plunging into darkness.
Another loud thud!
When he opened his eyes again, he thought he must be dead. There was no pain—only a faint numbness in his legs.
A thin shaft of light pierced the dim, narrow space around him.
Governor Malz thought it was heaven’s light—then immediately laughed at himself.
Heaven? With the sins he’d committed, unless God were blind, there was no way he’d end up there. No—this must be h*ll.
“Talk. Who sent you?”
Governor Malz’s smile turned cold as he stared at the figures before him—clearly not angels, but people in ordinary Federation attire.
So this “accident” had been orchestrated by them. They knew he always kept bodyguards nearby, that as a key Federation official he was hardest to approach—except during a public speech when his guards were farther away. Under everyone’s eyes, they’d used some kind of illusion or trick to spirit him away here.
If he guessed right, he was now somewhere beneath the collapsed stage.
These people must have prepared in advance—so when the giant backdrop fell and all eyes turned to the chaos, they used a hidden mechanism to drop him into this concealed space.
But instead of answering him, the strangers inserted a syringe into his arm, drawing blood and feeding it into a nearby analyzer.
Ji Shenwen sat before the instrument, his usual expression gone. His cold eyes swept across the data displayed on the screen as he spoke to the person who had just entered.
“We’ve found out who he is — he’s Ronald, the imperial fugitive who escaped more than ten years ago.”
“He committed crimes in the Empire that were punishable by death. After fleeing to the Federation, he hijacked a civilian spacecraft and murdered dozens of innocent federal citizens. He’s been on both the Empire and Federation’s wanted lists ever since, but disappeared without a trace for over a decade.”
The exposed “Governor Malz” turned cold-eyed, yet still refused to admit it. He forced a sneer and said, “Why have you brought me here? I’ll tell you, I’m a Federation official — the governor of Beigang Planet for decades. I’m not the fugitive you’re talking about.”
“Hurry up and release me, or once the Federation police find out—”
“Find out what? That you’re a wanted man of the Empire? That you murdered three members of Governor Malz’s family of five — killed the real Malz, his eldest son, and his second daughter, disguised yourself as him with cosmetic surgery, drove his wife insane and into an asylum, and left his youngest daughter disfigured by fire? And yet you, a fugitive, are still living comfortably as a governor?”
Gu Heng walked out from the shadows, his noble and indifferent black eyes looking down on the “Governor” from above.
The “Governor” still refused to admit it. Staring at Gu Heng’s cold, overly young face, he sneered, “Do you have proof?”
“It’s been over ten years. Do you have evidence I killed them? Even if you’ve uncovered who I am, so what? I’m now a well-respected planetary governor. Compared to those ‘minor offenses’ from before, my current position could be of far more use to you.”
“We can make a deal — let me go, and I’ll grant you every authority and convenience that comes with my office.”
Gu Heng ignored the offer. He removed the communicator from the “Governor’s” body and tossed it to Ji Shenwen for investigation.
Before long, Ji Shenwen cracked into it and retrieved a deleted voice recording. The beginning was full of static.
“—zzzz… Governor Malz — oh no, Ronald, long time no see. If I hadn’t seen you on TV, I wouldn’t have realized you’re doing so well. Should’ve switched faces with you back then. Who’d have thought you’d get so lucky, killing the real governor and taking his place? You were such a skinny rat, then you had surgery and fattened yourself up to look like him. Now you’re even fatter — your face has swallowed your features. Guess it’s to keep people from noticing…”
“Anyway, some folks came looking for me. But I thought of you. Want to meet up?”
“Sure, let’s meet at XXX.”
The next recording was full of panting, the sound of someone running for their life.
“Ronald — you’re trying to kill me! You think if I’m dead, no one will know who you are? Those people will come for you sooner or later! I swear, if you kill me, I’ll confess to the Federation police — we’ll both go down together!”
Then—
A deep male voice sounded from both ends: —one from the communicator Ji Shenwen held, —and one from the communicator that had slipped from the hand of the shot man lying on the floor.
“Is that so? To make sure they don’t find me, it’s better to kill you first.”
Bang!
Because the fugitive Ronald had been living under Governor Malz’s identity, he’d also inherited all of Malz’s social ties. He was terrified of slipping up and being exposed by people who once knew the real Malz.
The communicator found on him was an old model — the same one he’d used for over ten years. He hadn’t dared to replace or even update its system, making it easy for Ji Shenwen and the others to hack into.
And that wasn’t the only deleted message.
The more he tried to erase the traces, the clearer his guilt became.
Ji Shenwen didn’t even have to search selectively — once he broke through the governor’s identity lock, every deleted trace left behind was recovered.
Piece by piece, the evidence was thrown in “Governor Malz’s” face, leaving him unable to deny the truth.
After a long, dark silence, the “Governor” changed tactics. Smiling, he said to Gu Heng and the others,
“You’re from the Empire, aren’t you? I’m willing to surrender. I can expose the others — atone for my crimes — as long as you let me—”
“Then speak,” Gu Heng interrupted, his indifferent black eyes fixed on him.
That cold, detached gaze made the “Governor” feel immense pressure — this young man held his life and death in his hands, and terrifyingly enough, didn’t seem to care either way.
Whether he lived or died made no difference.
Cautiously, the “Governor” continued, “I’m far more useful as a Federation governor than as a criminal locked up. I can contact those people — give you all the information you want.”
He had once murdered his own accomplice to keep his cover. When those same people later tried to rope him back in, he’d refused and secretly investigated them, even discovering some of their new identities in the Federation.
If selling out his old partners could convince Gu Heng and the others that he still had value — that they might spare him — he’d gladly give them everything. It wasn’t his information to lose, after all.
As the “Governor” repeatedly betrayed his former allies, Gu Heng’s subordinates stood around him, grave-faced, carefully recording every word.
“Confirmed. Fugitive Ralph, currently on XX Planet under the alias XX, posing as an ordinary office worker…”
“Fugitive Grover, alias XX, currently on XX Planet, disguised as a mechanic…”
“Fugitive—”
As the “Governor Malz” went on, his voice grew increasingly unsteady. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and though his mouth kept spilling out the names and details of his former accomplices, his eyes never once left Gu Heng.
Those black eyes, detached and expressionless from start to finish, were focused on the communicator in his hand—as if speaking to someone on the other end—his lips curved faintly in something that wasn’t quite a smile.
He completely ignored “Governor Malz,” as though the intelligence the man had worked so hard to gather was meaningless, not worth a ripple in his gaze.
It left “Governor Malz” utterly lost, uncertain of his fate. So he kept talking, blurting out everything he could recall, even repeating himself when he ran out of new information.
Until at last, he was rambling incoherently—no longer able to say a single useful thing.
Ji Shenwen, standing beside him, stopped recording. He drew his gun and, by habit, leveled it straight at “Governor Malz,” waiting for the familiar command to finish off this imperial traitor and fugitive.
But the man by the door remained silent.
Facing the gun barrel, “Governor Malz” swallowed his fear and tried to bargain with Gu Heng.
“I—I’ve already told you everything I know. I swear on my life I’ll never breathe a word of what happened today. Can you let me go now?”
Ji Shenwen gave the Crown Prince a questioning look—but under those calm, dark eyes, he seemed to understand something unspoken. Confused but obedient, he slowly lowered his gun.
“Governor Malz” stared wide-eyed, stunned. He glanced at Ji Shenwen, then cautiously at Gu Heng, his heart leaping with a flicker of wild hope.
“Then… I can leave?”
“Go up,” Gu Heng said.
The “Governor” hadn’t expected to be released at all. He’d assumed they would silence him—kill him to eliminate all traces. The realization that he might actually walk free filled him with ecstatic disbelief.
“Y-yes, yes, I’ll go right away!”
He hurried toward the door Gu Heng had entered through, eager to leave before they could change their minds.
Ji Shenwen’s hand tightened on his gun again, his eyes burning with fury as he glared at the monstrous criminal. In his heart, he prayed the Crown Prince would reconsider—so that he could pull the trigger in the next second.
“Wait.”
Gu Heng frowned, stepping in to block the man’s path.
“Governor Malz” froze in place, then turned around, trembling.
“Wh-what is it? Didn’t you say I could go?”
Gu Heng’s voice was calm, his dark eyes cold as he looked down at him.
“Did I say you could take that way?”
Confused, the “Governor” followed Gu Heng’s gaze upward.
There, in the ceiling’s thick wooden planks, was a small concealed opening.
“You came down from there,” Gu Heng said evenly. “So you can go back up the same way.”
“Governor Malz” wiped at the sweat streaming down his temples. His face paled further as he remembered how he had gained weight to match the late governor’s body shape—so much that even walking left him short of breath.
How could he possibly climb up there?
“What’s wrong? Can’t do it?”
The young man’s voice behind him pressed relentlessly closer. “Governor Malz” knew that if he so much as admitted defeat, that subordinate’s gun would explode against his temple.
“I can! I can do it!”
He shouted, but the words brought him no relief. Panting, he reached up toward the opening, straining every muscle—and yet, his heavy body barely moved.
He didn’t dare stop.
He didn’t dare rest.
He knew the instant he did, that gun would aim right at him.
Then—
A voice spoke from behind, light and amused, as though watching a performance.
“Here. A chair for you.”
“Governor Malz” turned his head stiffly. Sweat ran down into the folds of his neck, but he didn’t even dare wipe it away. Under Gu Heng’s cool, faintly mocking gaze, he accepted the chair with both trembling hands.
Under that noble, detached, yet cruel gaze— it felt as if Gu Heng were kindly handing a prop to a fat clown, just to see him make a greater fool of himself for entertainment.
“Governor Malz” shivered violently, clutching the chair.
“Th-thank you,” he murmured.
His heart pounded wildly in his chest, dread clawing at every beat.
He would rather face Ji Shenwen—the straightforward subordinate, righteous and stern, whose gun and anger at least made sense.
Better that than meet the unfathomable eyes of Gu Heng.
***
The chair creaked under the strain of his weight.
At last, “Governor Malz” managed to step up, pushing at the wooden opening above. His eyes gleamed with desperate relief as he began to climb through—
Ji Shenwen, gun still in hand, listened to the faint scraping of the planks overhead, every muscle tense, ready to fire the moment the order was given.
But he was only the one holding the gun— not the one who decided when to shoot.
Without a command, even a full magazine of bullets couldn’t be fired.
Unable to contain his confusion any longer, Ji Shenwen finally asked, “Your Highness, I don’t understand… are we really letting him go?”
Gu Heng replied casually, “Mm. I promised someone I’d let him go.”
“Who?”
Gu Heng closed the communicator screen he’d been watching and looked at Ji Shenwen with calm, wordless eyes.
“It’s not written in the report. The person who’s been feeding us intel for this mission from the start.”
Ji Shenwen’s eyes widened slightly. He knew who that frontline informant was— and that was precisely the person least likely to ever let “Governor Malz” go.
Because the informant was none other than the real Governor Malz’s youngest daughter— the only surviving member of that slaughtered family.
Her mother had gone mad and been sent to an asylum.
Her father, brother, and sister were all murdered.
And she herself, disfigured by the fire, had been forced to live for twelve years beside the monster who killed them.
Ji Shenwen could hardly fathom how that brave girl had survived— or how the Crown Prince had learned the truth.
All he knew was that one day, out of nowhere, Gu Heng had told him to investigate an unremarkable Federation official named “Governor Malz.”
Ji Shenwen also asked the question that had been weighing on his mind.
Gu Heng thought for a moment before answering. “She wrote everything down and posted it online, but no one believed her. Of course, she used aliases throughout, but from the environment she described and the species unique to that planet, I deduced that she was on Beigang Star. The ‘Governor Father’ she mentioned was very obviously the Governor of Beigang.”
“Later, I sought her out. According to what she wrote, I found her brother’s body buried in the garden. In the pillow that Governor Malz had used, I found traces of hair. I had a genetic test done for comparison — the result showed they weren’t father and daughter.”
“I still remember the title of her plea for help.”
‘If the First Father I Ever Saw Wasn’t My Real Father’
Meanwhile, Governor Malz had already climbed up to the upper level of the planks. Looking up, he saw yet another layer of boards above. Through a small crack, he could just make out faint streaks of free daylight filtering through.
“I was two years old when I first saw my father. My mother held me in her arms and said, ‘This is your father — he’s been away on business for years.’ I timidly called him ‘Papa.’ He awkwardly picked me up, calling my mother by her name, Marjorie. But Mother looked puzzled and said, ‘Haven’t you always called me by my middle name, Ashley?’ And in that instant, Father’s face changed.”
Panting heavily, Malz pushed hard against the board above him — but it didn’t budge. The collapse of the plaza stage had caused heavy debris to press down on the exit.
If he couldn’t get out, he’d be trapped here forever.
A dark, vicious look flashed in his eyes. He grabbed a discarded iron rod left from the stage scaffolding.
“I thought Father calling the wrong name was just a small mistake. But a few days later, Mother suddenly became anxious and irritable. She held me through the night, never sleeping — as if terrified that some monster in the dark would come to steal me away. My brother noticed something was wrong and went to talk to her. I overheard her whisper to him, ‘A monster wearing human skin has entered our home.’”
Malz swung the iron rod wildly, slamming it again and again into the boards above until cracks began to form.
“Brother didn’t believe her. He thought Mother had gone too long without seeing Father — that her paranoia had worsened and she was hallucinating. So he went to confront Father himself. That night was deathly silent. Mother was holding me in the nursery, finally exhausted enough to fall asleep. But I woke in the middle of the night to strange sounds outside — footsteps… and something heavy being dragged across the floor. Curious, I wanted to open the door. But Mother held me tight even in her sleep, her eyes dark with exhaustion, arms locked around me as if she’d never let go. So I stayed in her arms and fell asleep to the sound of digging in the garden. The next spring, the gardener said the flowers bloomed more than ever.”
A sharp crack split the air.
The fissure widened into an opening, and harsh daylight streamed in.
Malz’s lips twisted into an ecstatic, savage grin. He reached eagerly for the edge, trying to haul himself up.
But the moment he pulled, the edge gave way — unable to bear his weight.
He fell heavily, the broken wooden boards and steel frame of the platform collapsing onto him. His hand turned instantly purple with bruising.
“Then Brother went missing. Mother grew even more nervous, clutching me constantly, afraid to sleep. Until one day, she finally snapped. At the dinner table, she pointed at Father and asked if he had killed Brother. Father looked ashamed and told everyone Mother was mentally ill — that she had already been suffering from insomnia, hallucinations, and anxiety. He claimed she was the one who had killed Brother in her madness. The people around us saw how unstable Mother had been lately and turned their suspicion on her. Overwhelmed and unable to explain, Mother broke down. She grabbed a kitchen knife and slashed at Father, screaming, asking where he had hidden Brother’s body. Father didn’t dodge. The blade cut his hand, but he never struck back. Instead, everyone restrained the ‘mad’ woman and took her away to an asylum.”
“After that, all the servants in the house were replaced. I was a little over two years old — old enough to understand something. I clutched the doll Mother left behind, hid in my room, and refused to go out, terrified the monster would come for me next.”
“My elder sister heard what happened and came back from school to take care of me.”
Malz stared down at the bruise spreading across his hand, his eyes darkening further.
But perhaps it wasn’t entirely bad — the hole had grown larger. From below, he could already see the huge fallen backdrop, its printed image of the Governor’s own face staring back at him.
“My sister — oh, how I wish she hadn’t said anything. I yelled at her, told her to go back, not to interfere, to return to school and stay away from this place. But she was worried about me, especially after Mother was institutionalized and Brother vanished — everyone said Mother, in her madness, had killed him and hidden the body. She held me and cried, saying that only Father and I were left — her only family. I looked out the window at the garden. There was a patch of flowers that bloomed far too well. My sister, my foolish sister, said she couldn’t leave me alone — she had to talk to Father about what to do with me. I stopped her, forcing a bright, sunny smile onto my long-bleak face. I told her it was fine — I’d get better on my own. She half-believed me, told me to go out in the garden and get some sun. I did. Told me to make new friends. I did. Told me to smile again, pure and innocent like before. I did.”
“And when she finally relaxed, she said she’d go back to school — that I should live well with Father. I smiled up at Father beside me, my face as innocent as ever.”
“At last… finally… she went back to school.”
“But why must schools have graduation days? I wished my sister would never graduate — never come back to this house again.”
Governor Malz lifted his head and looked up at the pair of eyes that resembled his own. Picking up the iron rod, he drove it straight through one of those painted eyes — his gaze filled with violent rage.
From the very moment he’d stepped onto the stage, he had wanted to pierce that eye — the one that didn’t belong to him, but to the original Governor Malz.
“Two years later, my sister came home after graduation.”
“We spent a long vacation together — far too long…”
“Unlike me, she had once been part of Father’s daily life. She knew him so well — the way he ended his sentences, the jam he spread on his bread, whether he ground his teeth or snored in his sleep.”
“So when Father spread a layer of kiwi jam on his bread, my sister’s eyes went wide with disbelief and fear — because Father was allergic to kiwis. He never ate them.”
“I didn’t understand who would or wouldn’t eat kiwi jam. But when I saw the panic in my sister’s eyes, I keenly sensed something. I reached out, held her hand, handed her a piece of bread, and said—”
“‘Eat. Quickly…’”
“‘Don’t speak. Don’t speak anymore.’”
“‘Don’t argue with Father. Don’t ask him that question— Who are you, really?’”
“I sat weakly at the study door, clutching my doll, even as Sister stormed out and grabbed my hand. Father stood behind me, watching with a calm, unsurprised gaze. I no longer planned to resist.”
“My sister held my hand tightly, even while packing her suitcase. She refused to let go. She said she was taking me away from this house — that I was the only family she had left.”
“‘She said—’”
“‘When the fire reached her room — the windows, the curtains, her dress — she beat frantically on the iron bars, finally prying open a hole just big enough for me to escape.’”
“‘She threw me down from the upper floor and told me to live on.’”
Governor Malz finally set the iron rod down with a long, easy breath.
He guessed the staff must have thought his current bloated image unflattering, so they had printed the photograph of the former Governor Malz from over a decade ago — when he still held office — onto the massive backdrop.
That Malz — the one who had saved him when he was gravely wounded — had brought home a white-eyed wolf in disguise. In the end, the kind-hearted Governor not only lost his own life but doomed his family as well.
Now, the wanted criminal Ronald had driven the rod through that pair of kind eyes, as if destroying them could free him from the guilt of their gaze — as if he truly could become Governor Malz himself.
Not far away, the guards heard the commotion.
“Governor Malz! He’s over here!” they shouted, hurrying toward him to rescue him.
“I was thrown from the window like a broken doll, my hair and face marked with burns.
Father… Father showed such pained concern. He carried me to the hospital for treatment. But as he lifted me, I looked toward the still-burning room at home — and saw no trace of my sister.”
“That was the first father I ever saw…”
“The father Mother, Brother, and Sister all said was not Father — but the only father I ever knew.”
The guards found Governor Malz at last, pulling away the heavy debris and reaching out to drag him free.
Excitement and relief surged through him. He was finally getting out. Once he did, he would still be the powerful, high-ranking Governor of Beigang Star.
But he was one step too short.
His foot was caught in the steel frame.
He panicked, struggling — only wedging it tighter. He shouted for the guards to hurry and help him, but before they could move, a soft, familiar voice called out: “Papa, let me help you.”
Allison pulled back the hood of her red coat, revealing a tender, childish face — half of it scarred by burns, yet still showing traces of what must once have been a beautiful little girl.
Governor Malz froze, speechless. “…Allison? Why are you here?”
Before Allison could answer, he saw her raise a gun — and then he understood everything.
Bang! Bang!
Two gunshots echoed. Fresh blood trickled down, seeping through the wooden boards layer by layer — and splashed onto Gu Heng’s forehead.
The bright red stained his fair skin, and his refined features took on a chilling beauty. His slightly reddened eyes, cold and distant, lifted toward the falling blood — his black pupils languid and aristocratic, like a vampire awakening with faint amusement tugging at his lips.
More gunshots followed.
Then silence.
Gu Heng knew it was time to leave.
“Burn it.”
“Understood.”
In answer to the blood dripping from above, thick smoke began to rise from below.
Allison lowered her gun, then looked down at her father still gasping for breath — riddled with over a dozen bullets, yet still barely clinging to life.
Her terrible aim had spared him too long; he was still crawling, dragging his blood-soaked body toward the exit.
Allison easily stepped in front of him, at last looking down upon him — seeing his wretched, broken state. Her first question was quiet: “Papa… why won’t you beg me for mercy?”
Governor Malz’s mouth bled as he struggled to lift his head, meeting his daughter’s eyes for only a moment before lowering it again, crawling onward — so slowly that his blood seemed to flow faster than his movements.
Allison stood in silence, unmoving.
As the fire spread upward, reaching the top layer, the planks beneath them grew searing hot. Still, she kept her gaze fixed on him.
“Why won’t you speak?”
“I’ve already dug up Brother’s body from the garden. You and I aren’t related by blood. Why won’t you talk? Why won’t you beg? Why… did you save me back then?”
Governor Malz bowed his head lower, crawling across the burning floorboards, still struggling toward escape — yet unable to raise his eyes to his daughter even once.
That little girl — who had never once seen the real Governor Malz — all her memories of a father belonged only to him.
Allison bit her lip hard, tears slipping down silently.
Governor Malz lowered his head further. When her tears fell onto the burning boards, they turned instantly into white smoke. His scorched arm reached out through the flames — and pushed gently against Allison’s shoe.
Alison swayed slightly but didn’t move, letting the creeping flames swallow them both whole.
***
When Zuo Shihuan arrived, the platform was a sea of fire. His pupils contracted sharply as he moved closer, desperately searching for a figure amid the flames— afraid that he would see Gu Heng’s silhouette among them.
So when he spotted a wavering figure at the edge of the fire, all sense and caution flew out the window. Zuo Shihuan rushed forward and pulled the person down from the platform with one hand— only for a gun to tumble out from her grasp.
The person in his arms wore a red coat, its edges charred, and revealed the face of a girl of about fourteen or fifteen.
D*mn it—Zuo Shihuan’s mind instantly flashed to the figure he’d seen on the surveillance screen: that thin girl in a red coat. And the gun on the ground only confirmed her identity.
He couldn’t believe he had just saved a dangerous person. Looking back at the burning platform, there were no living silhouettes left in the fire.
But Alison looked up at him and smiled gratefully. “Thank you for saving me,” she said softly. “I should go pick my mom up from the mental hospital now.”
Zuo Shihuan’s heart was split—worry for Gu Heng’s safety warred with utter confusion about what he’d just witnessed.
Who had he saved, exactly?
“The shooter—it’s that girl! Catch her quickly!”
“Yes, we all saw it! The mall cameras must have recorded her shooting Governor Malz! Poor Governor Malz, such a kind and humorous man…”
Hearing those accusations, Alison only lowered her head and smiled faintly.
When the police arrived, she willingly extended her hands for the cuffs, a bright, innocent smile blooming across her face— so radiant it made Zuo Shihuan all the more unsettled.
He couldn’t dwell on it, though. That antisocial child criminal was nothing compared to his dread for Gu Heng’s fate. Standing beyond the barricade, he watched as firefighters rushed to put out the blaze.
Every passing second felt like he himself was trapped in that inferno— anxious, burning, waiting.
***
After the last traces of evidence were erased, Gu Heng walked calmly out from a corner of the mall. The blood on his brow had been wiped clean; even the bloodstained tissue was left to burn to ash in the fire.
At the door, he paused, as though sensing something, and turned back to glance toward the mall.
Smoke billowed into the sky. His brows furrowed slightly.
