After the night.
There was no return.
No direction either.
The mountain lay behind them.
Out of sight.
As if severed.
Guang led Shun down the slope.
No lights.
The ground was uneven.
But passable.
They did not stop.
Did not speak.
Did not look back.
At the foot of the mountain—
City lights in the distance.
Lit.
But not approaching.
They entered the streets.
The crowd moved normally.
Headlights passed back and forth.
No one noticed them.
Like an ordinary night.
Screens along the roadside were lit.
Volume low.
News looping.
The image was stable.
The anchor's tone calm:
"A well-known business figure, Mr. Bai, was killed last night during a home invasion at his private residence. Police have launched an investigation."
The image switched.
A distant shot of the villa.
Flashing lights.
Perimeter sealed.
No details.
Only distance.
The report continued:
"Preliminary assessment indicates organized crime. Suspects are still at large."
The voice repeated.
Looping.
Unchanged.
Shun stopped.
Her gaze fixed on the screen.
She did not speak.
As if confirming something.
Guang saw it.
He raised his hand.
Blocked her view.
Fast.
Not forceful.
But final.
He said:
"Don't look."
Shun did not resist.
Her sight was covered.
She did not look again.
She did not ask.
Guang lowered his hand.
The broadcast continued.
Uninterrupted.
They left.
Turned into another street.
Fewer people.
Darker lights.
The wind grew colder.
They walked.
No destination.
Just leaving.
Guang stopped.
He glanced around.
Then said:
"We find someone."
Shun looked at him.
Did not ask who.
Guang continued:
"Confirm the situation first."
They changed direction.
Toward familiar ground.
People he knew.
Sources of information.
Or a temporary place to stay.
First place.
Door closed.
Lights on.
Someone inside.
Guang rang the bell.
No response.
He rang again.
Footsteps inside.
Stopped behind the door.
Did not open.
A voice, lowered:
"Who is it?"
Guang answered:
"It's me."
Silence.
Then:
"Not convenient now. Please leave."
No more words.
Footsteps retreated.
Lights remained on.
No one returned.
Guang stood a moment.
Did not ring again.
He turned and left.
Second place.
The door opened a crack.
The person saw him.
Expression changed.
Not surprise.
Caution.
"You shouldn't be here."
Guang looked at him:
"What happened?"
No answer.
Only:
"You staying here will bring trouble."
A slight tilt of the head—
Indicating the street corner.
Someone stood there.
Waiting, perhaps.
Not moving.
But watching.
The door shut immediately.
No more words.
Third place.
Before getting close—
Guang stopped.
Two people across the street.
Not moving.
Not interacting.
Positioned to cover the entrance.
No attempt to hide.
As if meant to be seen.
Guang did not approach.
He turned.
Changed direction.
They kept walking.
No more attempts.
Guang said nothing about finding anyone again.
He had confirmed.
Not isolated.
Total.
Everyone he knew—
Watched.
Every path—
Blocked.
They reached a more remote street.
Fewer people.
Half the shops closed.
Sparse lighting.
Colder wind.
Shun's steps slowed slightly.
Guang noticed.
Said nothing.
They kept walking.
Time stretched.
No reference.
Just walking.
Money was low.
He stopped at a convenience store.
Bought basic food.
No extra choices.
He handed part to Shun.
She took it.
Did not speak.
They sat by the roadside.
Uncovered.
Finished eating.
Kept moving.
Night passed.
Day came.
Light sharpened.
More people.
They became less noticeable.
And more exposed.
Nowhere to stop.
Nowhere to hide.
They entered the crowd.
Left the crowd.
No fixed direction.
Time continued.
Second day.
Money decreased.
Third day.
Almost gone.
No more stores.
Only stopping outside.
Searching for places to rest.
Under bridges.
Empty lots.
Corners.
No pattern.
Shun spoke less.
Not silence—
Reduced response.
She walked slower.
But did not stop.
Guang saw.
Said nothing.
He could not change the pace.
Fourth day.
Colder.
Snow began.
Light.
But constant.
Settling on clothes.
Not melting immediately.
Wind carried dampness.
They stood at a street corner.
No shelter.
Shun's breathing grew heavier.
She paused once.
Brief.
Then continued.
Guang watched her.
Said nothing.
They found an overhang.
Not full cover.
But enough to stand.
Shun leaned against the wall.
Did not sit.
Her forehead was hot.
Guang reached out.
The moment he touched—
He paused.
The temperature was wrong.
Not just cold.
Fever.
Shun said nothing.
Her vision blurred.
Unfocused.
Her body swayed slightly.
Then lost support.
Guang caught her.
Did not let her fall.
She had no consciousness.
Breathing remained.
Unstable.
Guang stood still.
Did not move.
He looked at the street.
People passed.
No one stopped.
No one noticed.
He lowered his head.
Looked at Shun.
No sound.
Nowhere to go.
No one to find.
No money.
No time.
He tried to sort possibilities.
One by one—
Eliminated.
No result.
He stood there.
Time slowed.
Snow kept falling.
On his hand.
No sensation.
He stopped thinking.
Stopped evaluating.
Just stood.
As if fixed.
The air quieted.
Sound stretched away.
Everything around him receded.
His breathing grew shallow.
His gaze did not change.
But focus no longer moved.
Beside him—
A point of light appeared.
Very small.
Faint blue.
Like reflection.
But with no source.
It hovered in the air.
Did not fall.
Then a second.
A third.
Not many.
But increasing.
Surrounding him.
No trajectory.
No pattern.
Just existing.
Guang did not look.
Did not notice.
The lights gathered slowly.
No sound.
No change.
Only more.
The air felt slightly disturbed.
No temperature shift.
But different.
In the distance—
A car slowed.
No sudden brake.
Just natural deceleration.
Black.
Clean.
Stopped not far from them.
The door opened.
A man stepped out.
Gray-white hair.
Middle-aged to elderly.
Steady steps.
No haste.
He glanced around.
Then looked at Guang.
No surprise.
No question.
As if confirming.
He walked closer.
Stopped a few steps away.
His gaze fell on the faint blue lights.
No reaction.
Then back to Guang.
He said:
"Finally found you."
A brief pause.
"I'm an old friend of Chairman Bai."
Guang did not respond.
His gaze remained on Shun.
The man glanced at her.
Tone unchanged:
"She can't be delayed in this condition. It will become irreversible."
A brief pause.
"If you keep standing here, she will die."
Snow continued to fall.
People still passed.
No one stopped.
The man looked at Guang:
"You don't have another choice."
Guang raised his head.
Looked at him for the first time.
No name asked.
No identity confirmed.
Just looked.
The man did not explain.
Only said:
"Get in."
The car door remained open.
Inside—dark.
Structure unclear.
No sound.
Guang did not think further.
He picked Shun up.
Stood.
Walked toward the car.
Without stopping.