The darkness had fully settled as I made my way to meet Ming. To be honest, I had nothing left to say to him. Yet, after all the chaos and struggles I had endured, I felt a strange, nagging need to see him.
He was standing in front of the same building where we first met—the place where he had lied, claiming to be an idol. He was leaning against his car, the headlights cutting through the night, left wide open.
I pointed a finger toward the glowing lamps. "The lights are on, Ming. I see you forgot to turn them off."
Ming didn't move. "I didn't forget. I intended to light the path for you."
I tilted my head, a faint smirk playing on my lips. "Why? Do you think I fear the dark, after everything you've learned about me? I'm not that girl you met in the store anymore—the one whose manager scolded her. I am someone else now. Someone who fears nothing."
Ming sighed, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "I wonder what Tian Long did to you to make you lose your feminine side so completely. Sometimes, I doubt you're even human. You seem like a robot programmed only for combat."
I let out a soft, dry laugh. "I'm not a robot. I'm flesh and blood. Look." I reached down and gave my own arm a sharp pinch, feeling the sting.
"Mmh, I believe you," Ming said, though his voice remained heavy. "But tell me, why did you ask to meet so suddenly? Especially after I told you I'm digging into the files of both you and your father."
"I just wanted a friendly conversation," I whispered, looking away. "With a normal person. Someone who isn't part of the gangs."
A heavy silence fell between us. We stood there, watching the city lights shimmering in the distance, listening to the rhythmic hum of traffic and the screeching of tires on the asphalt. The distant murmur of passersby felt like a background track to our stillness.
In truth, Mr. Ming was undeniably handsome. I felt a mysterious affection toward that face—a weakness for his silent, masculine presence. He was nothing like the men in the brutal world I belonged to.
A deep intuition whispered to me that he was exactly the kind of man I would have loved if I had a normal life. If I were just a regular girl.
But I didn't dare say it out loud.
A wave of regret washed over me, a sense of smallness. The longer I waited for something that would never come, the more I realized these dreams were impossible. A girl like me didn't get a happy ending with a man like Ming.
He snapped his fingers in front of my face, breaking my trance. "What's occupying your mind so much?"
"Nothing," I lied. "Just watching the people passing by."
"Right. I have a question," Ming said, his tone turning serious. "What is your name?"
I blinked, confused. "Are you joking? My name is S."
"I know your code name is S," he countered, stepping closer. "But your real name. For example, I am Ming. Do you understand what I mean?"
I looked into his eyes, feeling a void where a name should be. "I don't have a name like yours. My name is just S."
I took a slow sip, letting the bitter taste of the coffee linger on my tongue. It tasted like my reality—dark, sharp, and wakeful. For a second, I imagined what it would be like to just be... 'normal.' No blood on my hands, no secrets in my eyes, just a girl standing in the night with a man who looked at her as a person, not a weapon."
"I see," he muttered softly.
We stood side by side, sipping hot coffee the steam from the cup rose in thin, ghostly spirals between us, as if trying to bridge the distance that separated our two worlds. I could feel the heat seeping through my fingers, a stark contrast to the icy void that usually filled my chest when I was on a mission.As the cold night breeze toyed with my hair. For the first time in my life, I felt like a girl standing next to a man she... cared for.
"Thank you for this night, Mr. Ming," I whispered, the words barely audible even to myself.
Suddenly, the moment of peace was shattered. A dark shadow flickered with lightning speed in the corner of my eye. Someone was watching.
I glanced at Ming; he was relaxed, staring at the road, oblivious to the movement. I didn't say a word. Slowly, I turned my head back, searching the darkness for the eyes that were haunting my silhouette.