Chapter 62: A Chance Encounter

Su Yutao’s fingers found a crack in the wall near the ground.

A narrow gap between two houses, dark and shadowed.

She turned sideways and squeezed in.

She was thin and short, and the crevice was just wide enough for her to slip through.

The thugs froze. “Damn it! She crawled in there!”

Su Yutao emerged on the other side. She scrambled up, dragging her bruised leg, and limped forward.

Behind her, curses rang out: “Climb over! Get over that wall!”

Something thudded against the bricks. More shouts. Footsteps.

They were coming over.

Su Yutao ran.

She didn’t know where, just forward.

Her leg ached so badly she gasped. Her knee was scraped raw, blood slicking her skin.

She couldn’t run anymore. Really couldn’t.

She leaned against the wall, panting, clutching Qiansui to her chest, trembling all over. The sonar was still active, but growing fainter.

She “saw” a silhouette ahead—someone crouched against the wall, a tiny red glow pulsing in their hand.

A cigarette.

Someone was smoking.

Su Yutao opened her mouth.

She wanted to scream for help, to beg, “Please help me.”

But no sound came out—only a rasping wheeze, like a broken bellows.

The figure didn’t move. They just brought the cigarette to their lips and took a drag.

The flame lit up a vague shape in the sonar—tall, with long hair, a good figure, crouching casually.

The thugs were over the wall now. Footsteps drawing closer. Curses growing clearer.

Panicked, Su Yutao reached out and grabbed the person’s hand.

It was soft and warm. They didn’t squeeze back, but they didn’t pull away either.

She tugged hard, trying to drag them along.

The person didn’t budge.

Qiansui’s voice hissed urgently in her ear: “Run! That’s—” Su Yutao couldn’t hear the rest.

Her heart was pounding too fast, blood roaring in her ears. Qiansui’s words sounded muffled, like through water.

All she knew was that someone was chasing her, and someone was crouching in front of her, smoking.

She had to pull this person along. She couldn’t let an innocent get caught up in this.

She yanked with all her might.

Finally, the person stood, letting themselves be pulled, following a few steps.

Su Yutao hobbled forward on her injured leg.

Every step felt like needles stabbing into her, but she didn’t dare stop.

The thugs’ footsteps were almost upon her. Their curses were distinct now.

She couldn’t run. Really couldn’t.

Her leg hurt so much her vision darkened. Her muscles turned to jelly.

She stopped, gasping, and turned to “look” behind her—the thugs’ outlines were nearly on them.

Then she looked at the person beside her—the one she’d been dragging along, silent and unresisting, still holding that cigarette.

Su Yutao let go.

She tugged at their sleeve and pointed behind them. Go.

Don’t worry about me.

Go!

The person didn’t move.

Desperate, she pushed them. Leave!

Get out of here!

Still, they didn’t move.

The thugs caught up. They were panting, cursing: “Run! Why aren’t you running? Slipping through that hole, damn—”

Then they saw who was standing next to Su Yutao.

The person stepped out from the wall, and the streetlight caught their face—beautiful, delicate features, makeup, deep red lips, long hair falling over their shoulders, wearing a tight black dress that accentuated every curve.

She leaned against the wall, cigarette dangling from her lips, eyes narrowed as she studied the thugs like they were bugs.

The thugs froze.

Someone swallowed. Someone else stared at her figure.

The leader regained his nerve, raising his voice: “Who the hell are you? Mind your own business!”

The woman took the cigarette from her lips and blew out a puff of smoke.

She ignored him and looked down at Su Yutao—the little blind girl lying there, knee scraped, blood matting her leg, one slipper gone, bare foot on gravel, trembling all over.

She had tried to drag her away, push her to safety, told her to leave her behind. Couldn’t even save herself, but wanted to save others.

The woman let out a soft laugh.

It was light, musical, like a bell.

She dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her heel.

Then she raised her head, looking at the thugs, her voice lazy: “Which one of you touched her?”

The leader stepped forward. “I did. So what? Who are you? What is she to you?”

The woman tilted her head, considering. “Don’t know her. Picked her up off the street.”

She glanced at Su Yutao again and added, “Cute little thing.”

The leader bristled at her attitude and rushed forward. “You mother—”

Before he could finish, the woman grabbed his hair, yanked his head down, and slammed her knee up.

A dull thud. His face met her knee. Blood sprayed from his nose. Two teeth flew out.

He screamed, fell backward, clutching his face and writhing on the ground.

The other thugs stood frozen.

The woman didn’t stop. She walked over, stomped on his wrist, bent down, and picked up a brick from the ground.

She weighed it in her hand, then swung it down on his arm.

Crack.

A clean, sharp sound.

The thug’s screams grew louder. His arm bent at an impossible angle.

The woman released her foot, stood up, and looked at the remaining thugs.

She smiled—a beautiful smile, but cold enough to send chills. “Who’s next?”

The remaining three turned and ran.

She didn’t pursue. Instead, she bent down, picked up the half-brick that had fallen from the leader’s hand, and tossed it lightly.

Then she threw.

The brick struck the back of the last thug’s head.

*Thud.* A muffled grunt. He fell flat on his face and lay still.

The other two ran faster.

The woman walked over to the fallen thug and looked down at him.

She lifted her foot and stamped on his shin.

*Crack.*

Another one.

He was unconscious now. Silent.

She moved on.

The last two had reached the mouth of the alley—one dashing out into the street, the other scaling a wall.

She ignored the climber and went after the fleeing one, grabbing him by the back of his neck and dragging him back.

He was shaking so hard his pants were wet. “Sp-spare me! Please, miss—we won’t do it again, I swear!”

The woman looked at him, her voice still lazy. “Who are you calling ‘miss’?”

She reached out, pinched his ear, and with a flash of cold steel—

*Squelch.*

His ear came off.

The thug’s scream turned into a shriek. He rolled on the ground, hands clamped over the wound, blood seeping through his fingers.

The woman dropped the ear and flicked the blood off her hand.

She turned toward the last thug, still perched on the wall.

He was trembling, looking at her like she was a demon.

She smiled and beckoned him.

Terrified, he fell off the wall. A cry from the other side, then the sound of retreating footsteps.

The alley fell silent.

Only the thug with the broken arm continued moaning, the one knocked out lay motionless, the one missing his ear writhed on the ground, and the leader—nose shattered, teeth missing—cowered in the corner, face covered.

Su Yutao lay on the ground, clutching Qiansui, trembling.

Her leg hurt. Her knee hurt. Blood was all over her leg. She had only one slipper; her bare foot felt cold on the sharp stones.

She didn’t know who that woman was. Why she helped her. Why she left.

All she knew was she had witnessed killing again. Heard bones breaking. Smelled blood.

Footsteps returned.

*Tap, tap, tap.* Heels, steady and slow.

Su Yutao lifted her head, “looking” as the silhouette walked back.

The woman crouched in front of her, tilting her head. She reached out and poked Su Yutao’s cheek.

Her nails were long, painted deep red. Cold against the skin.

Su Yutao flinched, but didn’t move away. The woman poked again, softer this time, like she was prodding a small animal.

“Little thing,” she said, her voice lazy, carrying a hint of amusement.

“What’s your name?”

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