The man vanished into the bustling city, but Xiào had a job to finish. He grabbed the delivery box and made his way to the destination. Stopping at the door, he rang the bell.

  Footsteps echoed from inside, approaching the entrance.

  "Who is it?"

  "Your delivery, sir."

  The door swung open, revealing a man with an irritated expression.

  "How long was I supposed to wait for this?" he snapped.

  Xiào remained unfazed. Late deliveries weren’t new to him—nor were angry customers. He had long since learned to handle situations like this.

  "I apologize for the delay, sir. If you verify the delivery, you'll receive a discount coupon for your next order as compensation for the delivery."

  The man's irritation eased slightly. He accepted the package, tapped on his phone to confirm the delivery, and soon after, a notification popped up for the discount. Without another word, he slammed the door shut.

  Xiào let out a tired sigh and walked toward his scooter. His body felt heavy with exhaustion. Three things filled his mind—shower, food, sleep.

  As he started the scooter, the city was finally beginning to settle down. The streets felt quieter, the neon signs flickering against the night. Before his thoughts could drift back to the alleyway incident, he arrived at his apartment.

  His room was on the sixth floor, so he began the slow climb up the stairs. Step by step. Each one is heavier than the last. By the time he reached his door, all he wanted was to collapse.

  The moment he stepped inside, he headed straight for the shower. Warm water cascaded down his shoulders, washing away the fatigue of the day. His eyes drifted shut.

  "Ahh... this is good."

  For a fleeting moment, his mind wandered back to the alleyway. Has it really happened? It felt almost like a dream.

  Groooowl!

  His stomach made its presence known. With a sigh, he quickly rinsed off. Food first. Everything else could wait.

  Xiào changed into his pajamas and stepped into the kitchen. Opening the cupboard above the induction cooker, he found it stocked with instant ramen. He grabbed one, then placed an iron kettle filled with water on the induction cooker. As he waited, he picked up a ramen cup from the counter, peeled back the lid, and revealed the tightly packed noodles inside. A small pouch of powdered seasoning and dried vegetables rested on top.

  He tore it open and sprinkled the contents over the noodles.

  Groooowl!

  His stomach protested impatiently. He glanced at the induction cooker—it would take a few more minutes.

  Soon, the water began to bubble and hiss, steam curling into the air. The moment it reached a rolling boil, he turned off the heat and carefully poured the steaming water into the ramen cup, filling it just to the line. The sharp, savory scent of seasoning hit him, making his hunger even worse.

  He placed the lid back down and set his chopsticks over the top to hold it in place. Three minutes. That’s all he had to wait.

  Time had never moved so slowly.

  Finally, he peeled back the lid, releasing the rich aroma of broth and spices. He picked up his chopsticks, lifted a steaming bundle of noodles, and blew gently before taking the first bite.

  "Ahh, this hits the spot."

  Once he finished, he tossed the waste into the trash. Exhaustion weighed on him. The next thing he remembered was lying on his bed. Before he knew it, sleep had taken him.

  ---

  When he opened his eyes, he was back in the alley where he had met that thing. But now, the alley stretched endlessly into the darkness.

  A voice echoed behind him.

  Slowly, Xiào turned.

  The monster was there—a twisting shadow with a void for a face. It reached toward him, its movements slow and deliberate.

  He couldn’t move. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t obey.

  The thing was inches from his face now. Its hands stretched forward—

  Beep beep beep beep!

  Xiào jolted awake, his breath ragged. His eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings.

  Just a dream.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned to the clock. It was already time to wake up.

  His body begged for more sleep, but he had no choice—he had a class to attend.

  Dragging himself up, he went through the motions—washing his face, tossing his laundry into the bucket, and grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He couldn’t even remember when he had put them there.

  With a sigh, he threw them into the microwave and, in the meantime, made himself a cup of coffee.Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The microwave signaled that the food was ready.

  Xiào took it out and bit into it—then paused.

  Something was off. The taste was stale, almost fungi-like. He frowned but didn’t really mind.

  His Next door lived an Old Lady who he calls her Pó . Normally, she would bring him food, but she had been hospitalized for a few days now.

  He glanced at the clock—he still had time. Maybe he should visit her. He had promised to water her plants, after all.

  Finishing his meal, he grabbed the watering can. There wasn’t much water left, but there were only a few plants to take care of. After tending to them, he returned to his room.

  Time was running out.

  If he left now, he could visit Old Lady Po and still make it to class on time. Every minute counted.

  He quickly threw on a shirt and pants, then rushed out the door. Halfway down the hall, he suddenly remembered—he hadn’t locked it.

  Damn it.

  Muttering under his breath, he turned back, locked it properly, and hurried to his scooter.

  The streets were already alive with their usual morning chaos. People rushed to work, students hurried to class, traffic buzzed like an unending symphony. Xiào weaved through it like he always did.

  At a red light, he came to a slow stop, his mind drifting back to last night’s dream.

  He tried to shake it off, but it disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. That thing... The way it reached for him. It unsettled him. No—it scared him.

  A blaring horn snapped him out of it.

  "The hell are you doing, kid? Move already!" someone shouted.

  Xiào gripped the handlebars and rode forward, merging into the city's relentless flow.

  ---

  At the hospital, he knew exactly where to go—he had visited before. Wasting no time, he reached the hospital ward where Old Lady Po was admitted and knocked on the door.

  "It's me, Xiào."

  Old Lady Po was happy to hear Xiào's voice. "Come in, dear."

  He stepped inside. She was sitting upright, looking as warm as ever despite her frail state.

  "How are you?" he asked, taking a seat near her bed.

  She smiled. "I'm doing fine, my boy. Did you water the plants?"

  "I've been watering the plants every day," he informed her.

  She studied his face for a moment. "Something's bothering you."

  Xiào blinked. He hadn't expected her to notice.

  "It’s just... things," he muttered.

  She sighed knowingly. "You're stronger than you think, child. Whatever it is, you'll get through it."

  Her words settled in his mind.

  Then, she squinted at the clock. "Don’t you have school?"

  Xiào chuckled. "Xiào (chuckling): "Right... school." He didn’t bother correcting her—explaining his course to her would take forever.

  He stood up. "I’ll come again."

  She gave him a gentle smile as he left.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  On his way to the scooter, he thought about what she had said.

  Maybe... he should see that man again.

  If what the man said was true, he was a danger to those around him.

  Maybe he’d take the day off.

  But first—class.

  A glance at his watch—Shit. I’m late!

  He sped off as fast as he could without breaking any rules.

  ---

  By the time he reached campus, class had already started.

  ""Xiào ran to his class, but he was late. As he reached the entrance, the inspector immediately noticed his presence.

  Seeing xiào the man's expression darkened the moment he saw him.

  Xiào had already been warned—one more late arrival, and he’d be suspended. This was his fifth consecutive time being late.

  "You’re late again, Xiào," the instructor said, his voice sharp.

  "I’m sorry," Xiào answered quickly. "I had to visit a neighbor in the hospital."

  The instructor remained unimpressed It's a good thing you always have an excuse. But this time, I can’t help you. You were warned—you’re suspended."

  Xiào sighed. Right. He had completely forgotten about that. Yesterday had been a mess.

  "So… how many days?" he asked, already bracing for the answer.

  His instructor’s expression was firm. "One week. I suggest you use the time wisely. Now move along—I have a class to teach."

  Xiào left, frustration creeping in.

  What the hell am I supposed to do for a whole week?

  Then, a thought struck him.

  The man from the alley.

  Should I go see him?

  Grooowl!.

  His stomach interrupted his thoughts.

  Food first. Thinking later.

  There was a food stall near the metro station that sold Xiaolongbao.

  Decision made, he started his scooter. It wasn’t far.The lunch rush hadn’t started yet. As Xiào pulled up, the air was thick with the aroma of broth and freshly steamed dumplings. Behind the cart, a middle-aged vendor lifted the lid off a bamboo steamer, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam.

  "One basket should be enough," Xiào said.

  The vendor nodded and moved swiftly to prepare the order. "Do you want vinegar?"

  Xiào hesitated for a second before replying, "Yes, thank you."

  A moment later, the vendor handed him a small tray with the dumplings and a dish of dark vinegar. The Xiaolongbao were perfectly round, their thin dough stretched tight over the steaming broth inside. He picked one up carefully with his chopsticks, biting just enough to let the broth cool before slurping it up.

  It burned his tongue slightly, but the taste was worth it.

  As he ate, his thoughts drifted back to what the man in the alley had said.

  "You're in danger, Xiào."

  Maybe he was right.

  Xiào finished his meal, paid the vendor, and walked to his scooter. He had made up his mind—he was going to meet the man. He delivered in that area often and knew the streets like the back of his hand.

  He started the engine and rode off.

  ---

  Minutes later, he arrived at the alley and squeezed the brakes, bringing the scooter to a stop. He stepped off and looked around.

  Nothing.

  "Alright, I'm here," he muttered. "You said to come for answers."

  Silence.

  Xiào took a deep breath and called out, "You! The sword guy! Show yourself!"

  Still nothing.

  His patience snapped. "I know what I saw! That thing wasn’t normal! And you—you knew what it was! So stop hiding and give me some answers!"

  For a moment, nothing.

  Then—footsteps.

  Xiào turned sharply.

  The man from before stepped into the alley, his long black coat shifting slightly in the wind. His expression was unreadable.

  "Didn’t think you’d come back so soon," he said.

  Xiào didn’t have a response.

  The man gave a small nod. "No problem. My name is Chengxi Huang. I'm an officer of White Lotus."

  Xiào crossed his arms. "And what exactly is White Lotus?"

  Huang studied him for a moment. "We can talk somewhere more comfortable."

  ---

  A short while later, they were seated inside a small café.

  Before Xiào could speak, a waitress approached. "Can I take your order?"

  Huang glanced at him. "Would you like something?"

  Xiào shook his head.

  Huang turned back to the waitress with a polite smile. "A hot black coffee, no sugar."

  "Alright," she said with a smile. "It'll be ready in just a few minutes."

  Without waiting for a response, she walked away, disappearing behind the counter. The faint hum of the espresso machine filled the air, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee drifting through the café.

  Huang turned back to Xiào, his expression unreadable. "So, you want to know about White Lotus?"

  Xiào leaned forward. "Obviously."

  Huang’s face remained neutral. "White Lotus is an organization that has existed for centuries. We track, contain, or—if necessary—dispose of anomalies. Like the thing you saw yesterday."

  Xiào exhaled. "And what exactly was that thing?"

  Huang was about to answer when the waitress returned, setting a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. "Your black coffee, no sugar."

  "Thank you," Huang said, watching her until she walked away.

  He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "We call them Malice. Even we don’t fully understand them. We're still discovering what they are."

  Before Xiào could press further, Huang’s phone rang.

  He answered immediately, listening in silence. After a long pause, he let out a quiet sigh, placed the phone down, and tapped his fingers against the table.

  "I have to go. Urgent business," he said, standing up. "I'll meet you tomorrow at your apartment."

  Xiào opened his mouth to protest, but Huang placed a few bills on the table. "Pay with this when the bill comes."

  Then, without another word, he turned and walked out.Xiào sat back, watching Huang vanish into the midday crowds. The city pulsed with life—cars honking, vendors calling out, the rhythmic footsteps of countless pedestrians filling the air.

  But elsewhere, in a place long forgotten, chaos had already begun.

  An abandoned district, once thriving, now stood in ruin. Cracked roads stretched between crumbling buildings, their shattered windows and graffiti-covered walls whispering stories of a lost past. Rusted streetlights flickered weakly, the last remnants of a time when this place still had life.

  Then came the sound of static.

  A blue streak of energy shot forward, ripping through the fractured pavement as it raced toward a lone figure standing in the middle of the street.

  He didn’t flinch. Instead, he raised a hand.

  The earth answered.

  Chunks of concrete tore free from the ground, rising in an instant to form a jagged wall. The lightning bolt struck, sending cracks spider webbing through the stone, but the barrier held.

  From beyond the smoldering defense, a voice rang out—calm, confident.

  "Tch. You blocked that? Not bad."

  The wall crumbled. A young man stepped forward, shaking his hand as electricity crackled between his fingertips. His dark coat fluttered slightly from the residual static in the air. Sharp, calculating eyes locked onto his opponent.

  The other fighter—a rugged-looking man in dust-covered clothes, his hands worn like they had shaped mountains—cracked his knuckles. He let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders.

  "You always start fights like that?" he asked.

  The electricity user smirked. "Only when I’m in a hurry."

  And then, he was gone.

  A blur. A streak of blue light.

  Kai barely had time to react before a lightning-charged fist came flying toward his face. He twisted his body, narrowly dodging, but the static from the punch sent a sharp jolt through his nerves.

  Yang Jian was already moving again—fast. He spun, delivering a brutal kick aimed at Kai’s ribs.

  Kai slammed his foot down.

  The ground answered.

  A stone pillar erupted upward, catching Yang Jian mid-motion and forcing him into a backflip. He landed lightly, fingertips sparking as he steadied himself.

  Kai exhaled, shaking out his hand. "You're quick, but you rely too much on speed."Yang Jian grinned. "And you? You just stand there, waiting to get hit?"

  No more words.

  They lunged.

  A storm of fists, elbows, and knees. The fight was brutal—Yang Jian moved like lightning itself, strikingly sharp and precise, darting in and out. Kai, in contrast, stood his ground, turning the environment into his weapon.

  A punch from Yang Jian—Kai caught it, twisting his wrist and forcing him off balance.

  A sudden knee—Kai ducked, slamming a fist into the pavement. Shards of stone erupted upward, forcing Yang Jian back.

  Gritting his teeth, Yang Jian felt the electricity build at his fingertips. "Fine. Let’s turn it up."

  Before Kai could react, Yang Jian thrust his palm forward.

  A wave of lightning erupted.

  For a split second, the abandoned buildings flashed with blinding light as the bolt tore through the air.

  Kai’s eyes narrowed. No time to dodge.

  He raised both hands—the earth around him responded, stone and debris rushing to his command.

  The lightning struck.

  A deafening explosion.

  Dust and rubble filled the air. A deep scorch mark lined the street.

  At a distance, Yang Jian watched the smoke settle.

  And when it cleared—Kai was still standing.

  But barely. His body was battered, his breath uneven.

  Yang Jian exhaled, almost pitying him. "It's useless to come after me. White Lotus and I are not allies."

  Kai opened his mouth to respond, but his body gave out. He collapsed. Unconscious.

  Yang Jian stood there for a moment. Then, without a word, he vanished.

  ---

  When Kai woke up, it was too late.

  Footsteps.

  He tensed, then turned.

  Standing behind him was none other than Changxi Huang.

  "What were you thinking?" Huang’s voice carried an unmistakable malice. "A minor-grade Malice shouldn’t have left you in this condition."

  Kai looked down, frustration tightening his jaw.

  "Yang Jian was here."

  Huang’s expression darkened. "How many times do I have to tell you not to confront him?" He stepped closer, eyes sharp. "You're just an officer-in-training. You have orders—follow them."

  Kai forced himself to his feet, barely suppressing the tremble in his hands. He met Huang’s cold stare, his jaw tightening.“Understood.”

  ---

  Elsewhere…

  A lone figure stood, gazing over the city.

  To be continued…