A blue Mercedes tore down the street, its engine howling like an azure beast slipping its leash. Bloo sat at the wheel, face a mask of stone, hands steady as anchors. “I told you the plan,” he said, voice cold as steel in winter wind. “If you get your nose bloodied, I’m not stepping in.”

Xiao Qianxue lounged beside him, black-and-white bodysuit hugging her like midnight frost over marble, her Eternal Twin Stars resting by her thigh like twin moons in their cradles. Excitement rose first in her chest, bright as fireworks. Then she laughed, light as chimes in a breeze. “They can try to hit me first. If this were me before... I’d turn those small fry into mince in a couple moves.”

Her golden hair, tied yet restless, lifted in the window draft like sunlit wheat. A teasing curve touched her lips, and in her amber eyes flickered the spark of a long-awaited reunion, like a lamp relit at dusk.

“Tell me this won’t blow our cover,” she said, breath a little tight, fingers tugging at the suit’s chest seam like pulling open a stubborn window.

“It won’t,” Bloo said, calm as deep water. “So go have fun.”

—

Back then—after another month of quiet days—the mornings became knives and fire. Xiao Qianxue woke to merciless drills and relentless correction, and at night she fell into sleep like a stone into a well. Day after day, her body and skill shed their old skin like a snake in spring, sharpness showing like frost on glass.

The strangeness piled up like snow. One night, Lu Ke ignored her squirming protests, pinned her to the bed—hold your thoughts—and gave her a full-body massage, steady as a healer setting bones. He only told his little sister to be careful, but he felt it in his bones: she was putting her body through storms every day, yet on the surface she was calm as a lake. At last, the day to test results arrived.

“Hey, Xiaoxue, we’ve got a job today!” The moment the two stepped into the underground room, Hoshina popped into view, voice bright as a bell.

“Not training? What job?” Xiao Qianxue asked, curiosity bubbling up like spring water before her words.

“Nonono!” Hoshina wagged a finger under the blonde girl’s nose, eyes gleaming like neon. “After last night’s deep talk with Bloo—oh my, Blue really went too hard, and I was so—”

Blue sparks crackled over Bloo’s fingers like lightning nipping at the air.

“Ahem! So we decided to give you a mission!” Hoshina rushed on, voice rising like a kite catching wind before a storm broke in the room.

“Cut it out. What’s the job?” Xiao Qianxue brushed her golden fringe behind one ear, a small motion like tucking a petal. Expectation warmed her pulse like tea.

“There’s a small outpost nearby,” Hoshina said, and with a sweep of her hand a massive map bloomed in the air like a banner. Two red dots glowed, twin embers on dark paper.

“So, we’re wiping them out?” Xiao Qianxue’s eyes narrowed, a blade sliding from its sheath.

“Exactly. It’s an Ouyang Clan spot.” Hoshina punched the air with a tiny fist, cute and fierce like a sparrow squaring up.

“Won’t that expose us?”

“No need to worry,” the pink-haired virtual girl said, confidence ringing like a temple bell. “I’ll make their disappearance like dust on the road—here, then gone. Their leader’s got some bite, but weaker than Ouyang Si by a lot.”

“That’ll do. When do we move?” Anticipation flared in Xiao Qianxue like a match struck in the dark.

“Now.”

—

Cut back to the present. “Ready?” The blue Mercedes slipped into an unremarkable alley, quiet as a cat in shade. The golden-haired girl hugged a tablet, studying routes and bodies like a hawk reading currents.

“Only twenty-something,” she said, eyes calm as winter stars. “Boss might be a hassle. The rest are snack-sized.” She handed the pad back to Bloo, clipped magazines and twin pistols at her waist, then reached into the back seat for tactical goggles, sliding them on like a second eyelid of night.

“I’ll wait here,” Bloo said, voice low like distant thunder. “If it gets tricky, you know what to do.” His tone toward Xiao Qianxue had shifted like season to season; from one angle, she was his student.

“Relax.” Her smile flashed like sun off a blade. She shut the door, sprang off the wall like a swallow, and in a couple of bounds she was on the roof, a shadow slipping toward her prey.

—

“Nothing big lately. Life’s dull as stale beer.” In a sealed tavern, a waiter rubbed a plate, slow as drifting ash.

“This is ‘nothing big’?” Another waiter leaned on the bar like a bored cat. “Heard a nasty esper showed up, vampiric flavor. Even Ouyang Si, rank ten in the organization, went out.”

“You mean that cute blonde? Supposedly Lin Fan’s girlfriend. The Lin Clan’s been burning coin like incense to find her.” The first waiter set the plate down, attention swinging over like a compass needle.

“Sure, but the Lin Clan can’t match our Ouyang Clan,” pride creeping in like wine to the face. “Still, that girl’s no joke. She slaughtered SWAT like chickens. Me, I can maybe handle four or five at best.”

“Yeah. If only we could get that strong someday.”

Up on the roof, Xiao Qianxue’s intent settled first, cool and sharp as moonlight on water. “Three upstairs. Basement’s spread thin, easy to pick off one by one,” she murmured, breath steady as a metronome.

She killed the top-floor cameras, fingers quick as raindrops. Through thermal mode, the first floor glowed like embers under ash. The basement was wrapped in special materials; the thermal couldn’t bite through, a wall of night she couldn’t pierce.

“So Lin Fan is looking for me,” she thought, a pout tugging at her lip like a ripple on still water. “But it’s not time to reach out. I can’t guard myself yet.” She pressed the device in her palm.

Pop. White light flooded the first floor like a wave breaking at noon.

“What’s happening?” “Enemy attack?” The three waiters downstairs grabbed at air, eyes scorched white as snow.

“Bye-bye.” Xiao Qianxue was already in a corner, a pale ghost with golden eyes. The Eternal Twin Stars rose, fitted with suppressors that drank sound like sand drinks rain. Thup. Thup. Two heads snapped back, red blossoms opening and dying like quick roses.

The third, still blind, sensed the shadow like a rat feeling tremor. He surged faster, rolled, and drew a pistol in one smooth flare.

Thup. A soft report, then his skull opened like a split pomegranate. In her sight, his movements crawled like a turtle crossing frost; no matter how he twisted, it was useless. The whole exchange lived and died in two heartbeats.

“Not bad reflexes,” she said softly, voice level as a line of ink. “If it were a standard agent, he might’ve been the one going down.” She ghosted to the bar, pushed aside a cabinet like sliding a shoji.

“First floor clear.”