Kangxin didn’t seem like a fool. She absorbed every basic lesson Hu Ming taught her.
More importantly, she studied with genuine focus, jotting down notes on anything she didn’t grasp.
No wonder teachers favored students like her—it gave them real satisfaction.
After a while, Hu Ming finally let Kangxin leave.
She clutched the books he’d bought her, only departing after confirming he wouldn’t eat a late-night snack.
Hu Ming lay on his bed, staring at the night sky. A wave of emptiness washed over him.
Hands behind his head, he wondered how long this peaceful life would last.
Where would he go after leaving the Khan Family?
What would he do once he found stability? Return to his old line of work? He had no desire for that knife-edge existence anymore.
For now, Kangxin would stay by his side—and he had to keep her safe.
Rare irritation stirred within him as the moon hung high in the dark night.
After much thought, Hu Ming got up, changed clothes, and slipped out the window.
No one noticed a shadow darting from the Khan Family’s yard.
Not even the surveillance cameras caught his trace. Everything seemed perfectly normal.
...
Cars sped past. Streetlights blinked on one by one, flooding the road with warm light. Under their orange glow, the asphalt softened into a gentle blend of brown, yellow, and metallic sheen.
Skyscrapers loomed overhead. Streets pulsed with traffic and crowds like a restless tide. Neon signs glared, blurring the line between reality and illusion.
Hu Ming walked alone, hands in his pockets.
He wore a light blue trench coat and rimless glasses.
Gazing at the neon-lit streets, he felt transported back to post-mission nights—grabbing late-night snacks at random stalls.
He sat at a barbecue stall and ordered a few skewers.
The scent of cumin in the air reminded him he was still alive.
Though being trapped in the sewers had been accidental, he’d been hunted then—due to certain special circumstances.
Hu Ming cracked open a beer and chugged it down. This alcohol was like water to him.
But nearby, a drunk man kept shouting, shaking dice, and slamming tables—ruining his mood.
Hu Ming glanced over while eating his skewers.
Unfortunately, his eyes locked with the man’s.
Hu Ming’s gaze stayed blank and calm.
The drunk, however, bellowed at him:
“What’re you staring at, four-eyes!”
His friend yanked him back, trying to calm him down.
Hu Ming’s eyes lowered slightly. He bowed his head and kept eating.
He looked refined—no troublemaker.
Seeing Hu Ming silent and avoiding eye contact, the man assumed he was scared.
He jabbed a finger at Hu Ming, mocking his friend:
“See? This four-eyed freak shuts up after two shouts. Damn, just thinking about my four-eyed boss acting all high and mighty pisses me off!”
His friend soothed him while turning to apologize to Hu Ming.
Hu Ming simply nodded.
The man’s temper flared. He dropped the dice, ranting about workplace grievances with curses flying.
Other customers got up and left—no one wanted a drunkard’s tantrum.
The stall owner snapped: “Quiet down! You’re scaring off my customers!”
That ignited the man’s fuse. He shot up, marched straight to Hu Ming, and tried to flip his folding table.
He’d already disliked Hu Ming—and now even his outlet was blocked. Drunk, he had no clue what he was doing.
But the table wouldn’t budge.
“You’re causing a drunken scene, disrupting business,” Hu Ming said calmly. “Can’t take a word of criticism?”
Hu Ming slowly stood up, locking eyes with him.
His friend rushed over, pulling him back while apologizing to Hu Ming and the owner.
“Pay up and get out!” the owner growled. “You’re giving me a headache.”
The man only grew angrier. Staring at Hu Ming’s back, alcohol clouded his mind completely.
He broke free, grabbed a metal tray, and swung it at Hu Ming’s head.
Gasps filled the air—no one could stop him in time.
But the next moment, something astonishing happened!
As if sensing it, Hu Ming ducked just as the tray was about to strike. He spun around and landed a sharp uppercut on the man’s chin!
The man shuddered, rolled his eyes, and collapsed backward.
Silence fell over the crowd.
Hu Ming coldly eyed the man’s friend. “If you can’t hold your liquor, don’t drink. Acting like a rabid dog—don’t you fear being laughed at?”
The men couldn’t retort. Their faces flushed crimson—whether from alcohol or shame.
They paid for Hu Ming’s meal and apologized to both the owner and him.
They glared at their unconscious friend with clear resentment. Having such a person in their group was no joy.
Hu Ming didn’t care about their drama. He got up and walked away.
That punch had sparked a faint, familiar feeling in him.
In the past, he’d have smashed a glass bottle over the man’s head and slit his throat with the shards.
He wandered aimlessly down the street.
Suddenly, a furtive figure caught his eye.
Hu Ming squinted.
The person wore a black coat and cap, wrapped tightly from head to toe—highly suspicious, gender unclear.
Glancing left and right, the figure ducked into a pitch-black alley.
Hu Ming looked up at the alley’s most prominent sign.
[Lover’s Hotel]
