Chapter 26: A Chance Encounter—or Fate?

Li Chuzhe’s body still hadn’t fully recovered, and he wasn’t cleared for missions yet. Watching Tang Yan walk down the stairs in a fresh set of workout clothes, he said, “Going out again? Get back soon.”

Tang Yan was surprised the boss didn’t stop him—had the guy finally grown a brain? “Yeah,” she muttered, stepping out, still puzzled.

This time, her assignment came from an anonymous client. The job: deliver an item to Mo Yao of the Mo family. She’d only agreed when she saw Mo Yao’s name—otherwise, it would’ve been too vague to even consider.

The drop-off point was the same coffee shop she used to come to with Song Xieling. In the corner sat a man in dark sunglasses, wrapped up tight like he was hiding from the world. Based on the mission details, this had to be the client.

Tang Yan wore her disguise too—hackers always altered their voices before going live. “Where’s the package?”

The man didn’t speak. Instead, he slid over a small redwood box, with a piece of paper tucked beneath it. A single finger tapped the paper—*open it.*

Inside, a note read: *Hand this to Mo Yao personally by 8 p.m. tonight. Do not give it to anyone else.*

“Got it.” Tang Yan pocketed the box and the note, then vanished into the street.

What worried her was Mo Yao—sharp-eyed, suspicious, and dangerously curious. Would she believe some stranger showing up out of nowhere?

It was still early. Tang Yan wandered the city blocks, circling back on herself like a dog chasing its tail. Eventually, she decided: better to go as herself. Six o’clock found her at the Mo residence.

Mo Yao hadn’t seen Tang Yan in ages. When she heard her name, she practically sprinted downstairs. “Tang Yan! It’s been forever—where’ve you been? I was afraid to look for you!”

Her lower lip trembled slightly, all innocence and hurt.

Tang Yan smiled softly. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Come in, come in! We’re about to eat dinner. You’re not leaving early tonight, got it?” Mo Yao looped her arm through Tang Yan’s, pulling her inside like she might vanish if she let go.

This was Tang Yan’s first time in the Mo household. As a hacker, her instinct was immediate reconnaissance—map the space, know every exit, every blind spot. Within ten minutes, she knew the layout like her own palm.

“Your brother isn’t home, is he?” Tang Yan asked casually. No need for distractions—especially not from that playboy brother of hers.

Mo Yao waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, he’s out. Probably off with some other woman again.”

Tang Yan just smirked. Quietly. Sardonically.

After dinner, Tang Yan slipped away with a flimsy excuse: “Let’s go see your garden. So many flowers—I’d love to learn which ones you grow. Maybe I can plant some at home. My place is so boring.”

“Sure! Come on, Tang Sister!” Mo Yao chirped, her tone slipping further into childish affection.

Under Tang Yan’s gentle prodding, Mo Yao wandered deeper into the backyard—until she froze.

There, half-buried in soil, sat a redwood box. Not just any box. One she recognized instantly.

Her face went pale—not confused, but stunned. Like she’d seen it before. Like it belonged to her.

“How… how did this get here?” Mo Yao snatched it up, brushing off the dirt with trembling fingers. Then she laughed—a little too quickly, a little too forced. “Oh! This is one of my lost trinkets. I thought I’d never find it again.”

Tang Yan watched her closely. No need to expose it. If Mo Yao could accept it so easily, that was better than anything. She smiled. “Good thing you found it. Time’s getting late—I should head back.”

“Wait, let me walk you out!” Mo Yao turned to dash inside.

“No thanks,” Tang Yan called after her. “My driver’s coming to pick me up.”

Mo Yao stopped dead. Turned around. Smiled awkwardly. “You’re lucky, Tang Sister. Go on, don’t keep him waiting.”

Tang Yan knew Mo Yao liked Li Chuzhe. But she had no intention of getting involved in whatever tangled drama they were caught in. The “driver” story? Pure fiction. Li Chuzhe had no idea where she went once she left the house. He wouldn’t send someone after her—she was too sharp, too alert. Too good at vanishing.

Back home past ten, Tang Yan found Li Chuzhe lounging on the living room sofa, book in hand. The front door clicked shut behind her.

“Miss Tang finally finished her busy day? Tired?”

He closed the book, stood up, and walked toward her. Tall, broad-shouldered, standing right in front of her like a wall.

Tang Yan shrugged. “Not bad. I’m heading upstairs.”

She disappeared into her room, and the silence settled around her. Something felt… different. Li Chuzhe wasn’t acting like his usual self. No more tantrums. No more chaos.

*Well, maybe that’s better,* she thought. *Less drama.*

Lately, she’d been logging onto the net more often—not because work demanded it, but because she kept checking if *Nightshade* was online. But Nightshade showed up randomly—rarely, and unpredictably.

Meanwhile, Mo Yao bolted back to her room, opened the familiar box, and pulled out a black card. Beneath it, a white sheet of paper covered in dense handwriting. She stared at the words, clutched the card tightly.

Not long after the Song family collapsed, Mo Yao had run into Song Xieling in a dingy bar. He’d grown a beard, looked worn down, like he’d given up on life.

“Song Xieling? You okay?” she asked, leaning in close.

He probably didn’t want anyone recognizing him—so he’d dressed like a ghost.

Song Xieling didn’t even look up. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

Mo Yao grinned, sliding onto the stool beside him. “Look at me. It’s me—Mo Yao.”

He turned, eyes wide. “Mo Yao? What are you doing here?”

“I was passing by. Saw you. Haven’t seen you in weeks—why hide?”

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Media’s been hounding me. Had to disappear.”

She ordered a drink and stayed put. “So what now? Let me help.”

“Why?” he asked, voice flat.

“Why not?” She took a sip, forcing calm into her voice. “Remember when I was shopping and you helped me carry bags?”