Too Late for Everything

Three years ago, Zhou Xingzhi "died" while carrying out an undercover mission. He was posthumously awarded a First-Class Merit, and a gravestone was erected in the Martyrs' Cemetery. Lin Wan clutched an empty urn and cried until she collapsed.

Three years later, at a briefing for a new mission, she saw a photo. The target's codename was "Ghost." His work was clean, and he never left survivors. She recognized that face. She had traced it with her fingers countless nights. She had watched it sleeping beside her on the pillow.

He wasn't dead. He had deceived her for three years.

Lin Wan said nothing. She applied to join the arrest team and cornered him in an abandoned factory on a rainy night, plunging a knife into his chest.

"Nice to meet you," he said with a smile, holding out his hand. "I look forward to working with you."

"What a coincidence," she said, pulling her knife back out. "I specialize in killing ghosts."

The blade missed by half an inch. She hated herself for holding back.

But only later did she learn the truth: three years ago, he had vanished because someone threatened him with a photo of her. For three years, he had stayed hidden, watching her cry over his empty grave, watching her transfer to the most dangerous capture unit, watching her hone herself into a blade.