After Retirement, My Parents' Identity as Mercenaries Can No Longer Be Hidden

My parents' retirement life once made me, an IT migrant worker, feel a little bored. My father, Che Laosi, fished by the Jiaozi River every day, his back as straight as a pine tree. My mother, Sister Chen Ba, is keen on studying cooking, and her cutting skills are frighteningly accurate. Until the debt collector came to the door, my mother gently supported the strong man near his elbow, and his entire right arm hung down. Only then did I realize that their ordinary retirement routine might just be a carefully maintained disguise. When the Japanese politician's provocative remarks came, my dad accidentally broke his favorite fishing rod. The dusty basement of Furong Barber Shop was opened - there were no shaving tools, only cold weapons and equipment on the walls, and a top-secret file codenamed "Furong". "Dad, Mom, who are you?!" "Shh," my mother stir-fried the twice-cooked pork without looking back, "keep your voice down, don't disturb your dad's monitoring of the snipers on the other side of the river." Overnight, my world turned upside down. My white-collar career came to an abrupt end. My new identity was a data clerk at the town cultural station, but in reality I was a secret intelligence agent codenamed "Blue Bird". My mother began to teach me how to turn cooking skills into killing skills, and my father trained me to discern crises from the trembling of fish floats. And the "debts" that once crushed my family also revealed the hideous truth - every debt is a hidden piece of protection and sacrifice. Now, transnational forces have sneaked into the town, and the oath made half a century ago has awakened along with the danger. My retired parents can't hide anymore. And I, the daughter who inherited the code name "Blue Bird", must work with them to safeguard this peace that is related to the destiny of the country. This is my new daily routine.