The sound of pounding feet slapping against the puddles left on the sidewalk by the continuously falling rain echoed against the dirt smeared walls of the tunnel, the sound following alongside the dark figure running along the narrow pedestrian path on the side of the tunnel. One of a few occasional cars passing through the tunnel in the early morning hours drove past the running figure, briefly illuminating the young man’s face. It was only for a few seconds, but if the driver of the car had looked before the young man ducked away from the car’s headlights, he would have seen a young man clothed in a simple sweatshirt and jeans, the hood of the dark grey sweatshirt pulled up tightly around his face. His eyes were wide in horror at what he had just experienced, bow shaped lips parted partially from fear and half from the exertion caused by his wild sprint. Although he had long fled the physical scene of what had just happened, the young man could still hear an older man’s voice ringing in his ear, what was likely the last time he would ever hear that man’s voice.

“Run!” The young man could still feel the older man’s hand shoving him in the back with the utmost urgency, and his own voice crying out in desperation.

“Uncle! I can’t leave you behind to face them alone!” He had protested. The older man had smiled despite their predicament, and patted the younger man’s hand as the men of the mafia began to close in on them. Another few seconds, and the only escape route would be cut off. 

“Silly boy.” The older man had said, “I am a seasoned officer of the Drug Crimes Unit. Do you think these little boys could take me down? Now go, before your identity is revealed and all of our hard work goes to waste!” The young man had fled, as the older man, his superior and handler, the only connection he had to the police force had faced the attack alone. And, as he fled from the sound of gunshots ringing out behind him, the young man knew that that connection would be no more. 

He didn’t know how long he had run before he finally dashed into the open Beijing street. All around him, stores were still closed, the only living creatures in sight a few stray cats and the occasional car passing by. His heart pounding in his chest, the young scanned the area around him warily before finally slowing down and slumping to the sidewalk to catch his breath in front of a closed convenience store. As his pounding heart slowly began to settle, the young man felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he thought back on what had just happened. It was just supposed to be a regular meeting with his handler; it wasn’t his first, he had done it multiple times before. What had he done wrong? How had the mafia caught wind of the existence of a police mole? How had they known he would be meeting with his handler then?

What did I do wrong?

The young man wiped futilely at the tears prickling in his eyes, the clear streams of liquid quickly pooling over his eyes and streaming down his gently sculpted cheeks. 

Stop it! You are a police officer, one of the best! That is why you were sent to do this! Stop crying!

Despite his efforts though, the young man finally let himself crumple into a tiny ball on the street, and let his muffled sobs echo in the safe recesses of his own arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

The loud sound of a beeping alarm roused the young man from his dreams, paired with the sound of another man calling his name.

“Zhan-ge! Zhan-ge!” The young man’s eyes slowly opened, and he blinked through hazy vision to look at the man shaking him. 

“Ah-Cheng?” The man in question’s boyish face was furrowed in concern, a frown setting a pout onto his lips.

“Ge, are you okay?” Jiang Cheng asked, “You’re crying.” The young man touched his cheeks carefully, and with a start, realized that Jiacheng was right. Swiping quickly at the moisture on his face, he shook his head and quickly rose from his bed.

“I’m alright, just a nightmare.” He replied smoothly. Jiang Cheng looked at him in confusion before bursting out into laughter.

“You? The second in command of Yingrong Group, would get nightmares?” He asked, dodging a playful punch from his friend as he laughed. 

“Shut up.” The other man grumbled, “If you keep laughing, I’m going to tell Ah-Qing that you were calling out her name in your sleep the other day!” Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened at the sound of his girlfriend’s name.

“You wouldn’t dare!” He demanded. The other man’s eyes twinkled playfully.

“Oh, I would.” He replied, before dashing away as Jiang Cheng lunged at him. The two friends chased each other around the bedroom before the older man dodged into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“I’m going to get you when you come out!” Jiang Cheng declared from outside the door.

“You can just try!” The other man replied, “We’ll see what your father has to say when he hears that you hurt me because you couldn’t take a joke, mister future head of the entire company!” Jiang Cheng grumbled curses under his breath, and the older man smiled as his friend’s footsteps faded away from the bathroom door. Sighing, he turned, walked over to the sink, and the water as cold as it would go. Dipping his hands into the water, the man splashed the cold water onto his face, the temperature making the water feel like a slap against his fair skin. It hurt, but it worked to smooth away the remnants of the nightmare he had been having. Still, he could still hear the faint sounds of his former handler’s voice in his head. Not long after that incident, he had heard through various lines of secret information that the handler had indeed, died at the hands of the mafia members that day. That had been half a year ago. In those six months, he had received next to no communication from the police unit that had sent him into Yingrong. Perhaps they were arranging for a new contact; perhaps they had forgotten about him; perhaps they blamed him for the senior officer’s death and had decided to abandon him. The young man’s gaze was firm though as he looked up at the mirror in front of him. Whatever headquarter’s plan was, he would stay here and finish the task they had sent him to do. And so...the young man gazed at his reflection in the sparkling surface of the bathroom mirror, and repeated the same mantra he had repeated to himself daily since six months ago.

My name is Xiao Zhan. I am an orphan who fought on the streets to make a living until I fortuitously caught the attention of Jiang Fengmian, the head of Yingrong Group, and was given a chance to enter his group to make a living. Now, I am the second in command of the entire group. There is nowhere else I belong, and my utmost loyalty belongs to Yingrong. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau

On the tenth floor of the large governmental police department, a slender figure dressed in a simple white shirt and jeans sat at his desk in a modest office. Sunlight streamed in from the ceiling to floor glass windows, illuminating the youth’s handsome features, which were at the moment slightly furrowed as a pair of inquisitive dark brown eyes scanned over the files in front of him. Long slender fingers twirled a pen mindlessly as the young man worked, a habit picked up long ago from an old friend that the young man hadn’t bothered to drop. After a few moments, a tiny smirk turned up the corner of the man’s lips, although his gaze remained serious. 

How interesting.

The young man’s fingers hovered over two words, neatly typed in perfect black font on the sheet in front of him.

Yingrong Group.

How many illegal things had this group not done? From killing dissidents to selling drugs and marketing weapons overseas, the seemingly innocent organization was far more complex below the surface. In fact, it was odd that it had taken this long for the mafia’s file to end up on the young man’s desk. The phone on the man’s desk beeped twice, and he reached over to press the red flashing intercom.

“Yibo, Chief Qi is looking for you.” The person on the other end spoke before the young man even responded to the intercom; it was the way he worked, and everyone knew it. He never bothered speaking initially when he was paged. Get to the point, and move on, was his style.

“Understood.” The man replied before ending the call with a quick tap of the intercom button. Taking a deep breath, he rose from his seat and stepped briefly over to the windows in his office, dark brown eyes gazing up at the blue sky. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes briefly. The caller hadn’t specified what the chief wanted from him, but he could at least deduce that it had something to do with the file that had appeared on his desk. Likely, it was some task that seemed boring, but the chief would insist that only someone with his capability could do. Boring or not, he knew it was something he would have to do. He had entered the police force in order to make use of its investigation intelligence and the chances it would provide him to explore the world around him. If he wanted to continue utilizing his resources, then he would have to continue rising in position and accomplishments. And besides, no one could really outmatch him in a fight; thousands of years of cultivation had put him far above the capabilities of normal humans. After all this time though, the young man had yet to reach the one true goal he had been after all this time.

Lan Wangji opened his eyes, another sigh escaping his lips.

Wei Ying...where are you?