The two spoke quietly for a while, but with no clear direction, they simply stopped thinking and lay quietly to rest, relaxing themselves and letting their minds unwind. An hour later, Ghost Hand ca over nonchalantly and lay down on the sun lounger behind Luo Zheng, whispering, "I just went back to the room to check, and soone has gone through our luggage."
The luggage was just a few changes of clothes, nothing to worry about, but the act startled Luo Zheng. After a mont's thought, he whispered back, "It seems that more than one group of people are watching us. Did you find anything unusual?"
"No clues were left behind," Ghost Hand whispered in response.
With Ghost Hand's inspection concluding no evidence was left, Luo Zheng stopped dwelling on the matter and turned to Lan Xue, who spoke softly, "These aren't the main issues. The real question is what kind of sche Song Yan is plotting. The Reincarnation Killers have worked with the Song family before; will they collaborate again this ti? And who are those suspicious characters, are they related to Song Yan? It seems we have more than a few problems to face."
"Indeed," Luo Zheng's calm visage flashed with concern, but he quickly regained his composure. After whispering among themselves for a while and getting nowhere, Luo Zheng said quietly, "Ghost Hand, inform the other two, watch their disguises, and it would be best to change their appearance every two hours. That way, our adversaries won't be able to confirm their identities and locations. We two will continue to expose ourselves in public to draw our opponent's attention."
"Alright, be careful," Ghost Hand replied softly, standing and walking away.
After lying down for a while and feeling a bit tired, Luo Zheng and Lan Xue got up and went to find a spot in the western restaurant with their backs against a wall and facing the door. Sitting with their backs to the wall would prevent stealthy attacks, and facing the door they could see who was coming in—basic common sense, which both understood. They ordered two juices.
At that mont, a bar's resident male singer ca over with a smile and said, "Sir, would you like to dedicate a song to your lady?" using an international language.
"Thank you," Luo Zheng said noncommittally, sizing up the man out of habit. Long hair, wearing sunglasses, carrying a guitar, in faded denim clothes— he had an artist's vibe. Luo Zheng spoke politely, "Then, please play sothing you're good at."
"Take Ho, Country Roads, originally sung by John Denver. 'Country Roads, Take Ho,' dedicated to both of you. I wish you happiness," the singer said graciously as he retreated to the performance area, gently strumming his guitar and starting to sing and play.
Luo Zheng, not having an artistic bone in his body, was unfamiliar with this song that depicted the beautiful landscapes of the West and the carefree cowboys. Seeing that Lan Xue did not object, he courteously listened. In the music, he felt an undercurrent of soone crying out, longing for sothing—a return, a relinquishing of the past, a desire for a peaceful life, a carefree existence. Caught off guard by this revelation, he wondered, what did singing this to lovers an? But seeing Lan Xue's enraptured expression and no sign of stopping, he continued to listen.
Gradually, Luo Zheng also felt the yearning, the desire to return, to give up the past and return to a peaceful life, to the days without worries. He couldn't help but think of his own experiences over the past year or so, which aside from fighting was just more fighting. Although he had no regrets, deep down, didn't he also long for peace?
Soon, Luo Zheng also beca intoxicated and was unable to extricate himself. Suddenly startled, a warrior's instinct brought Luo Zheng back to his senses. Seeing Lan Xue still imrsed in ecstasy, he quietly half-closed his eyes, pretending to be entranced as he observed the other person. In his mind, Luo Zheng couldn't help recalling a case once ntioned by a spy combat instructor.
An assassin had accepted a mission to eliminate a target who was a formidable assassin, superior in both experience and skill, beyond comparison. Having learned that their target frequented a psychologist, the assassin forged a psychologist's credentials and got a job at the clinic the target visited. After gaining the target's trust via therapy sessions, the assassin hypnotized the target with a song and eventually killed them. Luo Zheng couldn't rember the na of the song, but he felt as if he were in a similar situation. He silently went on guard, casually picking up a few toothpicks from the table.
The toothpicks resembled needles, and though Luo Zheng hadn't perfected his Life-taking Needle technique yet, close-quarters killing was still sothing he was willing to try. As the song ended, the resident singer slowly approached with a faint smile on his face. Previously seeming quite modest, the singer now appeared to Luo Zheng like a well-concealed venomous snake. If indeed the singer was an assassin, Luo Zheng found himself admiring their skill, as even the steadfast Lan Xue had been hypnotized by the performance.
Luo Zheng didn't know why Lan Xue had been hypnotized and didn't bother to ask. He remained on guard, with a look of rapture on his face and his eyes slightly closed, while locking his gaze onto the resident singer.
Once the singer ca closer, his modest gaze turned into a smug, cold smile. Suddenly, he pulled out a short willow-leaf saber from the bottom of his guitar. Thin as a cicada's wing and shorter than a normal person's little finger, and no wider than a thumb, he took a swift step forward and slashed at Luo Zheng's neck with the blade, sending a streak of cold light through the air.
Luo Zheng, who had been anticipating a move from the singer, was about to counterattack when he noticed Lan Xue's eyes snap open, brimming with intense coldness. The glass Lan Xue was holding shattered in her grasp, exploding into shards. Lan Xue quickly stabbed the singer with the jagged base of the glass, moving as fast as lightning. The sharp protrusions of the broken glass's bottom were deadly if they hit a vital point. Lan Xue then grabbed Luo Zheng and pulled him aside.
At that mont, Luo Zheng realized that Lan Xue had not been entranced by the hypnosis at all; she, like him, only pretended to be beguiled to deceive the singer while waiting for the mont to strike. Unexpectedly, she moved faster than he did. As Lan Xue forcefully yanked him to the side, a pained scream rang out.
"Ah—!" The singer, clutching his face and retreating in agony, had his palm covered in fresh blood, with the base of the glass deeply embedded in his eye socket, bleeding profusely. Perhaps realizing that his cover was blown, the singer began to flee in panic, careening into a waiter and collapsing onto a nearby sofa.
With his vision impeded by the injury, the singer was in excruciating pain. As one of the waiters approached to inquire, the singer flailed his arms wildly, his slender blade slicing the waiter's arm. The waiter scread and quickly backed away, while the singer seized the opportunity and stumbled outside.
At the door, Ghost Hand was sitting by the bar, drinking a beverage. Suddenly, he stuck out his foot and tripped the singer. Pretending to be concerned, he got up to help, deftly grabbing the singer's wrist and reaching for his neck. The singer's tight grip on the blade caused it to slice open his own throat.
Ghost Hand deserved his na for his cunning and extraordinary dexterity. After taking care of the resident singer, Ghost Hand stepped back and announced to the gathering crowd, "This man is in bad shape, call a doctor quickly." Then, casting a discreet glance at Luo Zheng, Luo Zheng understood and smiled knowingly.
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