The evening of the city had a bruised, slow beat. Rain clung to pavement, bouncing back neon lights like splintered jewels, and wind bore the pale smell of wet asphalt and fumes. Laughter and sound within the mall mingled with the smell of fried food and perfume. It ought to have been warm, familiar, but to him, it was background noise...an annoyance that frayed at the borders of his tolerance.
He walked quietly, purposeful. Others stepped aside without realizing it; their instincts identified the hunter in him, even though they couldn't identify it. A mother pulled a complaining child by, offering insults in hushed tones. He didn't react. He didn't have to. Their fear was sufficient.
In front of him, a show of perfume bottles arrested his attention. A young girl hung around too close, messing with the labels. His hand contracted, jaw clenching.
"Can't you see?" he growled, low, icy voice. The girl stood stock still, her mouth opening in an almost silent apology before she edged away.
A man looked at him from across the aisle, smiling awkwardly, trying to make a joke: "Rough day, huh?"
His mouth twitched in the corner. "Stay back."
The man blinked, took a step back, and continued on his way. Perfect. That was perfect for the time being.
He walked by the fountain of the lower level, his gaze narrowing as he looked around. People walked like sloppy chess pieces. All the kids' screams, all the piercing laughter abraded his nerves. He despised chaos. He despised lack of attention. He despised crowds. And yet, something...and someone, drew his eye.
A boy. Alone, by a fountain, looking around as if awaiting something... or someone. Masked, subdued, the way someone fearful of being discovered might walk. And there was more: the eyes. Gray with gold flecks, like melted metal seen beneath ice. Living. Deadly, in the most impossible manner.
He stepped closer, gliding through the crowd like a shadow. His presence, sharp and angular, seemed to suck the warmth from the air. He could sense everything... the tremble in the boy's fingers, the slight shift of weight from one foot to the other, the heartbeat beneath polite stillness.
"Li An! Wait here! I'll be right back," a voice called, and the taller companion disappeared toward the restroom.
Now alone.
He allowed the world to close in, focusing solely on the boy. Intrigue wound through him, a slow fire. Risky curiosity. Not merely the presence of the boy...something in the way he stood, the mask shielding his face, the quiver behind calm… it attracted him.
The boy adjusted his mask and glanced around nervously. His phone trembled slightly in his hands. Something primal stirred inside the stranger, an instinct sharpened by years of caution and anger: protect? Punish? Or just watch?
A minor collision broke the moment. A passerby brushed against him, nearly tripping. Bags rustled, plastic rolled across the floor. The boy flinched.
"I… I'm sorry," the boy murmured, voice soft, careful.
"Watch where you're going," he snapped. Low. Controlled. Dangerous. Not cruel... yet. The boy froze, wide-eyed. He held himself still, knowing instinctively not to provoke.
The stranger studied him. Every movement mattered. A slight tilt of the head, fingers twitching over the phone, the way he shifted weight from one leg to the other. Subtle, human, alive. The mask hid his face, but the eyes… the eyes told everything.
He stepped back, letting the boy collect himself, but kept him in focus. The world around them blurred, the children spinning on the carousel, the chatter of shoppers, the music fading like an echo. Only the boy remained sharp, intense, alive.
A security guard approached, polite but cautious. "Sir… uh, you're blocking traffic."
I see," he said, voice flat but with an edge of hardness that sent the man hastily back. He turned the full weight of his attention back to the boy.
The boy shifted, his eyes flicking to the escalator where his friend had disappeared. His movements were cautious, controlled, courteous... but it was not sufficient to avoid the notice he now drew. Every moment betrayed him. Every tremor of fear, every pause, every guarded breath.
A pair of teens walked by, laughing, seeking attention. "Hey, you lost or something?" one shouted, smirking.
The stranger's eyes flashed toward them, cold in his voice: "Move along."
The laughter stuttered. The teens quickened their pace, fidgety. Perfect. The world was delicate, and he had learned how to push its boundaries.
And then the boy approached the fountain, readjusting the mask. A flash of something unguarded in his stance... tentativeness, vulnerability. It tugged at him in a manner he couldn't fathom, irritation being complicated by a fascination he refused to allow himself to accept.
The stranger allowed the second to drag out. Every beat, every step, every blink mattered. Lights in the mall mirrored back in puddles and glass, neon bleeding across tile. Shadows lingered in corners, and he stepped through them, quiet, measured.
And then, impact.
A gentle touch of palms as he pushed through a rack of displays. Not on purpose, but enough.
The boy's head jerked up. Eyes wide under the mask.
"Watch where you're going," the stranger repeated, low, sharp. Anger, unmistakable, but controlled. The boy froze, swallowing a small breath.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, voice trembling, careful.
The stranger didn't speak. He observed. Step by step, tilt of head, the subtle pulse of wrist, the careful restraint of the boy's hands. Intrigue prickled in his chest. Fascination. And annoyance. And anger. All at once.
The boy's friend returned, tall, wide, self-assured. Relief darted across the boy's stance. The stranger slipped back into darkness once more, unseen, observing, weighing.
Minutes ticked by. Lights shone on puddles, reflections skipping. Sound was a dull buzz. Every step of the boy calculated, wary. And yet, in spite of his command, his gaze flickered once towards the stranger.
He could sense it. The boy was aware of him. Not completely, but to some degree.
At last, alone once more, torn from his friend. That was the moment. Forward a step, a cautious move, deliberate, measured.
The boy looked up, surprised. Wide eyes, golden spots glinting with light. Anger blazed first in the stranger, sharp, wound- but fascination right behind. The boy's eyes, peaceful yet charged, shuddered ever so slightly, concealing something perilous under the surface.
The stranger's voice at last came out, low, measured: "Be careful next time."
The boy's chest puffed with a small gasp. Breath was caught. Eyes glanced over toward the escalator. His grip on his phone tightened.
The mall lights blurred off the tiles, neon smear on the glass railings, shoppers' voices far away, muffled, meaningless. There was only this boy within the radius of his focus.
And then… zhao liren shouted in shock and happiness...
"Shen Lian!!"
The boy blinked in shock, torn between terror and fascination. li an was confused how did liren know this strange man? why is he excited? many question raised in his mind... curling his pink lips into a small curious pout under the mask.
END OF THE CHAPTER...