Agent: Intercepting Yu Manli at the start!

Three days ago, Li Xiaonan caught a glimpse of Zhou Xiaodeng's advertisement in the Shanghai Daily. Her fingertips trembled, her eyes instantly welled up, and she almost couldn't hold back her tears.

He really came back.

Zhou Xiao raised an eyebrow and smiled: "Could it be... that you couldn't even eat after I left, and you've gotten so thin?"

Touched on her secret, Li Xiaonan immediately straightened her face, her tone as taut as a fully drawn bowstring: "Zhou Xiao, this is a mission rendezvous, not a teahouse chat—stop joking!"

He spoke toughly, but his heart was like a lake rippled by the wind, with one ripple after another.

She paused, then pushed the words that had been stuck on her tongue back out: "You must come back alive."

Infiltrating behind enemy lines is already a life-or-death struggle; to infiltrate enemy territory as an undercover agent? That's like walking on thin ice—one wrong step and you're doomed.

"Yes, I didn't go on vacation this past month." Zhou Xiao's voice was steady. "I did learn a lot of the skills that Gui Zi Liu had. The title of 'Military Intelligence Bureau Ace' is not just for show; he really has real skills."

Suddenly, the tone shifted: "Xiao Nan, do you think... Gui Zi Liu might be one of our men?"

Li Xiaonan didn't even lift her eyelids, and said decisively, "Absurd! The list of comrades who died at his hands could fill three pages. If he were one of our own? The Huangpu River would probably flow backward."

She didn't know that Sixth Brother Zheng Yaoxian had long been a lone "kite with a broken string" who had entered the game alone. All the files at the organization's headquarters had been burned, and the only people who knew were Lu Hanqing and one leader at headquarters. Even she, a veteran underground worker, had only ever heard the bloody scent associated with the name "Sixth Brother."

Back when she was working on underground party affairs in the mountain city, she personally witnessed the dense red crosses in his interrogation records; each cross represented a life.

Zhou Xiao didn't ask any further questions, but simply nodded slightly.

He had no evidence, only intuition—like two knives silently recognizing each other in the shadows.

He got up and left his seat halfway through the movie.

The screen was still flashing, but Li Xiaonan waited until the end credits finished rolling before pushing open the door and leaving.

This meeting felt like an invisible burden had been placed on her shoulders: the waters were muddier, the road narrower, and every step had to be timed perfectly with her heartbeat.

But right now, the most urgent thing is my blind date with Feng Manna tonight.

Time is up.

The next morning, Zhou Xiao checked out of the hotel.

Tonight is the day he first meets Feng Manna as "Zhou Hanguang". The collar must be ironed flat, the cuffs must be wrinkle-free, and even the creases under the fingernails must be clean—no trace of anything must be left.

According to the official account, he immediately ended his undercover work and rushed back to Shanghai after learning of Feng Zixiong's murder.

The meeting place was set at the Cinque de la Cerro.

Back when they were training in the mountain city, the Military Intelligence Bureau's Nanjing Station used the handwriting of Zhou Hanguang, a shadow, to write letters to Feng Manna one after another. The letters were signed with warmth and the words were meticulous, and finally, the appointment for tonight was finalized.

He had already thoroughly studied and memorized all the correspondence from the past thirty days, remembering even the ink density clearly.

Just as I stepped out of the hotel, a crisp notification sound rang in my ears: "Ding—Today's check-in not completed, confirm?"

Ha, this system has really learned how to urge people on?

"Check-in".

"Sign-in successful, reward points: 2000".

As expected, but not bad either—at crucial moments, these points can be exchanged for clues to save your life, or for life-saving skills.

Immediately afterwards, a new mission popped up: "Time-limited assassination: Target - Li Moqun. The faster you complete it, the greater the reward."

Li Moqun?

The mastermind behind "Sparrow" who is calculating even in his breathing?

In the TV series, he is Bi Zhongliang's boss and Xu Bicheng's uncle. His schemes are like a woven net, closing silently, with even the most subtle foreshadowing sending chills down your spine.

The game starts with an SSS-level desperate situation, and the first mission is directly targeting the toughest challenge.

Assassinate Li Moqun? Just thinking about it makes my throat tighten.

The system added a sentence: The shorter the time limit, the greater the reward—but this is not a death warrant, but a weight pressing on one's chest.

Fortunately, this system only provides assistance and doesn't hold anyone accountable. If you fail to complete the task, you'll only get a few points deducted; it won't cost you your life.

The most urgent matter is still keeping the appointment. As for Li Moqun... we haven't even caught a glimpse of him, so how can we possibly make a move?

7:30 p.m.

Zhou Xiao, dressed in a well-tailored dark gray suit, stood in the shadow of the sycamore trees diagonally opposite the Xianles Dance Hall.

This place is famous in Shanghai. People coming and going are either politicians or businessmen, or at the very least, their lackeys in fine clothes.

It's so lively, really lively.

Skirts fluttered on the dance floor, wine gleamed at the bar, and laughter mingled with jazz music, floating in the air, cloyingly sweet.

But this facade of peace is nothing more than gold paper pasted over bullet holes—it tears apart with a single tear.

They agreed to meet at eight o'clock, but he arrived half an hour early, just to familiarize himself with the place.

A white shirt, a gray suit, and a fresh rose tucked into his breast pocket—the petals slightly moist, the fragrance crisp and refreshing, their only secret code.

He didn't rush inside, but leaned against the lamppost, his gaze sweeping over the flow of people coming and going: there was no Feng Manna, and nothing seemed amiss.

The second hand ticks away, nibbling away at time, minute by minute.

He probably never imagined that the person waiting inside wasn't Feng Manna at all, but her best friend—Lan Yanzhi.

7:40.

A black Austin sedan slowly pulled up in front of the New Asia Hotel across the street.

The car door opened, and a man in a navy blue suit stepped out.

He was not tall, had a slender build, and wore a pair of gold-rimmed round glasses on his nose. His gait was unhurried, like a professor who had just stepped out of a university lecture hall.

The moment he stepped out of the car, seven or eight plainclothes officers surrounded him like shadows, their steps measured and their eyes sharp as hooks.

The formation was heavily fortified, and no one was allowed to approach.

Zhou Xiao recognized him at a glance—Li Moqun.

You search high and low without finding it, only to find yourself walking right into the line of fire.

Zhou Xiao glanced at his watch; there were still fifteen minutes left before his meeting with Feng Manna at the New Asia Hotel. Instead of rushing in, he stopped to examine the hotel standing across the street—neon lights flowed under the glazed tile eaves, the lintel was high and wide, and the intricate reliefs were not gaudy, subtly revealing the luxurious charm unique to the Cinque Terrell.

After all, the men and women who had just left the dance floor often walked arm in arm, wearing high heels and smiling, into the lobby of Xin Ya. Those unspoken things didn't need to be said; even the air was thick with lingering ambiguity. Most of Xin Ya's business came from the afterglow of Cinque Terrell.

As soon as he stepped through the revolving door, a quick glance revealed Li Moqun walking towards the elevator with three or four entourage members. His steps were steady, and his expression was tense, like a string about to snap.

"Hello sir, would you like to book a room?" The receptionist glanced up and saw a man in a sharp suit with handsome features. Her heart skipped a beat: another eye-catching guy. He's probably here to meet up with some old flame he's been secretly seeing.

"Yes, I'll book one." Zhou Xiao said calmly, "I want a quiet room—that group of people just came in, and I don't want to be on the same floor as them, afraid of disturbing the peace and quiet."

The reason is flawless.

"Oh, they live on the fourth floor." The young woman tapped the register lightly with her fingertip. "You see, the third and fifth floors are both empty. Which floor do you prefer?"

The entire building has no more than five floors.

"Then let's go to the fifth floor." Zhou Xiao paused slightly. "What other rooms are available on the fifth floor?"

"Let me check!" She quickly flipped to the latest page, her fingertips tracing over the densely packed names, and looked up, saying, "There are only four rooms left on the fifth floor—501, 503, 505, and 506."

Zhou Xiao frowned slightly: "These numbers... don't sound quite right. Could you please check the fourth floor as well?"

The girl paused, then flipped back to the previous page and read it carefully: "The fourth floor is even more sought after; only 401 and 409 are left."

Just as she was looking down at the page, Zhou Xiao, with his sharp eyes, spotted three lines of numbers in the registration column on the fourth floor: Zhang Ming, 405; Zhang Ming, 406; Zhang Ming, 407. Three consecutive numbers, neatly pinned together.

What ordinary guest would book three adjacent rooms at once? It's either to keep out unwanted attention or to keep out unwanted eavesdroppers. Someone of Li Moqun's status would never book rooms under his own name—Zhang Ming is most likely his errand boy or personal adjutant.

Of the three rooms, the middle one is the safest. Room 406 must be where Li Moqun himself stays; the two on either side are naturally where bodyguards are on standby.

In the blink of an eye, Zhou Xiao had already etched the answer into his mind.

He looked up and smiled: "Forget it, let's go with the fifth floor—506, for good luck: 506, it'll be a quick getaway!"

Room 506 faces Room 406 directly, in a straight line, offering a comfortable view from any angle. Besides, Room 06 on each floor is always a top-floor suite with a terrace and bathtub, and it's also the most expensive.

"Pfft...hehe..." The girl couldn't help but laugh out loud, thinking to herself: Could this gentleman be dating a canary who's already taken?

"Okay, please show your identification to register."

Zhou Xiao handed over his ID card, with his name neatly filled in: Zhou Xiao.

With Li Moqun's appearance here, the plan had already been quietly laid in his mind.

After completing the formalities, he paid, picked up the key, and turned to leave the hotel. The clock had just struck 8:52.

He looked up at the entrance of the Cinque Terrell – a red figure was gracefully approaching: her skirt was like fire, her figure was slender, her features were like fine brushstrokes, her high heels clicked on the bluestone slabs, she carried a small crocodile skin bag, and a rose was pinned to her wrist just right.

She was a sheltered young lady, her beauty effortless, so much so that even the wind seemed to shun her.

In her palm, she clutched a red rosebud—the very secret code for their meeting.

Zhou Xiao's pupils contracted: Lan Yanzhi? Not Feng Manna?

He should have thought of that sooner.

Interesting. It's getting more and more interesting.

Lan Yanzhi paced back and forth at the door, glanced at her watch, then turned around, her skirt billowing as she slipped into the dance hall.

Zheng Yaoxian's intelligence was correct: Lan Yanzhi and Feng Manna were both agents, but each held a flag, concealing themselves from and probing each other.

Zhou Xiao didn't wait long. He straightened his tie and followed him inside.

The hall was dimly lit, men and women danced together on the dance floor, jazz music played lazily and tenderly, and champagne bubbles popped softly on the glass.

Lan Yanzhi glanced around as she moved toward a corner; Zhou Xiao, meanwhile, subtly slipped in, his foot sliding and his shoulder lightly brushing against hers—

"Ouch!" she exclaimed softly, her handbag slipping from her hand, scattering her small mirror, lipstick, and handkerchief all over the floor.

"Sorry, sorry!" Zhou Xiao immediately squatted down, picked up a carved rouge box, and rubbed the lid with his fingertips. "It's not my fault—it's just that the girl was too dazzling, making it hard to open one's eyes."