Extraterrestrial demons invaded; I laid the groundwork eight years in advance.

At eight o'clock in the evening, Zhou Zheng put the dishes and chopsticks into the kitchen, rinsed them clean by the sink, wiped his hands twice, and walked into the living room.

"I'll take Ping An out for a stroll," he said to Wang Lili.

Ping An immediately looked up, her eyes sparkling: "Let's...let's go outside...to play!"

Wang Lili was curled up on the sofa scrolling through her phone. Hearing this, she didn't even look up, just swiped her finger across the screen a couple of times and casually asked, "When are you coming back?"

I'll be back in a bit.

As Zhou Zheng spoke, he took a coat from the shoe cabinet and helped Ping An put on her shoes.

Ping An stood at the door waiting, his arms outstretched, like a little penguin waiting to be dressed.

Zhou Zheng squatted down, tightened Ping An's shoelaces, and straightened his coat collar.

"Alright, let's go."

"Bye-bye... Mom..." Ping An turned around and called out to Wang Lili in a soft, sweet voice.

Wang Lili did not respond, her fingers typing in the chat box.

The door closed.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway turned on and off repeatedly.

The father and son went downstairs, walked through the alley in the residential area, and turned onto the road leading to the night market.

The streetlights cast long shadows of the two of them. Ping An walked ahead, skipping and hopping, while Zhou Zheng followed behind, keeping a two-step distance, watching Ping An's round back with a calm gaze.

The night market is just two streets away, a ten-minute walk away.

The night market was bustling around 8 p.m., with the aroma of charcoal grilling from the barbecue stalls mingling with the broth from the spicy hot pot, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere in the air.

The night market streets were lined with stalls, plastic tables and chairs were packed tightly together, and people were constantly raising their glasses and laughing.

Zhou Zheng led Ping An around, stopping frequently. When they passed a stall selling candied hawthorns, Zhou Zheng bought one, unwrapped the glutinous rice paper, and handed it to Ping An.

Ping An took it and took a bite. The hawthorn was so sour that he squinted, but the sweetness of the sugar coating quickly masked his sourness, and he smiled happily.

When they reached the end of the street, Ping An's attention was drawn to the ring toss game.

The stall was filled with all sorts of gifts—plastic cars, rubber ducks, colorful lollipops, plush toys half the height of a person, and some decorative items.

The stall owner was a tall, thin middle-aged man with an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth and a handful of plastic rings in his hand, shouting to attract customers.

"Stop for a second! Take a look! Five dollars for ten rings, whichever one you ring, you keep it!"

Ping An stood there motionless, her eyes fixed on the little orange duck in the front row.

"You want that one?"

Ping An nodded vigorously: "Duck..."

Zhou Zheng swiped five yuan at the shopkeeper and took ten plastic rings.

  

Ping An clumsily picked up a ring, threw it, and the ring made a turn in mid-air before landing on the ground, bouncing twice, and rolling under the stall.

The children watching burst into laughter.

Zhou Zheng neither smiled nor urged him on.

"It's okay, take your time."

The second ring was thrown, but it still went wide.

The third one hit the base of the little duck and bounced away.

The fourth and the fifth.

On the seventh one, the plastic ring hit the edge of the duck's head, wobbled twice, and then got stuck.

The stall owner shouted, "Hey! You won!"

Ping An paused for a moment, then turned to look at Zhou Zheng, a smile slowly spreading across her face: "Daddy... Duck... Duck!"

"Peace is great!" Zhou Zheng said.

The stall owner handed over the little orange duck, which Ping An took and held in both arms as if she were holding something extraordinary.

Zhou Zheng looked at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"Is there anything else you want?"

Ping An stared at the items on the stall for a moment, then pointed to the colorful lollipops: "Lollipops!"

Zhou Zheng swiped another ten yuan for the shopkeeper and handed the plastic ring to Ping An.

"Daddy's going to the bathroom. You play here and don't run around."

"Okay... Ping An, be good..."

Zhou Zheng patted his head, stood up, and said to the boss, "Boss, I need to use the restroom. Could you watch the child for me?"

"Okay, okay, no problem."

Zhou Zheng nodded and turned to walk towards the public restroom in the night market.

The public restrooms in the night market didn't smell good. There was a row of urinals, five or six cubicles, messy shoe prints on the floor, and unidentified liquid everywhere.

When he went in, a person was standing by the sink rinsing their hands.

The two glanced at each other and passed by.

Zhou Zheng walked to the inside, where all the cubicle doors were open.

He pushed open the innermost door, went inside, and locked the door behind him.

The cubicle was quiet; the noise of the night market was suppressed into a layer of blurred background noise, with only the sound of water dripping from the urinals outside, tapping on the tiles one after another.

He stood there for a few seconds, then turned around and lifted the water tank lid.

A transparent waterproof bag is attached to the back of the lid and secured to the ceramic inner wall with tape.

He removed the waterproof bag, unseal it, and inside was a thin, black cell phone without any markings.

He turned on his phone, entered six numbers, paused his finger on the screen for a moment, and clicked confirm. The screen immediately switched to the call interface.

"beep--"

"beep--"

"beep--"

The call was connected on the fourth note.

"...It's me."

Zhou Zheng's voice was very low, his lips almost touching the microphone: "Zhao Desheng has been arrested, and his line is ruined."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then a man's voice rang out, his tone flat, as if he were stating something that had nothing to do with him.

"We already know."

Zhou Zheng's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"The Administration and Dawn have jointly set up a special task force, and they have already traced the shipping route," he said. "I handled all those import and export approvals when I was in customs. If that Zhao guy opens his mouth, the task force could trace me back to me at any time."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"Has anyone from the Administration Bureau contacted you?"

"No." Zhou Zheng's fingers gripped the edge of the phone, his knuckles turning white. "But I always feel something's not right, and it's only a matter of time before they trace it back to me."

Zhou Zheng took a deep breath, lowered his voice, and trembled slightly: "You must protect my safety, help me evacuate, and my son—you promised me you would use the best medical resources to help him recover."

"We remember," the man on the other end of the phone said calmly. "We'll arrange the route and identities immediately, but it will take time. Can you hold out for a few more days?"

Zhou Zheng's chest heaved rapidly a few times.

"A few days?" His voice rose slightly, then he forcefully suppressed it again. "Do you know where you are right now? Do you know what crime I've been charged with?"

"It's treason! I'll die!"

"Zhou Zheng," the man on the other end interrupted him, "calm down."

"The federal government is currently undergoing a power shift, and with the presidential election approaching, the entire administrative system is in a period of restructuring and transition, which has also affected our arrangements."

Zhou Zheng's lips moved slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, the evacuation... might not happen as quickly as you think."