Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

Before the white mist from the ice shards could settle, the second bullet had already arrived.

Gu Xidong rolled on the ice, the excruciating pain in his left knee tearing at his nerves—

The old injury from three years ago and the "accident" from six months ago have now converged into a sharp lightning bolt that pierces through the entire left leg.

His ice skates slipped on the ice, and as he regained his balance, he glanced at the audience out of the corner of his eye.

Eight.

Eight people dressed in dark casual clothes stood up from different directions, their movements eerily synchronized.

The way they drew their guns gave away their identities—

They were not amateur assassins; their grip on the gun was steady, their eyes were calm, and there were tactical gaps between them.

Eight gun barrels were pointed at two targets: him on the ice rink and the glass window of the control room on the second floor.

Ling Wuwen.

Gu Xidong's heart contracted.

Inside the control room's glass window, Ling Wuwen stood in front of the control console, her profile pale under the blue light of the screen, her hand resting on her headset.

"Lie down—" he hissed into the throat microphone.

The sound was drowned out by the third gunshot.

The bullet struck the bulletproof glass of the control room, causing a spiderweb-like crack to appear. The glass did not shatter, but a second shot followed immediately, hitting the same spot.

The screams from the audience truly erupted at this moment.

The security guard huddled behind the railing, receiving chaotic instructions over the walkie-talkie.

The audience in the front row fell to the ground, and the people in the back surged towards the exit like a tidal wave, pushing, trampling, and screaming.

Chaos engulfed the entire stadium in ten seconds.

Gu Xidong didn't see the chaos.

His gaze was fixed on the first assassin to step onto the ice.

The man was wearing a gray jacket, and his ice skates made him look a little clumsy on the ice, but his hand holding the gun was as steady as a rock.

Twenty meters was enough for him to empty the entire magazine before Gu Xidong could rush over.

Gu Xidong slowly straightened up.

He spread his arms out, palms facing outward, to indicate that he was unarmed.

The left shoulder of the black performance costume was grazed by a bullet, and silver feathers fell off, slowly drifting down under the spotlight.

The assassin stopped and pointed his gun at Gu Xidong's forehead.

"Mr. Ye sends his greetings," the assassin said in Russian with a Caucasian accent.

"Where is he?" Gu Xidong asked.

You will see him.

The assassin's index finger on the trigger began to tighten, "In another world."

Gu Xidong smiled.

The smile was faint, with only a slight curve at the corners of the mouth.

"You made a mistake," he said.

The assassin frowned.

"The ice." Gu Xidong lightly traced a line on the ice with his foot. "You're not wearing the right shoes."

The next second, he moved.

Instead of rushing forward, it went downward—the whole person leaned back and slammed their back onto the ice.

His ice skates scraped across the ice with a piercing whistle, and he used the momentum to glide backward at an extremely high speed.

The assassin pulled the trigger.

The bullet missed its target and struck the spot where Gu Xidong had just been standing.

Gu Xidong skated to the edge of the collapsed hole in the center of the ice rink, braced himself with one hand, and jumped up.

His movements were fluid and effortless, as if the excruciating pain in his left knee did not exist.

He picked up a broken piece of icicle from the edge of the hole—

It is about thirty centimeters long, with one end sharp and gleaming coldly under the light.

The assassin adjusted the muzzle of his gun.

Gu Xidong held the icicle up to his eyes and looked at the other person through the translucent ice.

The bubbles and cracks inside the ice shards distorted the killer's image; his face was deformed and split by the refraction of the ice.

"You know what," Gu Xidong said, "ice is zero degrees Celsius. But the temperature of a knife blade is even lower."

With a flick of his wrist, the icicle flew out of his hand.

It's not a straight line, it's a rotation—

The icicle spun rapidly in the air, tracing an arc, bypassing the gun barrel in front of the assassin, and striking his wrist from the side.

The ice crystals shattered.

But the impact was strong enough to knock the assassin's pistol out of his hand. The gun landed on the ice and slid three meters.

The assassin groaned, clutching his right wrist with his left hand—

Fragments of ice pierced the skin, and blood seeped out.

Gu Xidong had already rushed in front of him.

Five meters, three steps, ice skates push off the ice with explosive power.

A sharp, bone-cracking pain shot through his left knee the moment he landed. Ignoring the pain, he leaned forward, clenched his right fist, and struck the assassin's throat.

The assassin dodged to the side, drew a tactical knife from his waist with his left hand, and stabbed at Gu Xidong's abdomen.

Gu Xidong used his right forearm to block, the blade tearing through his performance costume and leaving a deep, bone-revealing wound on his arm.

Blood gushed out and dripped onto the ice.

He didn't back down. He grabbed the other man's wrist holding the knife with his left hand and pressed his thumb against the acupoint on the wrist.

The assassin, in pain, dropped the knife.

Gu Xidong raised his knee, aiming it at the assassin's abdomen. The assassin ducked to avoid it, and Gu Xidong used the momentum to smash his forehead into the assassin's face.

The sound of the nasal bone breaking was clearly audible.

The assassin fell backward, his head hitting the ice, and he lost consciousness.

The whole process took less than ten seconds.

Panting, Gu Xidong picked up the gun the assassin had dropped and checked the magazine—nine rounds left.

He tore off the hem of his performance costume, hastily bandaged the wound on his arm, and then looked up at the control room.

Outside the control room on the second floor, three assassins were using a breaching tool to break down the door lock.

Ling Wuwen's figure was no longer in front of the glass window.

2

Inside the control room, Ling Wuwen leaned against the wall, breathing rapidly.

The walls vibrated with each impact from outside the door.

The indicator light on the electronic door lock changed from green to red, and the system prompt echoed mechanically: "Security lock triggered, remaining attempts: 2."

She scanned the control room.

Three rows of control consoles, twelve screens, with the monitoring image of the underground pipeline flashing in the upper right corner—

That was the image below the hole where Gu Xidong had just disappeared. A cold water pool, a maintenance passage, and a complex network of pipes.

There is another way.

There is an inspection cover in the center of the control room floor, which is usually covered by carpet.

She lifted the carpet, revealing a metal cover with a fingerprint lock on the edge.

This is an emergency passage that Raven installed three days ago, leading directly to the underground pipe layer.

She placed her palm on the recognition panel.

Blue light scanning.

"Identity confirmed: Ling Wuwen. Access level: Urgent evacuation."

The cover slides open, revealing a downward-facing shaft with a climbing ladder inside.

A cold wind surged up from below, carrying the damp smell of rust.

The banging outside the door stopped.

Then came gunfire—a barrage of shots aimed at the door lock. The shrill sound of twisting metal pierced the air, and the lock was completely destroyed.

Without hesitation, Ling Wuwen turned and entered the shaft.

She grabbed the cold metal ladder and climbed down.

The gunshot wound in my left shoulder throbbed with excruciating pain when I strained, and blood streamed down my arm, dripping into the darkness below.

She gritted her teeth, descended three meters, then looked up, hooked her foot on the edge of the cover, and pulled hard.

The cover plate is closed.

The locking mechanism automatically engages.

Almost simultaneously, the door to the control room was kicked open.

Three assassins burst in, their guns sweeping across the empty room. The leader walked to the hatch, crouched down, and inspected it.

"Fingerprint lock, private access," he said into his headset. "Target has entered the underground pipes. Requesting backup to seal all exits."

Ling Wuwen continued to descend into the shaft.

Ten meters, fifteen meters, twenty meters.

The bottom is a horizontal pipe, about one meter in diameter, which can only be crawled through.

Every few meters along the pipe wall was an emergency light, emitting a faint green glow. She climbed inside.

After climbing about thirty meters, the pipe widened and merged into a larger maintenance room.

The place is filled with discarded equipment boxes, and there are water pipes and cables on the walls. The air is humid and the temperature is low.

She leaned against a box and tore open the clothes on her left shoulder to check the wound.

The bullet grazed the skin but didn't lodging inside, though it tore through muscle and blood vessels. The bleeding was still flowing; it had to be stopped.

She pulled a tiny first-aid kit from her inner pocket—the one Raven had given her. She poured styptic powder onto the wound. Then, using her teeth, she tore open the bandage and laboriously bandaged it with one hand.

By the time she finished, she was covered in cold sweat.

A tightening sensation came from my abdomen.

This time it was stronger and lasted longer than before.

She pressed her hand against her belly and felt the baby moving—not the usual fetal movements, but a struggle, a kind of instinctive fear.

"Hang in there," she whispered. "Mom's here."

Footsteps could be heard from the other end of the pipe.

There was more than one person; at least three. They were approaching.

Ling Wuwen gripped the only weapon he had brought from the control room—a high-voltage electric shock pen.

Its range is only three meters, and its battery power is only enough for one shot.

not enough.

She glanced around the repair room, her gaze settling on a pile of tools in the corner: rusty wrenches, broken steel bars, and a can of industrial lubricant.

She grabbed the can of lubricant, shook it, and then sprayed it on the floor at the entrance to the maintenance room.

The footsteps stopped outside the entrance.

"Vitality detected." A voice, slightly distorted through a gas mask, announced.

"In the maintenance room. Prepare for intrusion."

Ling Wuwen retreated to the deepest part of the maintenance room, leaning against the wall, with the electric shock pen hidden behind him.

The first person rushed in.

He stepped on the lubricant, slipped, and fell forward.

The moment Ling Wuwen fell to the ground, he rushed over, pressed the stun gun against the back of the man's neck, and pressed the switch.

The electric arc crackled, the assassin's body convulsed, and he lost consciousness.

The second man rushed in immediately, saw his companion fall to the ground, and raised his gun.

Ling Wuwen grabbed the steel shovel from the ground and threw it at his opponent.

The steel spike struck the assassin's arm, the muzzle veered, and the bullet hit the wall.

Ling Wuwen lunged forward, his right fist aimed at the opponent's Adam's apple.

The assassin turned his head to avoid it, grabbed her wrist with his left hand, and twisted it forcefully.

A sharp pain shot through her wrist; she felt as if her bones were about to break.

She used her knee to strike the other person's abdomen.

The assassin bent over, but didn't let go. He raised his right hand and aimed the gun at her forehead.

"Goodbye," he said.

Gunshots.

But it wasn't Ling Wuwen who fell.

The assassin's eyes widened, a bloody hole appearing on his forehead. He fell backward, his hands loosening.

Ling Wuwen turned his head.

At the entrance to the maintenance room, Gu Xidong stood there, holding a gun in his hand, the muzzle still emitting blue smoke.

He rushed over and helped her up.

"How's the injury?"

"Shoulder. Child..." Before she could finish speaking, another sharp pain shot through her abdomen, this time causing her to bend over and catch her breath.

Gu Xidong looked down and saw the dark stains seeping through her pants—her water had broken.

"I'm about to give birth." His voice was tense.

"Now?"

"Now."

He helped her sit down, leaning her against the wall. Then he turned to face the entrance—the gunshots would attract more people.

"I need time," Ling Wuwen said, grabbing his wrist. "At least twenty minutes."

"You only have ten minutes." Gu Xidong searched the assassin's body for two magazines, loaded them, and said, "The next batch will be here in three minutes."

"Ten minutes then."

Ling Wuwen closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and adjusted his posture.

She had learned about emergency childbirth during training, but never imagined she would need to use it in this place or at this moment.

Gu Xidong stood guard at the entrance, his gun pointed at the passage.

Footsteps sounded again.

This time it's more numerous and denser.

3

Five people.

Gu Xidong determined the number of people by the sound of footsteps.

He retreated to the side of the maintenance room entrance, pressed his body against the wall, and pointed his gun at the corner of the passageway.

The first figure appeared.

Gu Xidong didn't fire—that was bait; there were others behind him.

He pulled the trigger as the second figure flashed by, firing two bursts.

The first shot hit his chest, and the second hit his head.

The body fell down.

The remaining four opened fire simultaneously. Gu Xidong crouched down, pulled a flashbang from the corpse's waist, released the pin, and threw it into the passageway.

A burst of intense light erupted.

Four short, agonizing screams.

He rushed out and fired continuously during the three seconds the enemy was temporarily blinded.

Three shots, three bodies fell. When the last assassin regained his sight, a gun was already pressed against his forehead.

"Where is Ye Shen?" Gu Xidong asked.

The assassin laughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth: "You'll find out."

Then he shattered his molars—they contained a poison sac containing highly toxic cyanide.

Within three seconds, his pupils dilated and his breathing stopped.

Gu Xidong released his grip, and the corpse slid down.

He returned to the maintenance room.

Ling Wuwen lay on the ground, breathing rapidly, her face as pale as paper. Her pants were pulled down to her knees, her legs were bent, and her hands were placed on her abdomen.

"The head is out," she said hoarsely. "Help me."

Gu Xidong knelt beside her, his hands trembling—

This was not a familiar territory for him; it was not an ice surface, not a battle; it was the process of life struggling to be born from blood and pain.

He took a deep breath to calm his mind.

"What should I do?"

"Support her head... Gently pull... No, wait for the next contraction..."

Ling Wuwen's voice was intermittent, and each contraction made her whole body tense up, her nails digging into the ground.

Blood and water mixed together, forming a pool beneath her.

Gu Xidong did as instructed.

His hand cradled the baby's head—so small, wet, and covered in vernix caseosa. In the dim green light, the baby's head slowly turned, searching for its way out.

The next contraction is coming.

Ling Wuwen gritted his teeth and exerted force.

The baby slipped out.

Gu Xidong caught him—it was a boy, very small, with purplish-red skin, and he didn't cry.

He immediately cleaned the mucus from the baby's mouth and nose and gently patted its back.

A faint cry rang out.

The sound was very soft, but it was clearly audible in the quiet repair room.

Gu Xidong cut the umbilical cord with a knife, took off his performance costume, and wrapped it around the baby.

The baby wriggled in his arms, eyes still closed, little hands grasping at the air.

Ling Wuwen weakly reached out his hand.

Gu Xidong placed the child in her arms.

She held the baby, tears streaming down her face, mixed with sweat and blood.

"He's alive," she whispered. "He's alive."

Gu Xidong checked her bleeding.

Even after the placenta is delivered, bleeding continues, and in considerable amounts.

He tore off the clean part of the assassin's clothes and pressed it beneath her.

"I need a blood transfusion," he said. "I have to get out of here."

Ling Wuwen shook his head: "I can't walk anymore. You take the child and go."

"no."

"Listen to me." She grabbed his wrist with an unusually strong grip.

"Ye Shen has run away, but he won't give up. This child... his genes, Ye Shen wants. You must take him away, hide him, and never let anyone know who he is."

"And what about you?"

"I'll hold them off." Ling Wuwen looked towards the entrance.

"I still have one flashbang grenade left, enough to fire a few more shots. I'll buy you some time."

Gu Xidong stared into her eyes.

Three seconds later, he nodded.

It wasn't because he agreed, but because he knew there was no better option.

Ling Wuwen had lost too much blood and couldn't escape the underground labyrinth. With her in tow, all three of them would perish.

He picked up the baby and secured it to his chest with a cloth strip.

He then salvaged all usable equipment from the killer's body: a pistol, two magazines, a smoke grenade, and a flashbang.

He handed Ling Wuwen a gun.

"Ten minutes," he said. "The Ravens will be here in ten minutes. Hang in there."

Ling Wuwen took the gun and put his finger on the trigger.

"Hurry up and go."

Gu Xidong glanced at her one last time, then turned and crawled into the pipes at the other end of the maintenance room.

The baby made soft humming sounds in his arms.

He lowered his head and touched the child's forehead with his lips.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered, "Dad's here."

New footsteps echoed from deep within the pipe.

This time it wasn't killers, but the rhythmic, heavy thud of tactical boots—at least ten people, maybe more.

Ling Wuwen leaned against the wall, his gun pointed at the entrance.

She heard Gu Xidong's footsteps fade away in the pipes, and the baby's faint cries gradually disappeared.

Then she laughed.

The smile was faint and calm.

She raised her hand and pressed the last button on the headset—

That was the emergency signal transmitter Raven had given her. Once pressed, all members of "Ice Shards" would receive her coordinates and a pre-set message:

"Protect the children. Leave me alone."

At the entrance, the first figure appeared.

Ling Wuwen pulled the trigger.