Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

Gu Xidong was changing his dressing when the drone crashed into the window.

After the loud crash came the sound of shattering glass cascading down his back. He instinctively fell to the ground, and shards of glass rained down on his back like hailstones.

Immediately afterwards, a second and a third small commercial drone arrived in quick succession—

They were all modified suicide bombers, with improvised explosive devices strapped to their bellies. The bursts of fire shattered the silence of four in the morning.

"Evacuate!" Old Gun's roar pierced through the roar of the explosion.

They rushed into the alley through the back door of the safe house, thick smoke billowing behind them, and firelight illuminating the inky sky.

Gu Xidong's old injury to his left knee tore open again while running, and blood soaked through his trousers, but he dared not stop for a moment.

Five minutes later, the pickup truck, disguised as a delivery van, arrived on time, with "Hedgehog," a young member of the "Ice Shards" organization, in the driver's seat.

"Get in the car quickly! We'll be at a safe distance in two minutes!"

As the car sped through the streets, Gu Xidong glimpsed through the rear window that fire trucks and police cars were rushing to the explosion site, and the wreckage of the drone was burning, sending plumes of black smoke rising straight up.

While examining the glass scratches on his back, Ling Wuwen pressed, "Who did this?"

"I don't know," the hedgehog said, his voice tense.

"Thirty seconds before the attack, a military-grade Trojan was implanted into the surveillance system, and the camera feeds froze for thirty seconds—enough time for the drones to carry out the surprise attack."

The mouse was already on the back seat, the laptop open, and the mouse's fingers flew across the keyboard as the mouse's expression turned serious.

"The Trojan intrusion path... originated from our own encrypted channel."

The car fell into a deathly silence. Old Gun gritted his teeth and spat out two words: "The mole."

"Or perhaps our encryption system has been cracked." Ling Wuwen looked out the window at the passing street scene, his tone icy.

They were taken to an abandoned textile factory warehouse on the outskirts of the city, the third safe haven for the "Ice Chips" organization, but the air was thick with tension, more intense than the smoke of gunpowder.

The twenty-odd members were scattered in different places; some were bandaging their wounds, while others were checking their weapons. A lingering sense of suspicion hung in the air.

Liu Xuemei came forward, blood seeping through the gauze on her forehead:

"It's good that you're all alright, but Xiao Li and Xiao Chen, who were on guard duty on the perimeter, didn't manage to escape."

Gu Xidong's heart sank—Xiao Li was Zheng Hao's college classmate, and Xiao Chen was Liu Xuemei's nephew.

2

In the center of the warehouse, in a makeshift meeting room pieced together from shipping containers, nine core members sat around.

The veteran in his fifties, nicknamed "Saber," spoke first, his tone filled with unwavering certainty: "This is the third safe house exposed in three days. There must be a leak channel inside."

"It could also be an external technological breakthrough." Mouse tried to analyze calmly, "If it's at the level of the Ninth Division of the National Security Bureau—"

"Yang Zhenguo has no reason to attack us," Ling Wuwen interrupted him. "He needs our cooperation now."

"Perhaps we don't need it anymore." In the corner, the bespectacled technical lead, "Hibari," adjusted his glasses.

"I just received news that the Ninth Division of the National Security Bureau has obtained all the data on the South China Sea base and is currently conducting a global manhunt. We... may already be useless."

These words were like ice water poured into a hot oil pan. Liu Xuemei leaned forward excitedly: "We are the victim's family members, and we have provided crucial evidence!"

"Those who provide evidence are precisely the ones who deserve to be silenced."

Sabre added coldly, "The club's core leadership is collapsing, and everyone in the know is someone they want to 'clean up'."

Suppressed murmurs arose as these ordinary people—teachers, workers, and retired cadres—came together because their loved ones' lives had been destroyed, only to discover that they might just be pawns to be used and discarded.

The over-seventy-year-old "professor" slowly spoke: "We can no longer passively hide. We must take the initiative, find the club's remaining funds and network of contacts, and make them public."

"How are we supposed to find one? We can't even keep the safe house safe!"

Dissenting voices immediately arose, and the debate quickly escalated. Some advocated for secrecy, some demanded exposure, while others silently observed those around them.

Just as the argument reached its climax, a knocking sound came from the side door of the warehouse – three long knocks followed by two short knocks – the agreed-upon safety signal.

After the door opened, a man in his forties walked in, wearing a dark jacket and carrying a camera bag. His eyes were calm and composed, unlike those of an ordinary reporter.

"Ye Shen, senior reporter for Sports Truth Weekly." He introduced himself, his voice low but clear, "Following the club line... for seven years."

Everyone instantly raised their weapons, while Ye Shen slowly raised his hand:

"I am an informal member of the Ice Shards organization, developed by Wang Zhenhua three years ago." He took out a badge from his inner pocket, which was exactly the same as the one left by Wang Zhenhua.

After inspecting the document, Sabre nodded in confirmation: "The credentials are genuine, but why are you only showing up now?"

"Because I've been acting as an inside man." Ye Shen lowered his hand and pulled up his phone's flight records and bank statements.

"Zhou Wentao's wife is flying to Zurich tomorrow. There have been seven large transfers from his personal account within the past three months, totaling over 30 million US dollars, to a Swiss private bank. More importantly, twelve accounts related to the sports system have been opened at the bank within the past six months, with a total deposit of over 2 billion US dollars. The emergency contact person for all of them is the same person—Ling Jianguo."

Ling Wuwen's body jolted violently.

3

"He's still alive." Ye Shen pulled up a screenshot from a surveillance camera.

"He underwent cosmetic surgery and changed his name in Switzerland, holds a Liechtenstein passport, is the club's overseas fund manager, and is also the executor of the retreat plan after the failure of the 'White Whale Agreement'."

"Why are you telling us this?" Ling Wuwen's eyes were sharp.

"Before Wang Zhenhua sacrificed himself, he gave the following instructions: If Gu Xidong successfully activated the data and survived, he would hand it over to you. He said... this is the 'second battlefield'."

Gu Xidong looked through the bank records and passport copies on his phone. Although Ling Jianguo's face had changed in the photo of him in the Zurich café, his walking posture and the way he raised his hand to smoke were exactly the same as the father in Ling Wuwen's memory.

"We need to go to Switzerland," he said firmly.

"That's too risky!" Sabre objected. "We can't even protect ourselves, let alone leave the country?"

"This is the only chance to eliminate the threat completely," the professor mused.

"If Ling Jianguo disappears with the funds, the club can be rebuilt overseas at any time."

As the argument resumed, a sudden shriek from the hedgehog came from the other end of the warehouse:

"The fourth safe point... was raided by the police, and all the remaining members were arrested!"

"Only the core members know the location." Sabre's eyes turned dangerous. "The mole... is among the nine of us."

Suspicion spread like poison gas in an instant; everyone is scrutinizing others and being scrutinized by others.

"We need to separate, otherwise we'll just end up distrusting each other to the point of collapse," Ye Shen suddenly said.

"Divided operation: one group goes to Switzerland to investigate the financial chain; one group stays in China to collect evidence; and one group goes to a completely safe place to make backups."

"Where is there any place that is absolutely safe?" Liu Xuemei smiled bitterly.

"Deep in the snow-capped mountains along the Sino-Russian border, there's an abandoned athletes' training base," the previously silent logistics manager, "The Pharmacist," finally spoke.

"It was built with Soviet aid, but it was abandoned in the late 1980s. There is no internet or signal, only a seasonal mountain road. Now, heavy snow has blocked the mountain, and it is isolated from the world for three months. It has stockpiled supplies and basic equipment."

After voting, the final decision was made: Gu Xidong, Ling Wuwen, Lao Qiang, and Shushu would go to Switzerland; Jun Dao, Liu Xuemei, the professor, and others would stay in China to collect evidence through Ye Shen's channels.

The pharmacist led three members to the snow mountain base to establish a shelter; Ye Shen acted as the liaison to coordinate internal and external affairs.

4

As dawn broke, the convoy set off in three directions. While Gu Xidong was organizing the medicines, Ye Shen handed him an envelope:

"This is what Wang Zhenhua left for you, instructing you to give it to him before the group assignments."

The envelope contained only a note with illegible handwriting:

Trust is like ice; it cracks under pressure. But when the temperature is low enough, ice can become as hard as steel. Be wary of those who make you feel warm—true ice is always cold.

"He said you'll understand," Ye Shen smiled.

On the way to the airport, he installed a hidden tracker on the mouse: "It's not that I don't trust it, it's just for safety." Two hours later, he suddenly froze:

"The Snow Mountain Group's tracking signal disappeared; their last location was where National Highway 318 turns into an abandoned mining area road—there's no border access there!"

Gu Xidong recalled Wang Zhenhua's note, and the pharmacist's overly enthusiastic suggestion about the snow mountain suddenly seemed suspicious.

"Turn around," he said in a deep voice. "Go to the mining area road."

Old Gun jerked the steering wheel, the tires screeching as they rubbed together. An hour later, they reached the entrance to the mining road, where tire tracks stretched into the deep mountains through the snow.

Half an hour later, a vehicle overturned and smoking under the roadbed came into view. There were signs of a struggle around it, and several patches of snow were stained red, but there were no bodies.

"The fuel tank was punctured by a bullet, and the car caught fire before it overturned, but there were no charred bodies inside—they got out of the car or were taken away," Mouse said after examining the vehicle.

Gu Xidong found a bloodstained hairpin next to the footprints—it belonged to the pharmacist. "Chase after him."

They followed the footprints into the abandoned mine. The dark, damp tunnel was filled with the smell of rust and chemicals, and the flashlight beams swayed against the rock walls.

Five hundred meters later, a fork in the road appeared, and the footprints dispersed. Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen took the left side alley. The tunnel became narrower and narrower, and they could only move forward by bending over.

From ahead came the pharmacist's voice, trembling with tears: "Why? We trusted you..."

Another voice, eerily calm, said: "Trust is the cheapest commodity in the world."

Gu Xidong recognized Ye Shen's voice—he should have been coordinating things in China, but instead he was here.

The two men crept closer and peered through the crack in the door of the abandoned miners' break room:

The pharmacist and three other members were tied to chairs and were injured. Ye Shen was holding a gun, and two people in mountaineering clothes were standing next to him.

When one of them turned around, Ling Wuwen's breathing suddenly stopped—it was Ling Jianguo.

"The medication has already been injected; it will take effect in three hours, mimicking the symptoms of high-altitude pulmonary edema," Ling Jianguo told Ye Shen.

"The snow mountain base is all set up. Once Gu Xidong and the others arrive, we'll launch an 'avalanche'."

"You are also a victim's family member, your daughter..." The pharmacist sobbed uncontrollably.

"She is my most successful work." Ling Jianguo looked towards the doorway, as if he could see right through it.

"Cultivating her sense of justice from a young age, making her a reporter, having her 'accidentally' save Gu Xidong, and making her the person he trusts most—all of this was for today."

Ling Wuwen, standing outside the door, covered her mouth, tears silently streaming down her face. Gu Xidong held her tightly, feeling her body trembling violently.

"Gu Xidong is more tenacious than we imagined, and he might be suspicious of the Snow Mountain Base," Ye Shen said.

"So he'll come here." Ling Jianguo took out his phone and dialed a number.

"He believed he would definitely save his companion in danger—this was his weakness, a laughable act of heroism."

After the call connected, Ling Jianguo's voice came through the receiver:

"Gu Xidong, if you're listening, you have one hour to save your friend. I'll be waiting for you in the deepest shaft of the mine."

After hanging up the phone, the two turned and left, their footsteps fading into the distance.

Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen rushed in and freed him from his restraints. The pharmacist said weakly:

"The shaft is a trap... there are explosives buried below... we've been injected with something, our heartbeats are slowing down... hurry up..." She lifted her clothes, revealing a clear injection wound on her abdomen.

Ling Wuwen checked her pulse and found that it was indeed gradually weakening.

"Tell my daughter... that her mother wasn't a traitor... she just wanted to avenge her too much..." The pharmacist's eyes slowly lost focus, and the other three members had also fallen unconscious.

Gu Xidong gritted his teeth and pulled Ling Wuwen up: "Let's go."

"Go find my dad." Ling Wuwen's eyes were vacant.

"I want to ask him why myself."

"That might be what he wants."

"I know." Ling Wuwen wiped away his tears, his voice hoarse but firm, "But some questions, I must ask even if it means death."

They rushed out of the room and ran wildly into the depths of the mine. Gu Xidong knew it was a trap, yet he willingly stepped into it step by step.

Wang Zhenhua's note echoed in his mind: Real ice is always cold.

Some truths can only be seen in extreme cold.

The entrance to the shaft opened in the darkness ahead, like a gaping maw waiting for its prey.

Gu Xidong gripped Ling Wuwen's hand tightly and walked in without hesitation.