Chapter 305: A Spy’s Love

I am a spy who has no need for emotions: Codename: Dark Dragon.

It was at the end of a mission when I unexpectedly met her.

A blind girl.

“You’re bringing such a big dog onto the subway? What if it bites my child?”

On the subway, I saw a middle-aged woman pulling along a child of about four or five years old, berating a girl with a guide dog.

I was stunned, standing there, staring at the girl. She was truly beautiful.

In her twenties, not particularly stunning.

Strictly speaking, she wasn’t a classic beauty. Too quiet, too gentle. She had a delicate, almost fragile demeanor that could evoke sympathy.

Accused, she wore an apologetic expression. Those lovely eyes of hers lacked light.

“I’m sorry. He’s a guide dog and very well-behaved,” she explained softly.

“A dog is still a dog! It doesn’t belong on the subway.” the woman sneered angrily.

Her child extended a foot, kicking the guide dog.

Whimper!

The guide dog recoiled in pain, shrinking against the girl’s side and whimpering softly. The child made faces at the dog, entirely oblivious to the implications of his behavior.

The old saying is true—what kind of parent raises what kind of child.

An exception?

No.

Whispers began around us.

“How can she bring a dog onto the subway?”

“This girl is so inconsiderate.”

“So what if she’s blind? Does being blind give her special privileges to bring a dog onto the subway?”

“…” The girl bowed her head, trying to explain softly. “I… I…”

I watched her quietly. I didn’t know why, but an unfamiliar feeling surfaced in my heart.

At that moment, I seemed to lose control of my body.

I walked over to the helpless girl, smiled, and said, “Don’t be afraid.”

Standing in front of her, I calmly looked around the subway car, my gaze settling on the middle-aged woman with her vile expression. 

“The law allows guide dogs on subways. What you’re doing now is illegal. If you don’t understand the law, at least stop being disgusting. Can you manage that?”

“You…”

The woman, furious, grabbed her grandson and left.

I couldn’t help but think how much she resembled her grandson. Both were just… grandchildren.

That day, I stayed by her side, quietly listening as she spoke.

“I’m blind. My world is one of darkness.”

“I can hear my parents sighing late at night, but I can’t see the growing whiteness of their hair.”

“Things that are effortless for others take me endless practice.”

“Every time I leave the house, I have to summon all my courage and my guide dog, Wangwang, gives me strength too.”

“I really want to integrate into this world.”

“But this world… doesn’t seem to welcome me.”

“I can smell the clean scent on you.”

“Your voice is very nice too.”

We parted ways.

That night, as I rested alone, I found myself smiling unconsciously, her image lingering in my mind.

The next day, driven by something inexplicable, I went back to the subway station and saw her again.

I remembered her words from the day before: You have a clean scent.

What a mocking phrase. Do I deserve to be called clean?

No, she didn’t understand. My world is darker than hers, shrouded in endless shadows.

I watched her quietly, seeing her leave in disappointment.

I knew she was hoping to meet me again.

I… wasn’t worthy.

For three days, she came to the subway station. Each time, she left disappointed.

My heart ached.

At that moment, she was like a flame.

I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“What a coincidence,” I said.

Standing in front of her, I saw the surprise and joy lighting up her delicate face at the sound of my voice.

My heart melted. I wanted to be with her.

From that day forward, we were together.

I taught her how to listen to audiobooks, took her to fun places, introduced her to delicious foods, brought her to the lakeshore to listen to the wind and the cicadas.

But then…

She began to distance herself. She found excuses to avoid me. She even pretended to be cold.

Until one day, she said, “Let’s not see each other anymore.”

Why?

I could feel her love for me.

Why leave me?

That day, I followed her quietly.

I saw her sorrowful face.

I saw her tear-streaked eyes.

I saw her helpless figure.

“Little Yu,” I couldn’t help calling her name.

“Ah…”

Her body trembled. She didn’t turn around but instead tried to walk away quickly.

She was blind, though. She had never run before.

The moment she stumbled, I caught her.

“Tell me, why?” I asked gently.

“Don’t ask, don’t ask,” she cried, clinging to me desperately. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to let go. I’m blind. I’ll only burden you for the rest of your life. I don’t want that. I don’t want to drag you down. I don’t deserve you!”

So that’s it.

I looked at her quietly. “Are you stupid?”

“Huh?” She stopped crying, staring at me blankly.

“Do you know why I like you?”

Holding her gently, I said, “Because your voice is beautiful. You’re gentler than anyone else. You’re stronger, more determined, more outstanding than anyone. You can’t see, but some people are blind in their hearts. Besides, you’re beautiful, smart, and caring. You’re perfect.”

“I… I’m not as good as you say!” she said shyly, her face turning red.

“You don’t understand,” I said calmly. “If anyone here is unworthy, it’s me.”

She might never know.

She thought I saved her that day on the subway. But in truth, she saved me.

On the day we met, I had been planning to end my life.

Meeting her brought warmth to my life.

***

“Did you write this?”

Xiao Yu snapped back to reality, his expression strange as he stared at the manuscript on the computer screen before turning to the suspect, Fang Shuoxin.

A person’s character might change, and their writing style could evolve.

But for an author’s deeply ingrained voice to completely transform overnight?

It was impossible.

Even with a pseudonym, experienced readers could still recognize their unique touch. Yet Fang Shuoxin’s writing had drastically changed in just a few days.

There was only one explanation.

“I…” Fang Shuo Xin stammered, visibly uneasy.

Everything had been wrong—completely wrong. Xiao Yu smiled coldly. The investigation had been misguided from the very beginning. Fang Shuoxin’s work wasn’t just a novel. It was an autobiography. 

A diary.

A confession.

Moth’s Ear. Activated.

Python’s Sense. Activated.

Bat’s Echo. Activated.

Xiao Yu’s piercing gaze locked onto Fang Shuoxin as he spoke in a chilling voice, “Why did you make Fang Shuoxin write about you?”