The spacious room remained silent for a while. Realizing what he was doing, Luo Hai’s cheeks suddenly flushed. He lifted his head from the plush toy’s fur.
He must have been overworked—how else could he be sitting here talking to a stuffed animal? If Eugene saw this, who knows how many years he’d tease him for it?
But Eugene wasn’t here. He wouldn’t see it.
The night before dawn was long and lonesome. Until victory arrived, everyone was silently enduring this solitude.
Luo Hai stood up from the sofa and walked toward the fridge, planning to grab a bottle of cold water to clear his head. But just as he reached out his hand, he heard a soft, melodious violin tune drifting in from outside the window.
A shiver ran through his body, and his first instinct was to rush to the window—but he forced himself to hold back, freezing in place.
That idiot, Eugene Oddis. They had agreed not to make contact unless absolutely necessary during the operation. So why was he—
But there was nothing for him to criticize, because the violin’s melody didn’t carry any hidden message. It was just a simple, pure nocturne, floating gently through the night air.
Luo Hai stood in his empty apartment, listening quietly. He could hear a few unnatural transitions, some misplaced notes, and a couple of hesitations—but the violinist stubbornly played on, just like that homely little nightingale they had once seen together.
Were there nightingales in the winter?
If there were, it would surely be a miracle.
Luo Hai slowly exhaled and sat down in front of the piano. He lifted the lid—already gathering dust—and joined in at the most unexpected section.
The violin hesitated for only a moment before seamlessly blending with the piano’s rhythm.
The crisp notes of the piano lifted the violin’s melody, leading the piece toward its climax.
It had been a long time since music had last played in the deathly silent city of Nantes. The duet drifting through the night caused many rooms to light up one by one, the sound of windows opening echoing intermittently.
There was no wind. The music passed unobstructed between the buildings, reaching an unknown number of listeners.
Luo Hai closed his eyes, indulging in this fleeting moment of purity. He knew that somewhere, hidden within some shadow, Eugene was doing the same.
The night would eventually return to silence, and hatred would ultimately drive people apart.
But before that inevitable cruelty arrived—perhaps, for just a little while longer—there was still time for everyone to enjoy the same melody.
……
Three days later, the entire city of Nantes was placed under lockdown.
Aside from Alphas who had passed gender verification, no one was allowed to leave the city. Even going out onto the streets required passing a security check—only those with legitimate destinations were permitted to continue. The situation for Omegas became even more dire. Without bribing the guards, they could be detained under any number of fabricated charges.
Overnight, the previously desolate northern districts of Nantes became heavily patrolled by military and police forces, deepening the anxiety of the city’s residents.
Speculation about the government’s next move flooded the internet. Some believed the prosecution office was using this opportunity to expand its power. Others feared that the Lightwing Society had already infiltrated every corner of Nantes and that, at any moment, they might launch a full-scale takeover of the city…
But all the speculations led to the same conclusion: a war was about to break out in Nantes.
Under this oppressive atmosphere, even once-lively festivals had become bleak and deserted. Most shops were closed, and most Betas preferred not to stir up trouble at such a critical moment. Only a group of Alphas, originally street hooligans and scoundrels, seemed to have suddenly gained some kind of privilege, swaggering through the empty streets in a grand celebration.
On a day like this, the cold wind swept through the withered treetops, lifting dust from the ground and slipping into Luo Hai’s collar. He frowned, pulled his coat tighter, handed some change to the stall owner, and exchanged it for a steaming cup of coffee.
The sound of the wind mingled with the distant cheers of the Alpha gangs, forming the background noise behind him. Luo Hai held the coffee and slowly sat down on a bench by the street. The dappled shadows of the trees covered his shoulders and concealed the figure sitting on the other side of the bench.
The man was dressed in a dark coat, wearing a cowboy hat that was large enough to almost cover his entire head—except for a playful lock of blond hair that peeked out from underneath.
“Is the coffee here any good?” The cowboy leaned his elbow against the back of the bench, speaking in a relaxed manner.
At the sound of that familiar voice, Luo Hai almost couldn’t suppress the urge to embrace and kiss him immediately.
He took a deep breath, keeping his expression steady and his voice as calm as possible. “It’s alright. Not as good as the one in District One, but it’s the best you’ll find around here.”
A soft chuckle came from beside him. “Really? I’ll have to try it sometime.”
Luo Hai lowered his head and took a sip from the cup. It was plain, with nothing added—just sharp bitterness and a slight acidity. But that was exactly what he needed to quell the flood of longing and suppress other, more inappropriate impulses.
“How’s everything on your side?” he asked quietly.
“Going smoothly. Everything is proceeding according to plan,” Eugene’s voice was light but just loud enough for Luo Hai to hear. “Everything that needs to be done is done. The investigations are complete.”
For a brief moment—maybe it was just his imagination—Luo Hai thought he heard a hint of sadness in Eugene’s tone, as if something in the investigation had disappointed him.
But it was only for an instant. Eugene quickly resumed his usual tone and glanced at Luo Hai from the corner of his eye. “What about you?”
“Better than I expected,” Luo Hai replied. “The people were already worn down by the Lightwing Society, so inciting their fear of Omegas was easy. As for Doyle… I’m not sure if he completely trusts me yet, but at least he’s sent people to the northern district. That means he believes this possibility.”
“Doyle is extremely suspicious by nature. Whether he believes it or not, he’ll take precautions,” Eugene said in a low voice. “We don’t know if he has any backup plans. Be careful while staying by his side.”
“Alright,” Luo Hai replied.
“Tomorrow, Xiao Lau will bring what you need to this coffee shop. Pick it up after work in the afternoon. The code phrase is ‘nightingale,'” Eugene instructed. “Keep an eye on Doyle’s movements, but don’t contact me directly. If you have urgent intelligence, leave it at the coffee shop—the owner will find a way to get it to me.”
“…Got it,” Luo Hai responded quietly.
Even though he knew this was an unavoidable step, his heart still sank heavily. Not being able to contact Eugene meant that their next meeting was uncertain. In such a tense lockdown, how would Eugene and the Lightwing Society evade the prosecutor’s web? Would they even have another chance to meet before the plan was completed…?
Luo Hai forcibly cut off his own thoughts, forcing his mind not to dwell on that possibility. There was no turning back now—they could only look forward.
But he couldn’t help but glance at the other side of the bench, capturing those bright amber eyes beneath the brim of the hat, trying to imprint Eugene’s face into his memory for as long as possible.
The moment their gazes met, it felt as if something long-suppressed was about to break free. Eugene parted his lips slightly, but then pressed them together again, suppressing his impulse. He stood up from the bench.
Luo Hai frowned and softly called out, “Eugene.”
“This isn’t a good place to talk. Let’s leave it at that,” Eugene’s voice was hoarse. “I’m leaving.”
Was it just his imagination?
For some reason, Eugene seemed to be surrounded by an air of sadness today.
“You don’t seem very happy,” Luo Hai said.
“The war is coming, and more and more of our people are being arrested or killed. It’d be strange if I were happy,” Eugene replied indifferently, then turned and strode away toward the end of the street. The cold wind lifted the hem of his coat, and his figure gradually blurred under the pale sky, melting into the horizon.
Luo Hai watched his back until it disappeared, unable to shake the feeling that Eugene hadn’t told him the whole truth.
…
With the arrival of a cold wave, Nantes faced the harshest winter in a century.
The people of Nantes, accustomed to a warm and pleasant climate, were caught completely off guard by the sudden drop in temperature. Some stuffed towels into window cracks, some piled on layer after layer of blankets, and everyone bundled themselves up in thick coats when they went outside. But even so, the streets echoed with the sound of sneezing and coughing.
Most of the Omegas in prison froze to death.
Every morning when Luo Hai arrived at work, he could see from a distance as bodies were dragged out from the prison gates and loaded onto trucks. One time, he happened to run into Fanny handling the corpses. The young Beta met his gaze for only a second before hurriedly looking away, shame and humiliation evident on her frost-reddened face.
That morning, Luo Hai was summoned to Doyle’s office. Before he could even speak, Doyle was already smiling as he walked over and draped a brand-new tie around his neck.
Doyle lifted his chin slightly. “Tie it on and let me see.”
Luo Hai remained silent and said nothing, simply following the instruction to tie the tie. Doyle stepped back a few paces with his hands behind his back, then stepped forward again to adjust the edges, smiling in satisfaction.
“It suits you well. I still have good taste,” Doyle said, smoothing the tie down along its length until his hand rested on Luo Hai’s waist, giving it a light squeeze. “A fine saddle for a fine horse. If I had a saddle this good back then, who knows how many more people would’ve lined up for a ride.”
Luo Hai’s expression didn’t change. After so many years, he had long since learned not to let Doyle’s teasing affect him.
“Consider this compensation for your recent grievances,” Doyle said with a grin, patting Luo Hai’s shoulder. “And a reward for all your hard work lately. How is it? Do you like it?”
“I like it very much. Thank you,” Luo Hai replied expressionlessly.
Doyle didn’t seem to care whether Luo Hai was being sincere. All he wanted was unconditional obedience from his adopted son. After receiving the expected answer, he nodded in satisfaction and waved a hand, signaling that Luo Hai could leave.
Luo Hai turned and walked straight out of Doyle’s office. Back in his own office, the first thing he did was rip the tie off and stuff it into the farthest corner of his bottom drawer.
