Chapter 252: Chess

Song Jianguo’s spear was sharp. She’d salvaged it from a garbage heap, and since joining Zhang Wenda, she’d rarely had the chance to use it. But today, she finally found her opportunity.

The sharp spearhead plunged straight down, stabbing toward Tang Xingxiong’s eye.

The spearhead sliced through her eyelashes with ease. Just as it was about to pierce her dilated pupil, it froze in that final instant.

"Hmm?" Her face a mask of bewilderment, Song Jianguo pushed again. She then discovered to her astonishment that even when she let go, the spear remained bizarrely suspended there, utterly motionless.

She didn’t understand, but Zhang Wenda did. There was only one person nearby with this kind of power: Hu Maomao.

When he turned to look, he saw her—her tinfoil helmet now removed—with both hands raised, channeling her power to prevent his enemy from dying. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

What happened next was something Zhang Wenda simply couldn’t comprehend.

Breathing raggedly, Hu Maomao didn’t answer him. Instead, she immediately floated over to Tang Xingxiong. She reached out to help her up, but her hand came away slick with blood.

Shining a green light from her flashlight onto the wound, she whipped her head around and yelled at Zhang Wenda, "Wenda! Save her! Use your power to save her, quickly!"

"Heh, you want *me* to save *her*?" Zhang Wenda was so incredulous he laughed out loud.

When he saw Tang Xingxiong’s wound slowly closing under the green light, he’d had enough.

In a flash, he blurred into an afterimage and shot forward, his scythe plunging toward Tang Xingxiong’s chest.

But the scythe froze in midair, unable to move. Hu Maomao had her arms spread wide, shielding Tang Xingxiong with her own body without a second thought.

Their eyes locked, neither willing to back down. "What’s this? Playing double agent? You get too attached to your role? Auntie! Don’t make me move you by force!"

But if Zhang Wenda was frantic, Hu Maomao was even more so. "If she dies by your hand, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life! Don’t you understand? She might be—"

Hu Maomao stopped mid-sentence. She looked down to see Tang Xingxiong’s right hand gripping her ankle.

She seemed to be listening to something for a moment. Then, Hu Maomao looked back at Zhang Wenda.

"I’m begging you," she said. "She has something to say. Can you just let her finish? After she’s done, you can do whatever you want! What if this is all a misunderstanding?"

Zhang Wenda’s gaze flickered between Tang Xingxiong and Hu Maomao, then shot to Song Jianguo, who was watching the drama unfold behind them. "Fine! I’ll let her have her say!"

Zhang Wenda walked over, practically grinding his teeth. Forcibly suppressing the urge to crush Tang Xingxiong, he transferred a quarter of the wound on the back of her head away from her.

It was just enough to bring her from the brink of death to merely dying. Even if she turned back into a Crow, she wouldn’t be able to fly.

’In this state, all I have to do is wait for her to finish, and then I can strike at any moment.’

But Tang Xingxiong, having recovered slightly, didn’t seem to care about her predicament at all.

She didn’t even spare Zhang Wenda a glance. With tears streaming down her face, she smiled ecstatically and gripped Hu Maomao’s hands. Her mouth moved, but she was too overcome with emotion to make a sound.

A worried Hu Maomao nodded again and again. She opened her arms and cradled Tang Xingxiong’s head, whispering gentle reassurances as if to a dear friend. "It’s all right, I heard you. I heard the voice in your mind. I heard everything..."

In Hu Maomao’s embrace, Tang Xingxiong finally broke into choked sobs. She was so overwhelmed that her former calm composure was completely gone.

"What the hell are you two doing? Playing some kind of guessing game with me? Spit it out!" Zhang Wenda’s own suspicions were beginning to form, and his patience was wearing thin.

’Could it really be? No, impossible. How could that be possible?’

The more he entertained the suspicion, the heavier his heart grew.

Just as Zhang Wenda was about to speak and confirm his suspicion, he saw Tang Xingxiong look up at him. She raised her blackened index finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.

Zhang Wenda suppressed his emotions and leaned closer. They were so close that only the three of them—he, Tang Xingxiong, and Hu Maomao—would be able to hear a whisper.

Then, Zhang Wenda watched as Tang Xingxiong’s lips parted. In a voice barely audible, she said, "She’s my daughter."

The words struck Zhang Wenda’s mind like a bolt of lightning. Instantly, a flood of past details rushed back to him.

His uncle’s hesitation before getting in the car... the increasingly similar bone structure between her and Song Jianguo... and the most crucial point of all: Black Cat and Crow. Tang Xingxiong’s and Song Jianguo’s powers were so alike!

It all connected in that single moment.

’This is impossible. It’s absolutely impossible!’

Just as Zhang Wenda was reeling in disbelief, Tang Xingxiong rolled up her sleeve to reveal the crucial piece of evidence: a tattoo identical to Song Jianguo’s. "See this?" she said. "Only the top brass in the Big Circle have this kind of restraint."

"From the very beginning, I was just like you: a deep-cover agent for the Third Line. It’s a shame our stories ended so differently. I thought my daughter was dead, and I fell in so deep there was no going back."

As she spoke, she began to laugh through her tears again. "But I never imagined... she isn’t really dead. She’s not dead! Tan Yougen wasn’t lying to me after all!"

The moment she uttered those words, the tattoo on her wrist began to twitch and spread. At the same time, Tang Xingxiong’s body started to glitch, her movements becoming choppy.

Hu Maomao watched in shock as she staggered and collapsed. She rushed to help, but Tang Xingxiong cried out.

"Don’t touch me! It’s the Qianxi virus! It’s contagious!"

Her body beginning to disintegrate, Tang Xingxiong stared at Zhang Wenda and screamed in agony, "Kid! You know what you have to do now, don’t you? This is the payment your Third Line owes me!!"

The glitching grew more severe. Rapidly pixelating, Tang Xingxiong used the last of her strength to shout, "Impressive, Tan Yougen! So a twelve-year sleeper agent finally came in handy! 304989123231!"

After screaming out that last line, Tang Xingxiong collapsed, dissolving into a cluster of black and white pixels.

The mouth of the pixelated mass struggled to form one last, distorted sound toward Hu Maomao. "Please... don’t tell her... It’ll break her heart... I couldn’t bear it..."

As the viewpoint pulled away, the cluster of pixels that had been Tang Xingxiong rapidly faded, transforming into a round game piece that appeared on a complex chessboard, part of an ongoing endgame.

Beside the board sat an enamel mug, steam curling from its lip. Painted on its side were several large, faded red words: "Serve the People."

Tan Yougen, who was sitting to the side, picked up the enamel mug and took a sip. He then raised his wrinkled right hand, placed it on the black pawn, and gently pushed it forward one space.