Mission

Hearing someone call his name, the man turned his head, his gaze settling on Zhang Jingyi, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, it’s me.”

Zhang Jingyi was clearly excited, her words tumbling out rapidly. “Oh my god, it really is you! I absolutely loved your performance on the show, especially that dance—”

“Thank you for your support,” Song Ran interrupted gently with a polite nod and a warm voice.

Zhang Jingyi’s face flushed red, seemingly realizing she had gotten carried away, and she quickly lowered her voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here…”

Song Ran responded with a gentle smile but said no more.

Zhang Jingyi glanced at him furtively, the tension in her expression easing slightly, as if she had finally relaxed a bit.

Yun Xian watched the scene with a calm expression, deliberately averting her gaze.

The elevator doors opened again, and a young man in his early twenties stepped inside.

He looked ordinary, with a slender frame, wearing a dark gray hoodie. His eyes scanned the elevator before he lowered his head and quietly stood in the corner, appearing somewhat uneasy.

At the final opening of the doors, a little girl with twin ponytails entered.

She wore a red dress and clutched an old cloth doll tightly in her arms. Her steps were steady and composed, without a hint of panic.

She raised her head, surveying everyone in the elevator with a cool gaze, showing a maturity and wariness beyond her years.

Zhang Jingyi froze, her eyes fixed on the girl, unable to help but blurt out, “Little one, what are you doing here?”

The girl glanced at her coldly but said nothing. She lowered her head and gently patted the back of her doll with tender focus, as if comforting someone.

Then she moved to a corner of the elevator, standing straight with her feet together, silent.

Zhang Jingyi looked at her with a complicated expression, her lips twitching slightly, but she ultimately said nothing. She lowered her eyes and quietly withdrew her gaze.

As the elevator doors slowly closed, the metal panels sealed tightly, enclosing the six of them in a small, confined space.

At that moment, the screen beside the door froze on: Current number of occupants 6/6.

The atmosphere inside the elevator grew heavy. All eyes instinctively focused on the small screen.

After a brief silence, the screen suddenly dimmed, then new words appeared:

[Mission: Find the Zhang couple]

[Approaching: L2]

Zhang Jingyi stared at the words, her eyes panicked. She whispered, “What does this mean?”

Beside her, the chubby young man Li Zhiqiang forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Looks like we have to find someone—‘the Zhang couple,’ huh.”

Song Ran leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the screen, his brow furrowed slightly. After a few seconds, he spoke softly, “Don’t worry. We’ll understand once we get there.”

The little girl still hugged her cloth doll, her youthful face expressionless. Her delicate hands gently stroked the doll’s back, occasionally making soft “shh” sounds.

Yun Xian stared intently at the screen, her brow furrowed deeply, fingers involuntarily clenching. Her mind raced to piece together possible scenarios for the mission but found no clues.

“Ding—” The elevator doors slowly opened, revealing a blurred scene outside. A thick mist obscured vision, with only a faint warm yellow glow shimmering distantly.

Li Zhiqiang and Song Ran exchanged glances and stepped out first.

Yun Xian took a deep breath and was about to follow when she noticed the little girl had silently moved beside her, looking up with an inscrutable expression.

Suppressing her curiosity, Yun Xian walked out together with the girl. Zhang Jingyi hurriedly followed behind, and the male university student brought up the rear with a leisurely pace.

No sooner had she stepped out than Yun Xian felt a dizzying blur.

When she regained her senses, she found herself alone in a lavish bedroom, surrounded by classical European-style decor.

Walnut wainscoting covered the walls, intricately carved with exquisite patterns; from the ceiling hung a magnificent crystal chandelier, its light soft yet tinged with coolness. Against one wall stood a spacious carved bed draped with white canopies, partially veiling an old-fashioned oil painting above the headboard.

Beside the bed was an elegant dressing table, finely crafted and neatly arranged with several makeup items. A thick Persian rug lay beneath her feet; the dark velvet curtains, complemented by white sheer drapes, concealed the vast night beyond the window. Through a narrow gap, she could faintly glimpse dense woods outside.

As Yun Xian was taking it all in, a gentle knock came at the door. “Miss, dinner is ready,” a soft female voice called from outside.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, laced with surprise and caution. After a brief hesitation, she stepped forward and opened the door.

Standing there was a middle-aged woman dressed in simple, neat maid attire. Her hair was tidily combed, and her face wore a kind smile. “Miss, please come down to eat. The master and mistress are waiting.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Yun Xian’s mind. What kind of plot was this?

Suppressing her unease, she nodded quietly and followed the maid. The walnut-carved banisters lining the staircase gleamed warmly under the soft lighting, their craftsmanship exquisite, evoking an ancient, solemn atmosphere.

Upon reaching the ground floor, she entered a grand hall decorated in classical opulence. The marble floor was adorned with intricately patterned rugs; exquisite oil paintings hung on the walls, and an antique piano stood quietly in the corner, exuding a heavy sense of history.

On one side of the hall, a wooden dining table was set with orderly silverware and candle holders. Several people were already seated around it.

What first caught Yun Xian’s eye was a middle-aged couple: the man wore a neat suit, his every gesture refined and gentle; the woman was dressed in a deep green gown, her demeanor dignified, her face softened by a gentle smile.

At the head of the table sat an elderly lady clad in a black velvet cheongsam with mid-length sleeves. Her gray hair was impeccably styled, and her eyes held a sharp, scrutinizing edge.

Across from her, Yun Xian spotted a familiar figure—the little girl who had come out with her—seated calmly, still clutching the cloth doll, gently patting its back with a focused, serene expression.

Yun Xian’s steps faltered slightly, her brow barely creasing as a wave of inexplicable unease surged within her.

“Miss, please have a seat,” the middle-aged woman urged with a warm smile.

At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded from the staircase. A young maid rushed down, her voice tinged with panic: “Master, the second young miss absolutely refuses to come down and is babbling nonsense!”