Assassination Beside the Nest

Compared to his classmates, Hou Rui was faring no better. Like them, he clutched brand-new textbooks, reciting them as if his life depended on it. But just as the end-of-term exams were drawing to a close, a message suddenly popped up on his WeChat:

"Within 20 hours, Room 1103, Faculty Building No. 2, Beijing Media University. Task payment: $25,000." Attached was a photograph of an elderly man wearing glasses—clearly a member of the university staff.

"Of all the times... asking me to kill a teacher during finals," Hou Rui muttered under his breath.

"What did you say, Monkey?" Ma Siyuan, his roommate on the lower bunk, craned his neck and asked.

"Nothing, just debating whether to get noodles or rice from the canteen," Hou Rui quickly deflected, nipping the dangerous topic in the bud.

"Then grab me a Yangzhou fried rice, I’ll pay you when you get back."

"And I want egg noodles with gravy."

"Two roujiamo for me."

"A basket of Shandong buns, thanks."

"Monkey, I want braised pork over rice, with extra sauce."

With one careless word, Hou Rui was instantly transformed into the dorm's designated meal-fetcher. That was just life in a university male dormitory: whoever went to the canteen was doomed to bring back seven servings, since no one else would budge—laziness was the law.

An hour later, Hou Rui emerged from the second canteen, hands full with various takeout bags. Dressed in a sleeveless vest and baggy shorts, flip-flops slapping against the ground, he looked no different from any other student on campus. But if anyone had known what was running through Hou Rui’s mind, they’d have been utterly shocked.

"Tomorrow morning from nine to ten-thirty is the Art Theory exam, then Marxist Philosophy from eleven to twelve-thirty, and Aesthetics in the afternoon. I really don’t have any time to act," Hou Rui thought, glancing at his watch. It was already eight in the evening, which meant that he had to finish the task before four the next afternoon—or else...

Every time he thought about it, a chill ran down his spine. He forced himself not to dwell on the bio-chip’s threats and instead focused on how to approach the target.

The entrances to the faculty buildings all had card access systems, with security guards and fixed cameras on the first floor. Getting in unnoticed seemed nearly impossible. If he waited for the target to leave the building, who knew if the man would head to a classroom to proctor an exam or leave campus entirely? If the target left the school and got into a car, Hou Rui’s own life would be forfeit.

No, he had to find a way to act while the man was still on campus.

Having settled on this, Hou Rui knew there was another, unspoken step he had to take: investigate his target. If the man was a universally despised figure, Hou Rui would feel little guilt about the job. But if he was just a regular professor, things would be different. Not that he could afford to hesitate, but at least Hou Rui planned to somehow get the payment to the man’s family afterwards—a small compensation for the guilt he’d have to bear.

As he pondered how to sneak into the faculty building, the sudden screech of brakes nearby drew his attention.

Some twenty meters away, on a campus road beside the greenery, a gold Mercedes 600 sports car stopped right in front of a long-haired girl in a dress. Immediately, a slick-looking guy jumped out, rounded the car, and grabbed hold of the girl, refusing to let go.

"Where do you think you’re going? Get in the car, let’s get dinner," he said.

"No, let me go."

"Let go? From this moment, you’re my girlfriend. Get in."

"Who’s your girlfriend? Let go or I’ll scream!"

"Don’t take my kindness for granted. You’ll be screaming soon, all right. Now move." With that, he started pulling her toward the car, ignoring her struggles. A few nearby students whispered among themselves, but none dared intervene.

Hou Rui hadn’t planned to meddle, but the Mercedes, of all places, had blocked the only pedestrian path through the green belt. If he wanted to take a shortcut back to the dorm, he’d have to pass through here; otherwise, it was a forty-five-minute detour or a literal leap over the meter-high hedge—neither of which appealed to him. So, flip-flops slapping, Hou Rui walked over.

"Hey, someone’s actually stepping in!"

"Must not know what death means," commented some of the onlookers, eyes glued to the unfolding drama. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time something like this happened, and the guy with the slick attitude was not someone to cross. They watched with keen interest to see what would happen to Hou Rui, the would-be hero.

"Excuse me, your car’s blocking the path. Mind moving it?" Hou Rui’s tone was still friendly.

"Who the hell are you? You dare interrupt me, Da Hai, when I’m hitting on a girl?" the guy shouted without even looking back.

But when he turned and saw Hou Rui, arms laden with takeout, he froze in shock. His expression shifted quickly from surprise to outright terror; he even let go of the girl without realizing it.

"Oh, it’s you? Long time no see," Hou Rui said, recognizing the guy as Liu Hai, the pampered son he’d once scared witless at the shooting range.

"I—I—I—" The once-arrogant Da Hai stammered, edging backward.

"Move the car!" Hou Rui suddenly barked, his eyes flashing with a murderous intent that was impossible to miss.

"Ah!" Liu Hai, reliving his nightmare, turned and fled, abandoning his car entirely. He vaulted the meter-high hedge and disappeared into the crowd.

"Wow!" The onlookers gasped. Who could have guessed there was someone at the university even more fearsome than Liu Hai? This was big news. Hou Rui, for his part, just continued on his way, hands full of takeout, as if nothing had happened.

"Thank you," the girl said softly.

"No problem," Hou Rui replied offhandedly, but as he glanced at her, he was struck speechless. Liu Hai may have been a scoundrel, but his taste was impeccable—the girl’s cascading waves and otherworldly beauty were enough to steal anyone’s breath, especially the mature allure that seemed beyond her years.

While Hou Rui was still dazzled, the girl slipped away, leaving behind only a glimpse of her enchanting silhouette.

By ten that night, most of the dorms had turned out their lights. Hou Rui climbed into bed, pulled up his covers, and immediately fell asleep, ignoring his roommates’ usual attempts to chat before bed.

But just after midnight, Hou Rui’s eyes snapped open. He listened briefly to the chorus of snoring and teeth-grinding in the room, then nimbly slipped out of bed and out of the dorm.

A pane of glass in the first-floor men’s bathroom window had been broken and patched over with a piece of wood. This was Hou Rui’s escape route—he slipped out without the guards at the exit noticing a thing.

Sticking to the shadows of the elm trees along the greenbelt, Hou Rui made his way swiftly across the campus sports field to the faculty building.

The night was quiet, the moon and stars faint. Most people were lost in dreams, but Hou Rui darted from shadow to shadow until he reached the rear of Faculty Building No. 2. After carefully surveying the area, he began to climb the drainpipe.

His luck was poor—he had to climb all the way to the fifth floor, hands and feet aching, before he found a window that wasn’t tightly shut. At last, he slipped inside.

The rest was easier. Hou Rui crept up the stairwell to the eleventh floor, careful not to trigger even a single motion-sensor light. By the time he reached the right floor, his watch read 2:13 AM.

Yao Shouchun, Professor of Journalism and Communication at Beijing Media University, age fifty-one, unmarried, had spent years researching communication equipment and also served as a graduate advisor. That was the official profile Hou Rui had found on the university website. He’d also asked about Professor Yao anonymously on the school’s internal forum—upperclassmen unanimously criticized the man’s character, accusing him of embezzlement and taking credit for students’ work.

Since the target deserved little sympathy, Hou Rui shook off the last of his guilt and moved with renewed confidence. Just as he reached the door of Room 1103, however, a door a few meters away swung open without warning. Bathed in the room’s light, a woman in a sheer nightdress stepped into the corridor.

At that moment, Hou Rui’s heart pounded out of control, surely racing past 120 beats per minute. He pressed himself tightly into the shallow shadow by the door of 1103, praying the woman wouldn’t notice him. If she did, he’d have no choice but to silence the witness.

Of all the things to fear, this was it.

The woman, rubbing sleep from her eyes, began to walk straight toward him—no more than seven or eight steps from the door to where he stood.

Hou Rui clenched his fists, ready to strike if she made a sound. Whatever happened, she couldn’t be allowed to scream.

Six steps, five, four—she was almost within range. In the shadow, Hou Rui saw her hand drop from her eyes...