Lin Ye noticed the absence before he understood it.
It wasn't a dramatic premonition or a clear Threshold alarm. It was something more mundane—and precisely for that reason, more unsettling: the world went on the same, but a small piece was missing, a piece that had already slipped into his routine.
Tao Wen didn't come back.
He didn't appear the next morning with nervous excuses or half-formed rumors. He didn't leave clumsy notes or indirect messages. He simply… wasn't there.
—Maybe he went to ground —Su Yanlin said as she reviewed a simple map on the table—. He did the right thing. Information runners know how to disappear.
Lin Ye didn't answer right away. He was standing, leaning against the window frame, watching the street with almost excessive attention.
—No —he said at last—. He would've warned us.
Yan Mo looked up from his tablets.
—Are you sure?
—No —Lin Ye admitted—. But there are silences that aren't prudent. They're… interrupted.
The Eye of the Threshold reacted with a faint vibration. It wasn't warning of immediate danger, but something in the nearby web of transitions was too clean—as if someone had removed a node without leaving a trace.
—That isn't hiding —he murmured. —That's erasure.
Su Yanlin frowned.
—You can't get involved —she said—. Not in your condition.
Lin Ye closed his eyes for a moment. His body was still weak. The margin barely enough to walk without collapsing. Using the Threshold to search for someone would mean forcing unwilling transitions.
—I know —he replied. —And still…
He turned to Yan Mo.
—Can you find out anything? Officially.
Yan Mo shook his head slowly.
—If I touch records right now, I'll confirm the rumor that you're tied to destabilizations. I'd do more harm than good.
Silence dropped like weight.
—Then —Lin Ye said— I'll do it another way.
Su Yanlin's gaze hardened.
—No —she warned—. Don't play the hero. That boy chose to come close to you. He knew the risk.
The words were logical.
That didn't make them acceptable.
—I chose to listen too —Lin Ye replied—. And then to go to that meeting.
He leaned harder into the window frame as a stab ran through his side.
—If something happened to him because of that… —he didn't finish.
Su Yanlin exhaled.
—What are you planning to do?
Lin Ye opened his hand slowly.
—Nothing spectacular —he said—. Nothing that justifies direct retaliation.
He activated the Eye of the Threshold just enough to sense absences. Not people. Not footprints. Absences where there should've been continuity.
The world pushed back. It hurt. The cost manifested as sudden dizziness and a stabbing pressure at his temple.
—There —he murmured.
He pointed to a spot on the map.
—Lower North District. Three streets where the flow of information… breaks.
Yan Mo tensed.
—That district is under "informal cleaning" —he said—. Minor houses hire people to solve problems without leaving traces.
Su Yanlin folded the map shut.
—That confirms something —she said—. But it doesn't give you permission to go.
Lin Ye smiled, tired.
—I won't go —he replied—. I'll send someone they won't care about.
They both stared at him.
—Who? —Yan Mo asked.
—No one —Lin Ye said—. I'll just watch… from the margin.
That night, Lin Ye sat alone in the room, breathing carefully, focusing not on moving but on listening to transitions. He didn't search for Tao Wen directly. He searched for smaller interruptions: doors that didn't open, footsteps that didn't return, routes that closed too perfectly.
The Threshold answered in fragments. Pain. Confusion. Warnings.
Then something aligned.
An alley where the echo didn't come back the same.
A point where the night felt thicker.
A space where the world had been too efficient.
Lin Ye's eyes snapped open, gasping.
—They have him —he whispered.
He didn't know if Tao Wen was alive.
He didn't know if he was already too late.
He only knew one thing with absolute clarity:
If he did nothing,the silence would become a permanent answer.
Su Yanlin appeared in the doorway.
—I heard you breathing differently —she said—. That's never a good sign.
Lin Ye looked at her.
—I'm not going to fight —he said—. I won't use offensive techniques.
—That doesn't mean it's safe —she replied.
—It never is —he said back—. But this time… it isn't for power.
Su Yanlin studied him for a long moment. Then, against all expectation, she nodded.
—Ten minutes —she said—. If you don't come back, I drag you out by force.
—Fair deal —Lin Ye replied.
As they slipped out into the night in silence, elsewhere in Huo'an a figure tossed a broken tablet into the fire.
—Too soft —someone said—. He chose the wrong person to help.
The flame crackled.