Boquin’s eyes flew open as his body jolted upright.

  ‘You good? You were twitching in your sleep the whole time,’ Zifuan murmured, lowering his binoculars to look at Boquin.

  Blinking away his sleep, he glanced around. Liqui was gone, which left only the two of them crammed into the space inside the makeshift balcony. Boquin yawned and tried to stretch his stiff arms.

  ‘How long’s it been?’

  ‘Two hours left. Still no sign. Maybe Liqui’s right; Gajan could have been compromised.’

  Boquin stared out at the dark windows of Mingchi’s estate. ‘Where’d she go, anyway?’

  ‘Bathroom.’

  ‘Again? How many times is that now?’

  ‘Girls,’ Zifuan muttered, lifting the binoculars back to his eyes. ‘Bad dream?’

  I can’t remember what I was dreaming, Boquin thought. ‘Yeah, think so.’

  As the final hour crept closer, Boquin’s neck and back throbbed, but with only the two of them on the balcony, the space felt less stifling. He shifted to face Zifuan, leaning against the bars at his side. The stiffness in his joints finally eased after he stretched his legs out slowly, knees popping, until his feet nudged Zifuan’s thigh.

  I thought by now we’d have found Gajan, Boquin though. How will his disappearance twist the plans Gan’s been making with the other Yang clusters? I wonder if has Gan told Zifuan more than he’s told me.

  ‘How do you feel about working with the other Yangs again?’ Boquin asked.

  ‘You mean the southern and central cells?’

  Boquin nodded.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Zifuan admitted as he lowered the binoculars. ‘It’s not something I’m proud of, but if Gan says it’s crucial, why wouldn’t it be? You think he’s lying?’

  ‘Yeah. To himself,’ Boquin said flatly. ‘We were stronger in the annui-cycle we cut them off. Stopped being dragged into their regional conflicts and started learning how to fight our own battles.’

  ‘Not how I see it,’ Zifuan countered. ‘We went downhill after severing ties. We couldn’t keep the famine from breaking our district.’

  ‘You’d rather accept help from terrorists and murderers—’

  ‘Than see my family starve?’ Zifuan said as he pressed the binoculars to his eyes. ‘A hundred times over, brother.’

  Boquin pressed his lips together, turning his gaze out over the city. ‘That morning we watched Nanxin burn, I couldn’t believe it was my fellow Yangs behind it. It felt like they drove a knife into the heart of our cause. Back then, every Yang in the East stood united in hatred against those heathens. But now… that anger’s faded. Everyone’s moved on… Everyone but me. I’m being cut out of decisions, shut out of plans. And Gan,’ his voice cracked, ‘he’s more secretive than ever. I used to be the one he trusted above all others brother, I swear. Something’s changed with these new alliances, and I’m… it feels really pathetic to admit, but I feel a bit hurt.’

  Zifuan lowered the binoculars, his expression softening as he looked at Boquin. ‘It’s not just you Gan’s acting weird with, I promise that. We’re all following the same orders you are, working towards something we hope is meaningful.’

  ‘Lately, that explanation just hasn’t been enough for me,’ Boquin said as his voice hardened.

  A breeze swept through the tiny balcony, whistling between the gaps in the creaky planks below, the chill reminding Boquin that his bladder was heavy.

  ‘When Liqui’s back, I’ll slip out for a moment,’ Boquin said. ‘Gotta go, too. What’s taking her so long anyway?’

  ‘She says there’s a spot not far. She’ll be back soon, probably already on her way.’

  ‘What, like an actual bathroom?’

  ‘Just ask her when she’s back. She’ll take you in a heartbeat. You know she likes you, right?’ Zifuan said casually.

  Boquin raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re surprised,’ Zifuan chuckled. ‘Everyone thought you knew.’

  ‘Did she actually tell you that?’

  ‘Does she have to? She certainly doesn’t look at me the same way.’

  Boquin’s face coloured. ‘That’s hardly proof.’

  ‘She’s gone to the bathroom five times now. Each time she’s come back, I’ve offered to let her sit by the trapdoor so she doesn’t have to keep crawling over me. But no, she insists on sitting between us. Or more specifically, next to you.’

  Boquin had no answer to that. Zifuan had a point – Liqui’s seating choice seemed illogical.

  ‘Well, whatever,’ Boquin muttered. ‘I’m sure there’s some other explanation. I’ve known Liqui ever since joining the Yangs. I can’t imagine her liking me that way. Anyway, I’ll go with her when she’s back. I’m about to piss myself.’

  ‘Any dark corner works, too. You’re a guy.’

  Boquin grimaced. ‘I’ve never pissed on the street. Not starting now.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Zifuan shrugged.

  Silence settled for a few minutes. Zifuan scanned the estate windows while Boquin sat in the corner, distracted. Suddenly, the hatch above Zifuan’s head rattled.

  ‘I think that’s her,’ Zifuan said as he pushed the hatch open.

  ‘Is Boquin awake yet?’ a soft voice floated down from above.

  ‘Yeah. He needs the bathroom too,’ Zifuan said with his head craned up. ‘Mind taking him? He wants to go wherever you’ve been going.’

  Boquin shuffled forward on hands and knees until he could peer up through the hatch. ‘That all right, Li?’ he said as he caught sight of her pale, hooded face looking down.

  ‘Of course! Come on up, I’ll take you. There was something I wanted to show you anyway.’

  ‘You better show me after, too,’ Zifuan said as he stood up and heaved himself through the hatch. Once he disappeared, Boquin followed. The three of them stood around the open hatch, the faint glow rising through it casting the only light in the darkened room.

  ‘You’ll be fine here by yourself?’ Boquin asked quietly.

  ‘Of course, brother. As soon as I see Gajan, I’ll call you or Liqui.’

  With that, Zifuan dropped himself through the hatch and closed it behind him, cutting off the last light in the dark room.

  Boquin felt a hand close around his wrist, tugging him forward through the dark. He nearly stumbled but followed.

  ‘Liqui, slow down! You’ll knock something over!’

  ‘Quit talking and get your mask on, dummy!’

  Boquin barely had time to pull it over his nose as they pushed through room after room, weaving between tall stacks of dusty crates stamped with the Shyou-Shuya brand, untouched for countless annui-cycles. Thin slits of outside lamplight slipped through the boarded windows like skinny golden ribbons cutting through the darkness. In the corners, defunct machinery loomed like hulking silhouettes beneath draped white sheets. Boquin clipped his shoulder against a doorframe before they halted at what he recognised as the main exit.

  Here, Liqui wedged her fingers into the narrow gap and heaved the door open. As soon as there was space to slip through, she seized his wrist again and stepped out. Before she could circle back to pull it shut, Boquin shook his head and closed it himself.

  Boquin looked back at her once more. Her figure was half lost in the folds of her loose Yang robes, the hood falling back just enough for the dim streetlight to highlight her pale features around her eyes. ‘You’re gonna love what I’m going to show you. Ready?’ she asked from under her mask.

  ‘If you’re asking my bladder if it’s ready to burst, the answer is yes.’ He felt himself beginning to shift from foot to foot on the spot.

  ‘Come on! You’re going to love where I’m taking you.’ Without waiting for a response, Liqui tugged him down the street.

  ‘What 5-star toilet are you taking me to? I’ll be sure not to miss with my aim,’ he jested.

  Her eyes, long and slightly tilted at the corners, gave her smile a sharp edge even when laughter softened it.

  ‘Ew, Bo! You’re the first person I’m sharing this secret with, show some sincerity!’ she returned the banter.

  They turned right, then left, moving past shuttered storefronts. In the doorways, gaunt figures lay sprawled under rags, too still to tell whether they were sleeping or dead.

  ‘Did you bring your sibiv?’ Boquin asked.

  ‘Never leave it behind.’ Liqui shifted her robe to reveal the silver blaster at her side. ‘It’s too precious to me.’

  ‘Ever manage to get it working?’ Boquin angled his head, watching her hands as she checked the clamps.

  ‘Last time I opened it, a few annui-cycles back, everything looked fine. It should work. But I’ve never fired it to check.’ Liqui brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  ‘Why not? Afraid of the kick? That thing’s a mini cannon if I’ve ever seen one.’

  ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘Because my father was the last to fire it. It feels wrong to break that.’

  Boquin nodded. ‘He did a lot of good for our cause using that sibiv. Gan always told me how he’d never seen a weapon like it. Your dad carried it right to the end.’

  ‘That’s why it scares me to check if it actually works,’ Liqui admitted. ‘Pulling the trigger was the last thing he did. Every time I go to pull it, I can’t help but picture him in that moment, meeting the Light with his finger on this weapon’s trigger. Anyways, I’m sure it works. One of these days, I’ll suck it up and find out for real.’

  Liqui came to an abrupt half in front of a narrow archway and descended its steps, leading to a dead-end where a single, weathered elevator stood. The old lift, complete with a hinged door and a brass knob, looked like it belonged amidst the urban decay. Liqui pressed the call button, and the sound of groaning machinery echoed as the lift rose up to them. When the bell chimed, she turned the knob and opened the door, to reveal a cramped, ageing space with peeling wallpaper and a flickering, yellowed light.

  ‘Is this the bathroom?’ Boquin quipped as he stepped in behind her.

  ‘Try peeing in the corner and see how quickly I throw you out the service hatch,’ she shot back.

  He chuckled and pulled the door shut with a creak. Liqui pressed one of three buttons in the lift, the topmost one, and it began its slow, shuddering ascent. The lift swayed as it bumped into the walls of the shaft.

  While they waited in silence, Boquin could only think about one thing: Was Zifuan being serious about Liqui liking me? It couldn’t be… It’s like it’s always been.

  He looked down and realised she was still holding his wrist. Girls hold hands when they like a boy, don’t they? But she’s holding my wrist, not my hand. Like an elder sister might. That’s probably how she sees me.

  At the top, the lift shuddered to a halt. Liqui pulled the door open and led him onto a narrow street, their boots scuffing across cracked tiles. The walls were narrow, plaster flaking away to expose the rough clay brick beneath. Overhead, rows of dimmed lanterns hung in short lines, untouched by even the faintest night breeze. Above them all, the ceiling was a tangled canopy of pipes, vents and wires, criss-crossing in chaotic patterns.

  ‘This way,’ Liqui said as she tugged his wrist again. They moved side by side through the arcade street. Abandoned stalls stood like rib bones jutting from the stone, their wooden counters collapsed, canvas roofs shredded.

  ‘How far are we?’ Boquin asked. ‘I’m getting desperate.’

  ‘You don’t have to whisper; we’re alone on this level!’ Liqui let go of his wrist and skipped ahead, spinning to walk backwards with a grin. ‘This is a private street!’

  ‘Private? How come?’ Boquin asked.

  At that moment, the feeling of unseen eyes made him slow his steps. His skin prickled. Something’s up.

  ‘The place I’m taking you is a private bathroom in a noble’s holiday home,’ Liqui explained, turning back around, her voice echoing off the decrepit walls. ‘Some northerner bought out every shop on this street just to control who uses the lift. Owns the place we’re headed to.’

  A sharp crack of glass came from one of the empty stores on the right. Boquin froze, glancing through the clear doors of a darkened shopfront.

  ‘Relax, it’s probably just rodents,’ Liqui called without looking back.

  Still uneasy, Boquin moved forward, scanning left and right, his fingers brushing the hilt of the dagger beneath his robe.

  The quiet felt wrong, and that made Boquin’s hair rise.

  He looked back. A man trailed them about fifty metres behind, maybe closer. Sleeveless red hoodie, hands tucked into his pockets, a lazy sway in his shoulders as he walked.

  ‘Li…’ Boquin murmured, quickening his pace.

  ‘What?’ Liqui faced Boquin, her eyes settling and then widening at the man following them. He grabbed her arm and walked faster.

  ‘I doubt he’s by himself up here. We need to get lost.’

  ‘What do we do?’ Liqui whispered as she leaned in.

  ‘Take us anywhere but where you were leading me.’

  She nodded. She steered them right into a branching street, empty but narrow.

  Boquin pulled her tight against him as they moved, his shoulder brushing hers with every hurried step. A glance behind him confirmed the worst.

  Their stalker had just rounded the corner behind them, his stride quickening to match theirs.

  Liqui’s grip tightened on his arm. Boquin snapped his head back around.

  She can’t run as fast as me. I need a plan.

  Three more figures emerged less than thirty metres ahead, leaning against the wall as if they had been waiting. They wore the same uniform as the man who followed them: sleeveless red hoodies, black cargo trousers, and tattoos on their arms and framing their faces. The most striking one was across their face; A thin crimson slash running from one eyebrow, over the bridge of the nose, and down across the other.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  A wolf whistle from the stalker at their rear pierced the silence. ‘That’s a cute girl you’ve got with you, brother.’

  Boquin’s left hand slid to the dagger beneath his robe. He halted with Liqui at his side as the three ahead pushed off the wall and swaggered forward with wide, feral grins.

  His chest tightened. Red Eyebrow gangsters. Gan’s warnings returned like cold nails driven into his bones. Criminals working under Chong Fan, parasites feeding on famine. Lost causes.

  ‘What’s this?’ one of the front men sneered. ‘Yang dongfa?’

  ‘Where ya goin’?’ asked another.

  ‘Nowhere that concerns you,’ Boquin snapped back. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the man behind closing in on their flank. They were boxed in. His grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger.

  I can’t take these four and guarantee Liqui’s safety.

  Up close, the bandits’ hunger showed in their hollow cheeks and jutting collarbones.

  ‘I think it is our business. Don’t you, Kwan?’ one asked with a dry laugh.

  ‘Sure do,’ the other said, eyes sliding up and down Liqui. ‘Saw this pretty lady walking through earlier. We wanna see where you’re going too. This much movement during times like these? Especially from those hips… makes us cuuurious.’

  Boquin blood was boiling, his jaw clenched tight as he chose his words carefully. ‘How about we give you some food and you walk away?’

  They froze. ‘Food?’ one of them asked.

  ‘What food?’ the man behind demanded.

  Liqui’s grip tightened on Boquin’s arm.

  ‘Just some snacks from Wan Chai,’ Boquin said evenly.

  ‘You Yang hoarding food now?’ one spat.

  Boquin slipped a hand into his robe.

  All four tensed, hands flying to concealed weapons behind their backs.

  Boquin pulled out a red packet of chips and extended it forward.

  ‘Relax. Here.’ The middle bandit snatched it and inspected it while the other two gawked over his shoulder.

  ‘What is it?!’ asked the bandit from behind.

  ‘I’ve got one more in my other pocket,’ Boquin added. His voice dropped, cool and deliberate. ‘But as you already know, we’re Yang. Which means I’ve also got a dagger hanging off that same pocket. And so does she.’

  One of the bandits cocked an eyebrow. ‘You think we don’t?’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ Boquin said evenly. ‘But you can either take both packets of food and let each of us go our own way, or take it over our dead bodies after we’ve dropped one or two of your.’

  ‘A gamble I don’t mind! No more fucking around! Take us where you were going!’ one of them snarled, flashing a dagger. The others took out knives too while the one behind them took a step forward, squeezing them in even more.

  Before Boquin could react, Liqui shoved him aside, one hand locking on his wrist while she pulled free the heavy shape of her blaster with the other. He quickly took out his dagger as he realised what she was doing.

  What the hell – her dad’s sibiv?

  ‘Leave us alone!’ Liqui barked, turning around to aim the gun at the thug behind them as she walked her and Boquin’s backs to the wall. Boquin followed and pointed its tip to the bandits.

  They edged to the side as Liqui swung the sibiv in arcs, forcing the lone bandit to shuffle back and rejoin the other three.

  For a moment, no one moved.

  Then, one of the bandits reached behind him and yanked out a small black gun from his belt.

  An R23!

  ‘Hah, bitch! Think the Red Bandits don’t stay strapped?!’ the bandit snarled as he thrusted the pistol towards Liqui.

  ‘Never heard of a sibiv before, assholes?!’ Liqui yelled, her shoulders stiff. ‘One blast through the middle and the heat’ll sear the rest of you where you stand!’

  She let go of Boquin, bracing the weapon in both hands. Her pale fingers were steady, though a faint tremor ran through her arms.

  Boquin’s stomach dropped. He knew the gun might not work, but the bandits didn’t.

  They staggered back a half-step, a wary look in their eyes now that the infamous weapon was aimed squarely at their heads.

  Then the pistol-man stepped forward. ‘Not if I shoot first!’

  ‘Better make sure you don’t miss!’ Liqui barked, stepping forward in turn. ‘Don’t matter where I shoot! One shot and the entire street goes with you!’

  All four bandits shuffled back again. Her voice didn’t waver. Her eyes gleamed like sharpened glass beneath the shadow of her hood.

  Before Boquin could think of what to do, another of the Red Eyebrows tilted his head, peering at Liqui.

  ‘Wait. Stop, put the gun down. I think I know you, Yang.’

  Liqui’s gaze snapped to him, startled but silent.

  ‘My brother was hurt bad during Mingchi’s coronation,’ continued the Red Eyebrow. ‘Told me some cute Yang chick looked after him in your tents. Said he couldn’t forget her face – and seeing her haul around a fucking sibiv on your hip. That’s you, isn’t it? Those pretty eyes tell me everything– yeah, that’s you.’

  ‘Who the fuck cares!’ another one of the bandits exclaimed. ‘Wherever they were headed, there’s probably more food like this!’ he waved the red bag of chips.

  ‘Who – who the fuck cares? My fucking brother does!’ the other snapped as he turned to face him. ‘He liked this bitch; talked my ears off for hours about her! Did you forget who my brother is, Kwan? Your vanguard captain?!’

  The other bandit’s face dropped.

  ‘He’s sensitive about chicks he thinks is cute,’ he continued. ‘Big brother finds out we hurt her, it’s on all of us.’ The bandit turned to face Boquin. ‘Just… give us that other packet of chips and we’ll be gone.’

  Boquin nodded, slipped a hand into his pocket, and drew out the second packet. He held it forward. But before anyone could take it, the Red Eyebrow aiming the gun at them shook his head. ‘Fuck that. No way I’m walking for two bags of chips when there’s more to grab. Your brother’ll never know a thing. We only gotta kill one—’

  Boquin’s stomach knotted.

  Click.

  Liqui pulled the trigger. Nothing.

  Heart pounding, Boquin dove and tackled her to the side just as the bandit with the pistol reacted – and fired back. The shot whined above their bodies, shattering glass at the far end of the street. Boquin shielded Liqui with his body, bracing to blanket her against the next shot—

  ‘You cockhead, you nearly killed her!’ another bandits screamed. Boquin heard the sound of a loud grunt and someone falling to the floor. ‘You think I’m more scared of starving than my fucking brother?! Who the fuck made you choose how I die?!’

  The empty street exploded into chaos. Boquin heard thumps and braved a look. The other three bandits had turned on the shooter, laying into him with fists, kicks and a heavy pipe.

  ‘Quick!’ Boquin hissed, dragging Liqui to her feet. Together they bolted down the street while the gang tore into their own.

  They raced around one corner, then another, then a third before Liqui yanked Boquin to a stop, clutching her side to catch her breath. Boquin leaned against the wall, and waited a tense moment. After a beat of silence, he pulled his mask down and suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing down the empty street.

  Liqui tried to hold it in, but soon she was doubled over too, her laughter spilling out until she had to lean against Boquin’s shoulder for balance.

  ‘Did you see that?!’ Boquin wheezed between gasps.

  ‘Last place I thought I’d get the princess treatment!’ Liqui choked out, still giggling as she pulled her mask down too.

  Boquin straightened up, wiping his eyes. ‘Liqui… you’ve got balls! Gan better quit sending you on babysitting runs and throw you on the field!’

  Liqui blinked. ‘You really think so?’

  Boquin shrugged. ‘Think so? You could probably rob a bank with nothing but phone call!’

  She burst into a laugh. ‘A phone call?’

  They began down the quiet arcade street, their footsteps echoing between shuttered stalls and the dark, sagging lanterns overhead.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he said, warming to his own cheeky nonsense. ‘You’d call the front desk, tell them you’re coming in an hour with a sibiv and an empty sack, and they’d say, “Yes ma’am, notes or gold?”’

  Liqui nudged his shoulder, still laughing. ‘Oh, shut up. I couldn’t be that scary even if I tried.’

  They walked close enough that their arms brushed now and then, neither one pulling away.

  ‘What? I’m serious!’ Boquin insisted, hands raised. ‘They’d apologise if they made you wait, roll out a carpet, offer you refreshments… and then write a thank-you card for choosing to rob their bank.’

  She laughed harder, hand over her mouth, leaning into him for balance as they walked.

  ‘Careful now,’ Boquin said. ‘Can’t have Gan seeing me be this close to a girl.’

  ‘Why not?’ Liqui asked. The cool corridor air carried the faint scent of burnt lamp oil and damp concrete, and in the quiet between them, every shared glance felt a little warmer.

  ‘He used to accuse me of “distracting personnel” during meetings.’

  Liqui raised a brow and gave him a teasing look. ‘Distracting? Boquin, what’re you on about?’

  He returned a grave nod. ‘Apparently I was weaponising my charm… with my poems. Gan says a few girls back at base even approached him about me. He shooed them all away before ever telling me, the bastard. Claimed he didn’t want me getting distracted.’

  ‘You’ve had girls from base asking after you because of your poems?’ Liqui made a face. ‘Boquin, you expect me to believe that?’

  ‘Dangerous things, my poems,’ Boquin declared. ‘Fatal, even. Nearly knocked you off your feet just now.’

  ‘What are you talking about—’

  ‘A girl’s gait, unbalanced…’ He slid his foot lightly in front of hers. Liqui stumbled with a sharp gasp, only for Boquin to catch her by the shoulder and spin her upright in one smooth motion.

  ‘To be clumsy, she has a talent,’ he teased, circling around her.

  ‘I do not!’ she exclaimed as she turned to try and keep up, but tripped over her own feet. He caught her hand and guided her through a playful turn.

  ‘But if only Gan felt your sweet sibiv’s kiss,’ Boquin slipped behind her. Liqui spun, expecting him on her left – only for him to pop up on her right, making her jump.

  ‘I fear he may crown you the next Ibilis!’

  Liqui tried to shove him but her push dissolved into laughter. ‘Boquin, you are ridiculous!’

  He bowed with a flourish. ‘At your service.’

  ‘Don’t you need to go to the bathroom?’

  ‘Well, now I do! I’d almost forgotten the feeling!’

  ‘It’s just up ahead, fool boy,’ Liqui said, catching her breath.

  ‘You mean foolish boy?’

  She jabbed a finger at him. ‘I swear, if you correct my Yue again, we’re heading back and you can piss between the bars of the balcony!’

  ‘Alright, alright,’ Boquin laughed, raising his palms in surrender. ‘Lead the way.’

  She pointed towards the far end of the narrow, dead-end street, where an ornate wooden door stood alone, its carved frame glowing under lamps fixed on either side.

  ‘Know who lives there?’ she asked, her grin turning sly as they walked side by side.

  ‘Considering they’ve got their own private elevator and more privacy than Mingchi, I’d guess someone important,’ Boquin replied. ‘Mr Rich Northerner?’

  ‘Exactly! Every annui-cycle he brings his family down to Pik. Between visits, a butler comes to dust, waters the plants, then locks up. That’s how I found this place. I just followed a rather well-dressed man one day.’

  ‘Impressive. So, we’re just going to dance into some billionaire’s house and use his bathroom?’

  Liqui’s smile widened, her raised brows dared him to object.

  He shook his head. ‘You’ve outdone yourself. But one question – how are we getting in? Does the butler leave the key under the welcome mat or something?’

  ‘Follow me.’ Liqui tugged Boquin towards the right corner, where the corridor wall met the wall with the door. At the join, a narrow gap appeared, just wide enough for them to slip through sideways.

  ‘This way,’ she said, her thin figure disappearing through it with ease.

  Boquin hesitated for a moment before following, stepping in sideways. The rough brick walls closed in on both sides, scraping at his robes and dragging against its jagged, wet surface. A thin sludge of murky green water trickled through the moss-lined gutter they crept along. The air was thick and humid, his sleeves growing damp as the smell of mildew clung to the confined space.

  After a minute of shuffling, they emerged onto a ledge on the other side, with the wall still behind them but a sheer drop in front. Boquin instinctively drew in a sharp breath. From here, around the 78th level, the sprawling cityline of Pik stretched before him, a dead jungle of concrete towers stacked and layered to massive heights.

  Signage clinging to the sides of distant groundscrapers hung dormant, their usual glows extinguished. Massive screens on the faces of the buildings, once flashing with political messages, were empty, black rectangles. Almost every aspect of city life seemed starved.

  Boquin felt Liqui tug his left hand. ‘Come on! We’re going to be late!’

  Late? For what? Boquin thought as they continued inching along the ledge, holding his hands even tighter. The rough wall at his back suddenly dropped away, replaced by soft fabric brushing his shoulder. A heavy curtain. When Boquin pushed through the curtain, he felt the solid bar of a railing.

  A balcony.

  It was draped from the top, swaying faintly in the night air to conceal the Northerner’s rear balcony. Liqui turned toward it, lifting the bottom edge with one arm. The cloth rippled as she slipped beneath it jumped over the railing with small lift from Boquin, disappearing behind the curtain. A moment later, she raised it again for Boquin.

  ‘Careful,’ she murmured.

  Holding her hand, Boquin swung over the railing and joined her in the dark space behind the curtain.

  As Boquin released Liqui’s hand, he took a moment to absorb his surroundings. The sound of his footsteps revealed the platform to be a wooden deck. However, with no lights on and the heavy curtains blocking any outside glow, the space was shrouded in shadows. The balcony felt expansive – luxurious, as one might expect from a wealthy foreigner’s retreat – but the shadows obscured the details of its layout, leaving only the vague outlines of scattered objects.

  A soft rustling sound pulled his attention. He looked right to see Liqui by the curtains, gently tugging at its drawstrings. Slowly, the fabric parted in the middle and revealed Pik’s dark cityscape.

  Liqui stood there staring out at the dark horizon, as if waiting for something. Boquin followed her eyes, unsure what she expected.

  ‘The work cycle starts soon,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve always wanted to be here for this moment.’

  Suddenly Boquin’s communicator buzzed in his pocket, signalling the cycle’s commencement. The lanterns that had dimmed through the night flickered as the city’s daoyinbo’s drew breath for the cycle’s first daily prayer.

  Slowly, dots of light bloomed across Pik’s groundscrapers, its warm glow spilling across the wide balcony.

  This vantage point made his district’s cityline look brighter, almost ethereal. From these heights, the interwoven lanterns strung across the groundscrapers below formed a dazzling network, glowing like veins of liquid gold. Drawn by the sight, he approached the railing, gripped it firmly, and inhaled, letting the moment ground him. In the moment, he could only think about his gratitude for Liqui. Her bravery earlier, this astonishing view and breathtaking moment.

  ‘Hey, Liqui? Zifuan mentioned something earlier…’

  ‘What?’ she asked, stepping closer beside him.

  ‘He said you…’ Boquin’s words caught in his throat. Heat crept up the back of his neck, and he quickly shook his head.

  ‘… He said you’ve been working too hard at the tents. That you barely get any rest.’

  Liqui tilted her head. ‘That’s random. I thought you already knew that. I feel like Zifuan told you something else.’

  Boquin laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. ‘No, I did know you work hard out here. He just… reminded me you’re not superhuman. That’s all. Just don’t burn yourself out.’

  For a moment, neither of them spoke. Liqui’s eyes lingered on him, soft and searching, while he turned away, fixing his eyes on the lanterns below as they pulsed in gentle rhythm.

  ‘You’re sweet, Boquin,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Sweet? No, I’m… umami,’ he muttered, the word tumbling out awkwardly as he wished his heart would stop pounding in his chest.

  ‘Perfect then,’ Liqui replied, her grin turning sly. ‘Because what I really wanted to show you isn’t in front of us at all. It’s behind.’

  Boquin turned, his curiosity piqued, and froze in place. With the light now gently illuminating the deck, stretched before him were rows of potted plants, each one tall and mature, with skinny, bare branches bearing clusters of brown fruit. His eyes widened, struggling to process what he was seeing. Slowly, he approached the nearest pot, inspecting the fungal growth sprouting from a mix of decayed wood and compost within the ceramic pots.

  Gingerly, he touched one of the brown fruits. It was soft and squishy beneath his fingers. ‘These… these are mushroom caps,’ he murmured.

  ‘I know!’ Liqui exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. ‘They’re Northern Mukh Yi mushrooms! Can you believe it? Our rich foreign friend has his own private food farm!’

  ‘That’s… That’s amazing!’ Boquin said, his voice quickening with enthusiasm. ‘Imagine if we could bring this to the rest of East Kowloon – every home with its own garden, growing their own food. Liqui, we could tell Gan about this! Collect spores from these and teach people how to cultivate them!’ His energy surged as he moved from pot to pot, running his hands over the fully matured mushrooms, marvelling at their uniformity.

  ‘Try one, Bo.’

  Boquin glanced at Liqui, uncertain. He watched as she plucked a mushroom from its stalk and took a big, confident bite.

  He turned to the potted plant in front of him. His stomach growled audibly, a reminder of the perpetual gnawing hunger, even with the Pik Yangs doing their best to keep him fed. With careful fingers, he reached down and plucked a bulb from the stalk, its soft flesh yielding easily. He held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was earthy and damp, tinged with a faint, almost floral sweetness.

  Cautiously, he bit into the mushroom. The white fibres parted under his teeth, releasing cool, unflavoured juices that coated his tongue. The taste was deeply earthy, like biting into fresh bark, with an understated blandness. Its spongy, rubbery texture left little to savour, yet there was a faint umami hint – promises of the tastes it could release if cooked. It teased his hunger, urging him to take another bite. Within moments, he had finished the bulb.

  ‘I sneak up here when I need a snack,’ Liqui confessed with a sly smile. ‘I only take a few at a time; just enough so the butler doesn’t notice. But I’ve been trying to figure out how we could grow them ourselves. That’s where it gets tricky – these mushrooms thrive in the North, and whatever the butler does when he tends the mushrooms clearly makes a difference, because every attempt I’ve made to grow them in the same type of soil results in stunted growth. Maybe it’s the humid air of the East? Or a special fertiliser required for Mukh Yi mushrooms. I have no idea…’

  Boquin’s gaze lingered on Liqui as she spoke, her words flowing with an enthusiasm that lit up the deck around them. The warm glow of Pik’s city lights reflected off her face, softening her sharp features and bathing her in a golden hue. For the first time, he noticed how her large eyes sparkled, catching the twinkle of the lanterns strung across taller groundscrapers. Strands of her hair had slipped free from her hood, and now framed her face in gentle, almost delicate waves that swayed with her animated gestures.

  Her voice, though familiar, carried a melody he hadn’t heard before – a soothing cadence that wrapped around him, drawing him in with each word. Her lips, glinting faintly from the habit of wetting them as she spoke grabbed his attention in a way that made his stomach twist. Her delicate and pale hands moved instinctively, adjusting her robes and gesturing passionately, as if her body couldn’t contain the energy that came with her words.

  And that smile – wide and unguarded, radiating pride – made his chest ache with something unfamiliar. She wasn’t just happy about the mushrooms; she was proud of herself, of her discovery, of the hope she’d found in a city starved of it. Boquin realised with startling clarity that his own reaction – the candid awe in his own voice, the disbelief he’d shown with his eyes – had been the validation she’d sought as she dragged him here.

  It was her reward for her quiet, unseen effort, and she was glowing under it.

  For a moment, the world narrowed to just her. The pressures of finding Gajan, the weight of their cause – it all slipped away. She was beautiful, and not in the way Boquin had always known her to be. He had always acknowledged that Liqui was pretty, turning down advances from the other men within their cell frequently. But in the last few hours, something had changed between them. It wasn’t her features alone but the way they came alive in this moment, vibrant and full of passion and purpose. He felt a warmth bloom in his chest, spreading through his body. It wasn’t admiration or respect. It was something more, something he hadn’t expected.

  He was seeing Liqui for the first time, and it left him breathless.

  He forgot he needed to pee.

  Back in his small room, Boquin sat hunched at his desk, the lamp casting a small circle of light across his journal. The rest of the bunkroom lay in darkness, silent and close. His chest brimmed with restless emotion as his thoughts drifted. First to Gajan, who he prayed was safe. Then to Gan, remembering the disappointment on his face when he’d reported back, knowing Gajan’s disappearance meant reshaping every plan he was secretly working on. Boquin prayed those new plans would hold. His thoughts drifted next to Liqui, whose laughter and warmth lingered in him relentlessly since their assignment. And finally to his beloved Prophet Dong, whose promise of salvation for Kowloon he clung to for dear life. He wrote:

  “The rodent is born for the wall,

  Owning nothing but dreams of escaping his hole.

  Through bars where light seeps in,

  Others whisper: ‘Freedom’s a fight,

  Bare your fangs if you ever want to feel the Light.’

  He followed their call, their violent refrain,

  Spreading fire and inflicting more pain.

  And even after the silence fell,

  They could not find the keys to their cell.

  Until the rodent touched the door,

  It crept open, he dared recall:

  Was his cage ever locked at all?”