Chapter 1: Red-Braised Pork on a Leather Shoe

Lin Mo was carrying a plate upstairs when his heel caught the edge of the carpet. The plate tilted forward, and half a serving of braised pork splashed right onto Su Qiang’s leather shoes.

"Hey—my shoes!" Su Qiang shoved Lin Mo aside, stomping his foot. "If you're too clumsy to function, get the hell out of here. Stop being an eyesore!"

Lin Mo didn't say a word. He bent down to pick up the shards of the broken plate and wiped the meat off the shoes.

Su's Mother poked her head out from behind the sofa armrest, munching on sunflower seeds. "Alright, alright, Qiang. Don't waste your breath on a loser." She waved a hand at Lin Mo. "Go on, polish your uncle's shoes and pour him another drink. Do it on your knees."

Lin Mo stacked the broken pieces on the coffee table, dropped to one knee, and grabbed a rag to scrub Su Qiang’s shoes bit by bit.

Su Qing stood at the top of the stairs holding another dish, her knuckles white as she gripped the corner of her apron. She opened her mouth. "Mom, Mo..."

"Shut the hell up!" Su Qiang kicked Lin Mo in the knee. "Sis, your loser of a husband has been here for three years, and all he does is keep his head down and work. He doesn't even dare to speak. You've got the worst luck in eight lifetimes for marrying him."

Su Qing placed the food on the dining table without responding.

Su's Mother took the rag from Lin Mo's hand, wiped her fingers on the sofa, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm telling you, Qiang, the only reason your sister married him was because your uncle forced it. It's got nothing to do with us. This kid has been a mute since he was small—dull, brainless, and completely useless." She glanced at Lin Mo. "Enough. Now that you're done, get back to the kitchen. Get your uncle a new pair of slippers, too."

Lin Mo stood up, a bruise forming on his knee. He carried the broken plates to the kitchen, washed the rag, and folded it neatly back in its place.

Throughout the entire process, he didn't utter a single word.

Su's Mother sat back on the sofa, her rhythm of cracking seeds uninterrupted. "Qing'er, tell me, how much does your husband actually make a year?"

Su Qing sat across the table, staring down at her rice. "Mom, he..."

"Don't 'he, he, he' me!" Su's Mother slammed the table. "The only reason I accepted a live-in son-in-law was for the Su Family's reputation! It's been three years, and he hasn't brought in a single cent. All he's done is keep the floors shiny and the pots scrubbed. Tell me, Qing'er, isn't this marriage just pathetic?"

Su Qing put down her chopsticks, stood up, and walked over to Lin Mo. He was crouching on the floor, scrubbing the stovetop.

"Mo," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Lin Mo's hand paused for a moment, but he didn't look up. "It's fine."

Su Qing bit her lip, pulled out her wallet, took out two hundred-yuan bills, and pressed them into Lin Mo's hand. "Take this. Buy yourself some shoes. Your socks have three holes in them."

Lin Mo looked at the money, then at Su Qing's face. He pushed the money back. "Sis, I don't need it."

Su Qing's eyes reddened. She forced the money into his pocket, turned around, and retreated to her room.

Lin Mo swapped out Su Qiang's slippers and mopped the living room floor twice. Then, carrying the clean dishes back to the kitchen, he found the door locked.

Lin Mo knocked. "Qiang, the dishes are done. I'll leave them here."

Su Qiang was rummaging through cabinets behind the door, his voice muffled. "Why are you coming in? The kitchen is my turf."

"Mom told me to bring the dishes in."

"Just leave them there. You don't need to enter." Su Qiang paused. "Oh, right. Your mother wants me to give you a chore. The water heater in the basement is broken. Go down and check it. Don't come back up until it's fixed."

Lin Mo opened the basement door, and a wave of damp air hit him. The basement was a conversion of the Su Family's old house; the walls were stained with water and the floor was coated in a thin layer of grey dust. The water heater leaned against the wall, the "Haier" logo on the casing rusted and faded.

Lin Mo crouched down and opened the maintenance panel. The internal wiring was a mess—one wire was crossed, and a fuse had blown.

He stood up, grabbed a screwdriver from the toolbox, replaced the fuse, and corrected the wiring. Then, he turned the intake valve and ran a test.

The heater kicked in with a low hum, the indicator light flickered on, and hot water began to flow.

Lin Mo closed the panel, put his tools away, and wiped the grease off his hands.

Just as he was about to head up, he heard footsteps at the top of the stairs.

Su's Mother and Su Qiang were standing there. Su's Mother was holding a phone, the screen showing a news clip of a factory explosion—the scene was total chaos.

"You see this?" Su's Mother thrust the phone in Lin Mo's face. "A waste like you can't even fix a water heater. If something actually happened, could you even protect yourself?"

Lin Mo glanced at the explosion on the screen. His eyes flickered to the edge of the frame—the factory's containment wall. Concrete structure, estimated thickness less than forty centimeters.

"The heater is fixed," he said.

Su's Mother didn't hear him. "What did you say?"

"The heater is fixed," Lin Mo repeated. His voice wasn't loud, but it was steady.

Su's Mother blinked, seemingly caught off guard. Su Qiang pushed past her and peered at the heater. "Huh, it actually turned on?"

"Go check for yourself." Lin Mo had already turned to head up the stairs.

"Hey, wait!" Su's Mother blocked him. "You say you fixed it? Who was it that said it couldn't be fixed before? I thought you didn't even know how to use a wrench."

"The fuse was blown and a wire was reversed," Lin Mo said. "It just needed a quick fix."

Su's Mother looked him up and down, a hint of suspicion crossing her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by her usual contempt. "Fine, fine, stop showing off. You think you're something special for fixing a water heater? Get upstairs and change your uncle's slippers. We have guests tonight; don't embarrass the Su Family."

Lin Mo didn't say another word and headed upstairs.

At seven-thirty, the guests arrived.

It was an old colleague of Su's Mother's named Brother Zhou. He was in his fifties, wore gold-rimmed glasses, and carried two bottles of red wine. He started praising them the moment he walked in. "Oh, Sister Su, your son has really made it! A manager at a state-owned enterprise, right?"

"You bet!" Su's Mother straightened her back. "Qiang manages the whole workshop now. He makes over eight thousand a month."

Su Qiang, dressed in a suit with a cigarette between his fingers, paced the living room with an air of smug triumph.

"Brother Zhou," Su Qiang offered a cigarette, "I'll have to trouble you for your help with that partnership."

"Small potatoes," Brother Zhou waved his hand with a smile. "Don't worry about it, Qiang. I've got you covered."

The three of them chatted on the sofa. Su's Mother went to the kitchen to bring out the food and saw Lin Mo standing by the stove, his back to her.

"Lin Mo, go pour Brother Zhou a glass of water."

Lin Mo turned around, holding a bowl of freshly cooked soup. "Okay."

He carried the soup into the living room. Brother Zhou was mid-sentence when he noticed Lin Mo, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, is this your..."

"He's my son's live-in husband," Su's Mother interrupted, her tone laced with reluctance.

Brother Zhou looked at Lin Mo, his eyes scanning him. Lin Mo was wearing the work clothes provided by the Su Family, his hair was a bit long, and his face was expressionless.

"Young man," Brother Zhou suddenly spoke up. "How many years have you been here?"

"Three," Lin Mo said.

"Three years?" Brother Zhou smiled. "Then you must be very familiar with the layout of the Su Family house."

"Fairly."

"Then listen to this." Brother Zhou lowered his voice. "I have a project recently—a special materials warehouse. The protection level needs to meet National Grade 2 standards. But I've contacted three construction crews, and they all say it's impossible. Qiang mentioned the Su Family knows someone who can handle this."

Su Qiang chimed in. "Brother Zhou, I looked into it. It's not something just any one person can do; you need a professional team."

"That's different." Brother Zhou looked at Lin Mo. "I just wanted to ask, young man, are you familiar with how this works?"

Lin Mo was pouring the water. He paused, set the pitcher down, and said, "Brother Zhou, what are the specific metrics for your warehouse's protection requirements?"

Brother Zhou froze, clearly not expecting Lin Mo to engage. He glanced at Su's Mother, whose expression had turned subtle.

"Just... the standard," Brother Zhou said, unsure.

"National Grade 2 protection: concrete wall thickness no less than sixty centimeters, rebar diameter no less than twenty millimeters, spacing not exceeding one hundred and fifty millimeters," Lin Mo said flatly. "But based on the geological conditions I saw when I walked in, the groundwater level at your site is too high. You'll need waterproof reinforcement. If you build strictly to the standard, it'll likely sink."

The living room fell silent for two seconds.

Su's Mother's teacup hit the coffee table with a loud *clack*, splashing a few drops of tea. Su Qiang's hand, still holding the cigarette, froze in mid-air.

Brother Zhou's eyes widened, his gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses shifting completely. "You... how do you know that?"

Lin Mo placed the glass by Brother Zhou's hand and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Brother Zhou stood up. "That waterproof reinforcement you mentioned—can you explain the specific plan?"

"Brother Zhou," Lin Mo said, looking back from the doorway, "it's not that I won't help you, it's just that now isn't the time."

"What does that mean?"

Lin Mo didn't answer and closed the door.

In the living room, the three of them stared at each other.

Su Qiang stubbed out his cigarette. "Mom... who the hell is this kid?"

Su's Mother sat back on the sofa, her finger unconsciously rubbing the rim of her teacup, silent.

Brother Zhou took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with the hem of his shirt, put them back on, and stared at the direction Lin Mo had gone for a long time before slowly saying, "Sister Su, your son-in-law... is not simple."

At eleven p.m., Lin Mo sat on the edge of the bed in his room.

The room was at the end of the hallway, and the door had no lock. The sheets Su Qing had laid out for him were folded neatly. Under the pillow lay a pair of glasses—Su Qing's.

Lin Mo picked up the glasses and placed them on the nightstand. He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside was the backyard of the Su Family's old house. A locust tree stood there, the moonlight casting a pale, ghostly light over the yard. In the distance, the city lights were dense, like a sea of stars.

Three years.

The day he married into the Su Family was a summer three years ago. Su Qing had been wearing a white wedding dress, standing before Su's Mother and Su Qiang, her makeup ruined by tears. Su's Mother had said, "If you dare cross me, don't blame me for being ruthless." Su Qiang had said, "Brother-in-law, the Su Family doesn't need another man. If you can't behave, get lost."

He hadn't said a word.

He didn't say he was a retired nuclear weapons protection expert. He didn't say he'd served in the military for twelve years. He didn't say that during one nuclear test, he had stayed alone in a command center one hundred and twenty meters underground for sixty-seven days.

He said nothing.

Because three years ago, his superiors had given him an order: disappear, blend into the civilian population, and wait for the call.

He didn't know when the call would come. He only knew that until it did, he was nobody.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Lin Mo opened it to find Su Qing. She was in her pajamas, her hair loose, her eyes red.

"Mo," she stood in the doorway, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry. Mom, she..."

"I know."

"Today... those things you said to Brother Zhou," Su Qing's tears began to fall. "Were you just pretending?"

Lin Mo looked at her, his gaze calm. "Sis, there are some things I can't talk about yet."

"I know," Su Qing wiped her tears. "I believe you."

She turned to leave, then stopped and looked back. "Mo, if there ever comes a day where you've had enough, just leave. Don't worry about us."

Lin Mo stood in the doorway, silent.

Su Qing left. Her footsteps faded slowly down the hallway, disappearing at the stairs.

Lin Mo closed the door and returned to the window.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand. He picked it up to find an encrypted text. The sender was a string of numbers with no name.

The message contained only one line:

"Target confirmed. Codename 'Rock'. Codename 'Rock', please confirm identity."

Lin Mo stared at the screen, his finger hovering over the keyboard for three seconds.

Then, he locked the screen and placed the phone back on the nightstand.

He stood by the window, watching the locust tree and the moonlight.

Three years.