The Return of the God Level Assassin

1192 YUNYUE VS FENGHUANG (XXVII)

LUO YAN stepped onto the observation deck. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, brightening the empty space. The chairs and tables were neatly arranged, but there wasn't a single person around. It was understandable, given the sudden announcement earlier about the train not stopping, and then the discovery of the dead woman's body.

He sat on one of the empty seats, eyes drifting to the window as he waited for Su Yuqi's message. Once she confirmed that the old man was nearing the observation deck, it would be time to start his act. Thankfully, he and Shen Ji Yun had been closer to this part of the train when they got Su Yuqi's update. That gave him just enough time to get here ahead of the old man.

A new message then popped up in the team channel, drawing his attention.

Morganite: [The old man just passed through the dining car. He's heading your way. Shouldn't be long now.]

He began his act the moment Su Yuqi's message popped up. He leaned forward in his seat, burying his face in his hands as if trying to stifle quiet sobs. His shoulders shook slightly, creating the illusion of someone deeply upset. He made sure every detail—from his uneven breathing to the muffled sound of crying—looked convincing. Tilting his head just enough, he ensured anyone entering the observation deck would notice him. After a minute or two, the sound of the door sliding open caught Luo Yan's attention. He didn't look up, keeping his face buried in his hands, but his ears caught the distinct tap of a cane against the floor, followed by slow, deliberate footsteps. The old man had arrived.

The footsteps halted beside him, and a curious voice asked from above. "Young lady, why are you sitting here all alone, crying?"

Luo Yan jolted upright, his body tense as he quickly wiped at his eyes, pretending to be startled. He looked up, his wide, frightened gaze landing on the old man standing over him. His lips trembled slightly, as if struggling to form words, before he stammered, "I-I'm sorry… I didn't mean to bother anyone." He lowered his head quickly, clutching at the edge of his dress as if trying to shrink away, his voice trembling with an apologetic tone. "I shouldn't be here… I'll leave if you want me to, sir."

The old man let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he lowered himself onto the seat opposite Luo Yan. Resting both hands on the top of his cane, he regarded Luo Yan with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "M-My mother got hurt last night," he said, his voice small and trembling. "She won't wake up, and they said she's just resting, but… but I'm scared she's not okay." He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, his head tilting down. "I didn't wanna cry next to her, so I came here. But… maybe I shouldn't have left." He added a shaky breath, keeping up the act of a worried, helpless child.

Luo Yan noticed the flicker of curiosity in the old man's eyes. He lowered his gaze, keeping his act of nervousness intact, knowing he had successfully caught the old man's attention.

The old man tapped his cane lightly on the floor, the rhythm slow and deliberate, as if to match the pace of his thoughts. He gave Luo Yan a sharp, knowing look, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "You know," he began, his tone casual but with an edge of amusement, "you remind me of someone. A woman I once had the pleasure—and misfortune—of crossing paths with. She, too, was quite skilled at playing a part. Quite convincing, really. At least to those who weren't paying attention." Luo Yan stiffened slightly. The old man's eyes twinkled with mischief, as though he could see right through him. "She was remarkable," he continued, his cane tapping again as if emphasizing his words. "Always composed, always one step ahead. She could charm her way out of the most precarious situations with nothing more than a well-placed tear or a trembling lip." He chuckled softly, the sound carrying a strange mix of admiration and amusement. "I must admit, it's rare to see someone with that same… gift. Even rarer in one so young." Luo Yan's fingers twitched slightly in his lap, but he kept his expression nervous and unsure, careful not to let his act slip. The old man leaned forward, resting his hands on the top of his cane. "Of course," he said, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel like he was sharing a secret, "it takes one to notice one. And I do notice, my dear. More than most." Luo Yan blinked up at him, feigning confusion, but his mind was racing. The way the old man spoke—it was steady, precise, no longer carrying the eccentric tone he had used earlier. The change was subtle, but it was there. Was he saying that he could tell Luo Yan was acting? "Ah, forgive me," the old man said, leaning back with a light chuckle. "An old habit of mine—comparing people to puzzles I've solved in the past. Though I suppose it's not entirely fair to call her a puzzle. She was more of a masterpiece. One that even I couldn't quite take apart." Luo Yan's eyes widened slightly. The woman! While he wasn't deeply familiar with the full story of Sherlock Holmes, he did remember watching that one movie with Robert Downey Jr. There had been a woman in it, played by Rachel McAdams. Could she be the woman this old man was talking about?

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