Spy Wars: Strong Agents Who Are Ruthless and Talk Little

When he pushed open the door, he immediately noticed something was missing from the room. The documents on the desk were neatly stacked, the chairs were in their original positions, and nothing seemed out of place. But Su Ming's intuition told him something was wrong.

"Mr. Zheng?" He called out tentatively, his voice not loud but echoing in the room. No one responded.

Su Ming's brow furrowed even deeper. He quickly glanced around and discovered that Zheng Yaoxian's coat was missing, as was the book he often read on the table. More importantly, the black suitcase Zheng Yaoxian usually kept in the corner was also missing.

A wave of unease washed over Su Ming. He tried to calm himself and began examining every detail of the room. He opened a drawer; the items inside were still neatly arranged, but a few sheets of paper Zheng Yaoxian had used to write down his plans were missing. He pushed open the bedroom door; the bed was made as if no one had ever slept in it.

"He's gone?" Su Ming whispered to himself, with a hint of doubt and confusion in his tone.

Zheng Yaoxian had never left without a reason, especially not when the mission was still unfinished. Every move he made had a clear plan and reason, and now, his disappearance seemed too sudden. Several possibilities flashed through Su Ming's mind: Had he been captured by the enemy? Had he discovered some danger and evacuated early? Or was this just a deliberate test?

"But why didn't he say anything?" Su Ming's emotions grew complicated, with both concern for Zheng Yaoxian's safety and a lingering resentment at being left behind. He knew that in the world of espionage, trust was a luxury, but Zheng Yaoxian was more than just a mentor; he was a beacon, his only hope for navigating the darkness.

Su Ming sat in a chair, trying to clear his mind. He closed his eyes and recalled everything that had happened in the past few days. Had Zheng Yaoxian shown any signs of abnormality? Any hints? Every word, every movement, even every look he gave might hold a message.

"Last night, he seemed to glance at me a little more." Su Ming suddenly remembered that when Zheng Yaoxian spoke to him yesterday, there was a hint of complex emotion in his eyes that was not usually there. It was a look similar to farewell, but Su Ming didn't think much of it at the time.

"Did he know he was leaving?" Su Ming's heart sank, but he quickly dismissed the idea. If Zheng Yaoxian had truly planned to leave, he would have left some clues behind, rather than disappearing so cleanly as he did now.

"A clue... He must have left something behind." Su Ming's eyes swept across the room again. He began to carefully examine every corner, flipping through every book on the shelf, even lifting the carpet in the corner. However, everything in the room seemed too normal, nothing worth noting.

Just as he was about to give up, his eyes fell on the teacup on the table. The tea in the cup was still steaming, indicating that Zheng Yaoxian had not been away for long. Su Ming picked up the cup and stared at the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup in a daze. Suddenly, he noticed a line of tiny words on the bottom of the cup.

He poured out the tea and wiped off the remaining tea leaves with his fingers. Sure enough, there was a string of numbers written in very fine marks on the bottom of the cup.

"What is this?" Su Ming muttered softly, memorizing the string of numbers. It looked like a password, but it didn't look like the encryption method Zheng Yaoxian usually used.

Su Ming took a deep breath and put the teacup back in its place. His mind was already racing. This string of numbers must be the clue Zheng Yaoxian had left him, but to decipher it, he clearly needed more information.

He walked to the window and opened the curtains. The street was still quiet, but his eyes caught a glimpse of a black car parked not far away. The lights inside the car were slightly on, and a figure could be vaguely seen.

"Someone's watching this place." Su Ming's heart suddenly jumped into his throat. He quickly closed the curtains, returned to the table, wrote the string of numbers on a piece of paper, and then hid the note under the sole of his shoe.

"I can't stay here any longer." He made a quick decision. Zheng Yaoxian's disappearance and the appearance of this car were definitely not a coincidence. He had to find a safe place as soon as possible and at the same time unravel the mystery of the string of numbers.

Su Ming changed into a dark coat and put on his hat. He checked his weapons and supplies, then quietly opened the door and walked into the night. His steps were light and steady, each one carefully chosen to make as little noise as possible.

He avoided the main roads, choosing instead to walk down several hidden alleyways. Those narrow lanes were filled with trash cans and discarded debris, and the air was thick with the smell of decay, but Su Ming paid no attention. His eyes scanned his surroundings vigilantly, his ears picking up every subtle sound.

"Mr. Zheng, where have you been?" Su Ming's heart was filled with questions and anxiety. He knew he had to find the answer as soon as possible, because every minute of delay would bring him closer to danger.

After walking for about twenty minutes, Su Ming finally arrived at an abandoned warehouse. He pushed the door open and confirmed that there was nothing unusual inside before closing it and boarding up all the windows.

He lit a small oil lamp, sat on the ground, took out the note, and stared at the string of numbers again. These numbers seemed to be arranged in a random pattern, but Su Ming knew that Zheng Yaoxian would never leave behind a string of meaningless things.

"Is this a code, or some kind of coordinates?" Su Ming muttered to himself, countless possibilities swirling in his mind. His fingers tapped lightly on the paper, trying to find a pattern.

As time passed, the light from the oil lamp grew dimmer, but Su Ming's gaze never left the note. His mind kept running through various decryption methods, as if the entire world was reduced to this string of numbers.

Su Ming sat in a corner of the warehouse, clutching the slip of paper with the numbers on it tightly in his hand, his gaze somewhat vacant. His breathing was slightly rapid, and his heart was beating nervously in his chest. The oil lamp in the warehouse emitted a faint glow, the wick occasionally flickering, casting a swaying shadow on the wall, like a monster ready to pounce at any moment.

He was afraid. Although he tried his best to hide this emotion, the fear in his heart surged like a tide, gradually swallowing up his originally calm thoughts.

"Where is Mr. Zheng?" The question echoed over and over in his mind, like an unsolvable knot. Zheng Yaoxian's sudden disappearance was like a taut string being quietly cut, and the entire situation instantly spiraled out of control. This wasn't the first time Su Ming had faced danger, but this time, he felt a deep sense of isolation.