Chapter 18

Shadow-A was a bit frustrated because he had just finished training the newly recruited Shadows early in the morning and was about to take a break and relax when he received a message from Shadow-1 Graves, summoning him immediately.

Shadow-1: [Find a way to come and drive my motorcycle away. No helicopters or transport vehicles allowed. The route you take must not overlap with the one I planned.]

Opening the map sent by Shadow-1 Graves, Shadow-A realized it was a map of the Shadow base.

He understood the instruction literally, but why did it feel so mysterious and unclear?

Shadow-A raised his right hand, bent his index finger, and gently hooked his nose. The truth was clear—he, Shadow-A, needed to unravel this fog.

First, Shadow-1 said, “Find a way to come and drive my motorcycle away.” Everyone knew Shadow-1 liked riding motorcycles. But why was he asking Shadow-A to come and take his motorcycle? How was Shadow-1 supposed to get back?

There was no way Shadow-1 was nostalgically running back on foot like a rookie! After all, Philip Graves, Shadow-1, never wasted time on pointless things.

Shadow-A analyzed further: “No helicopters or transport vehicles allowed” meant the motorcycle must be functional. While a transport vehicle was okay, using a helicopter to airlift the motorcycle would cause a loud racket.

Combined with “the route must not overlap with the one I planned,” Shadow-1, who had personally established the entire Shadow organization—including the choice of base and surrounding environment after careful consideration—intended for the route to avoid his own path.

Shadow-A, standing on a fully charged hoverboard, sped out of the base and glanced at the time: 10:20 a.m. Shadow-1 was not in his office at this hour.

Here came the answer—

Shadow-1 had ridden his motorcycle into the forest at dawn for morning exercise and encountered someone or something captivating along the way.

Shadow-A deduced it was a person because Shadow-1 asked him to take the motorcycle back. That person must have had transportation to give Shadow-1 a ride home.

“No helicopters or transport vehicles” plus “avoid my planned route” suggested Shadow-1 didn’t want the other party to know he came by motorcycle; he even wanted that person to ferry him back...

The answer was simple—Shadow-1 had met YN in the forest.

Shadow-A: [Hey guys! Shadow-1 and YN are on a date in the forest.]

Shadow-B: [?]

Shadow-9527: [Local time in America is 10:25 a.m. Shadow-1 is usually either in the armory or inspecting gunboats at this time. There’s no way he’d be leisurely wandering in the forest, let alone on a date—unless it’s with YN.]

Shadow-O: [Shadow-1 and YN really are on a date in the forest. I was leading a group of new Shadows in wilderness survival training, hiding in the bushes, when I saw YN driving her little yellow duck-themed sweeper, happily ferrying Shadow-1 along the forest road.]

Indeed, Shadow-A was a genius detective—every guess hit the mark, perfectly reading Shadow-1’s intentions.

Shadow-B: [No pictures, no proof.]

Shadow-O: [What pictures do you need? I saw it with my own eyes! Shadow-1 flirtatiously handed YN a soda, looking utterly shameless. His service was top-notch!]

Shadow-9527: [Wait, why did you leave so soon, O?]

Shadow-O: [Caught a 4 a.m. flight, landed, and immediately started training new Shadows. Does that sound like a special forces schedule or what?]

·

YN never expected to run into Graves, nor to ride along with him in her newly customized little yellow duck sweeper along a forest road.

It was a novel and charming experience.

Graves even took over controlling the sprayer after seeing YN water the wildflowers and grass by the roadside.

The forest road was wide; YN guessed many vehicles must pass through here regularly. But now, nearing noon, apart from her little yellow duck sweeper, there wasn’t a single other vehicle. It was truly peculiar.

The weather was perfect—blue sky, white clouds, with only her sweeper winding along the slightly curving road.

Graves brought an opened orange soda to YN’s lips.

YN sipped through the straw, grateful she had brought an extra bottle; otherwise, how could she share it with her boss?

Graves didn’t hold back either: he took out some Oreo cookies YN had prepared from her little yellow duck backpack, tore open the package, wiped his hands with a wet wipe, and then offered the first cookie to YN.

Since YN had to drive, she handed her backpack to Graves for safekeeping.

Graves held the cookie perfectly within reach of YN’s mouth.

She didn’t dare look at Graves, nor did she expect him to be so attentive.

He looked less like a boss, more like a servant.

Seeing YN sitting upright, eyes fixed on the road without opening her mouth to bite the Oreo, Graves asked, “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

YN, distracted by the nutcracker wooden soldiers trailing them, could only open her mouth slightly to bite the cookie Graves held.

Only after confirming YN had bitten the cookie did Graves pull his hand away.

YN felt a bit flustered. Not only had Graves accompanied her on a forest walk, but he also helped her pick up a large number of chestnuts.

It started when YN accidentally stepped on a fuzzy yellow-green spiky object on the ground and quickly lifted her foot, fearing she had stepped on a hedgehog.

As she bent down to investigate, she noticed the fuzzy ball had a split.

Holding her breath, YN poked the brown wound on the yellow-green ball and realized it was a chestnut.

Feeling like she’d discovered treasure, YN looked around at the ground covered with leaves and those fuzzy balls—and exclaimed—

Chestnuts, so many chestnuts! If she collected them all, it would be enough for Ms. Emma to bake lots of maple chestnut toast!

Graves had been holding YN’s hand as they walked the uneven path, but when YN spotted the fuzzy yellow-green balls and excitedly pulled her hand free.

Her movement was swift; Graves tried to grab her hand again but only caught air.

Graves felt a bit disappointed—finally getting the chance to hold YN’s hand, only for her to be more excited than Columbus discovering the New World, leaving him no time to react.

Watching YN crouched in her red outdoor jacket and boots picking up chestnuts, Graves softened and joined her on the ground.

“Boss, these are chestnuts! So many chestnuts!”

YN carefully peeled the chestnuts from their spiky husks and stuffed them into the bag she had brought.

Graves had noticed from the start that YN wore a red outdoor jacket and tall red boots, clearly prepared for the forest.

But he didn’t think YN came to the forest on the weekend just to “bump into” him.

Just by her joyful reaction to the chestnuts, Graves knew they had just crossed paths by chance.

YN’s cheerful announcement that they were chestnuts sounded so warm and intimate, as if she’d found something extraordinary. Even the word “boss” sounded unmistakably affectionate.

When would she turn “boss” into a more familiar “Graves,” and eventually, from “Graves” to the intimate “Philip”?

Graves squatted, gently placing his hand on YN’s hooded head. “I’ll help you pick, my cute Little Red Riding Hood.”

YN recalled the story of Little Red Riding Hood. The sweet girl was swallowed by the evil wolf in the forest.

“I’m ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, so you must be the evil ‘Big Bad Wolf’,” YN teased with a giggle, shifting forward a couple of steps.

Her point wasn’t the “Little Red Riding Hood” but that she had finally found a way to playfully call Graves the Big Bad Wolf.

“Well.”

Graves accepted the metaphor with good humor, recalling his previous small mischiefs toward YN.

“You go pick over there—there are plenty. Don’t just stay around me,” YN was naturally less reserved on a non-working day and gently shooed the clingy Graves away.

Another reason was that YN found her boss somewhat... clingy? And a bit... noisy.

Shortly after their unexpected meeting, as they strolled through the forest, Graves began chattering like a wind-up toy bird, talking incessantly in her ear. When the wind-up stopped, so did he. When tightened again, he wouldn’t stop talking.

At first, Graves said something, YN replied, and they warmed up slowly.

As their “adventure” went on, YN, captivated by nature, felt Graves’s constant chatter was like a broken wind-up bird, wound too tight before breaking, endlessly chirping in her ear.

It wasn’t that YN disliked his voice—in fact, his words were very gentle. If she weren’t so absorbed in the scenery, she would have loved chatting over butter cookies and hot cocoa.

But now, all she wanted was to unwind his spring and make him stop talking.

Also, when they crossed a creek, he held her hand and never let go...

Seeing his cheerful mood, YN didn’t want to spoil it, so she let him keep talking and holding her hand.

Despite the ground being covered with yellow-green husks, Graves insisted on picking the ones near her. There were far more on the other side, and if they split up, they could collect them all much faster.

Graves kept hovering near YN, and she, wanting to focus quietly on gathering chestnuts, found his constant talking distracting.

He’d say he found an enormous chestnut and call her over; then he’d explain why a chestnut looked different—his was heart-shaped. He just kept drawing her attention away.

Wanting to concentrate, YN glanced at the chestnut Graves hid in his hand. She’d already been lured three times.

This time, her look seemed to say, “Lie to me again, and I’ll really ignore you.”

Graves quickly reassured her: “I’m not lying. I would never lie to you.”