Slay

The cigarette flickered in the dark night while the footsteps in the alley were light and rhythmic. 

Half a minute later, the footsteps stopped. Under the moon, in the cold wind, Tang Ling's black mantle fluttered, revealing half of his serene face.

The man smoking the cigarette stood up. Even though he wanted to stay calm, his excitement got the best of him. His steady hands started to shake. Nonetheless, he was able to fiddle skillfully with his butterfly knife despite the excitement, so he put it away. 'Damn it. Why is my throat so dry? Why can't I say anything? I've seen this face on the communication device, yet when he's right in front of me, my excitement gets the best of me!'

"Uncle Su Yao, that isn't you, is it?" Tang Ling said as he removed his hood and looked at the unfamiliar man, a little surprised.