I’ve been undercover alongside a drug lord for three years.

During the final operation, carrying evidence, I was arranged by my captain to evacuate early while the other undercover agents who had contacted me took care of the wrap-up.

Everything went smoothly until, at the very last moment of my evacuation, the drug lord became suspicious.

01

He noticed quicker than any of us anticipated.

Those comrades still handling the wrap-up couldn’t retreat in time and were captured by him.

The drug lord, repeatedly provoking the police, demanded an immediate exchange for me, threatening to kill one every five minutes until all were dead.

Back at the bureau, I hadn’t even rested properly when I received a message.

My superior suggested we devise a long-term rescue plan, but I couldn’t wait.

I know Carmen; that psychopath would definitely do it, especially now that he’s cornered and likely to act desperately.

A desperate fugitive at the end of his rope wouldn’t care about the lives of a few police officers.

Those comrades were there because of me.

No matter from which angle, I had to rescue them.

I thought I would finally make it for his birthday this year, but once again, I missed it.

I never imagined meeting Edward in such a manner.

Naked, I was placed on a stage with my boyfriend Edward, clad in protective gear, standing beside the platform.

Edward’s pale, slender hands skillfully wielded a scalpel, cutting open my abdomen with the sharp blade to retrieve a black chip wrapped in a special material from my stomach.

I felt a sense of relief seeing that black chip.

It was Edward who had informed me about the special material that wouldn’t dissolve in stomach acid.

I was fortunate that the drug lord’s headquarters had access to such material.

After successfully extracting the chip, Edward stitched up my abdomen, removed his mask, and carefully wiped down my body with a towel.

The towel eventually paused at my face, wiping it over and over, two hot tears falling onto my face.

The criminal evidence against Carmen was carried inside me.

To retrieve the chip, he had me captured and subjected me to brutal torture.

Now, not a single piece of my skin was intact.

After venting his anger, he hung me from a crane at a construction site.

02

Edward handed the chip to my superior, who patted his shoulder and sighed as if everything was understood without words.

With the evidence from the chip, the police officially launched an arrest operation against Carmen, capturing him swiftly as justice left no stone unturned.

I followed Edward back to his home, the sweet haven he had prepared for us.

The night before I was to depart on my mission, he held me close and promised that we would marry upon my safe return.

The curtains, furniture, and all the items in the house were chosen together by us.

He sat on the sofa, sobbing as he looked at our photographs.

I approached and hugged him, but it seemed he couldn’t feel my presence.

Helplessly, I shook my head.

Edward, the crybaby, had been seen crying many times during this period.

I never realized before how easily he cried.

Edward hadn’t shaved for several days, and the unkempt look was not how I preferred him.

He was usually so clean, and now his disheveled appearance almost made me disdain him.

The wind blew, and Edward, who hadn’t closed the window, watched as my favorite plant was knocked over.

The scruffy Edward finally moved, standing up to close the still-swaying window.

“Leona, is that you? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be like this.”

Dear Edward, you finally sensed my presence.

“You’re already dead, how can it be you? But I’d rather believe you’re still here, always here.”

Edward, a forensic scientist and an atheist, was now grappling with the belief in spirits.

He knelt down and slowly began to clean up the contents of the broken flower pot, his tears falling onto the flowers.

And he cried again, crybaby Edward.

He used to tease me for being a crybaby, but now he was the real crybaby, a workaholic hiding at home from his job.

Edward and I grew up together.

When I was in the first year of high school, my parents divorced, and I was awarded to my father, while my mother left without looking back with her new love.

I hid in a corner downstairs crying, a spot I used to retreat to whenever my parents argued.

Edward, skillfully holding my favorite lollipop, came to find me.

“Crybaby, why are you crying again? Here’s your favorite lollipop, today, you can have a whole one.”

I had cavities and easily got toothaches, so I wasn’t allowed sweets at home.

But Edward said it was a method of pain diversion; if my teeth hurt, my heart wouldn’t, and eating sweets would improve my mood.

At that time, in his senior year, Edward aspired to be a forensic scientist.

He was outstanding, and I knew he would achieve whatever he set out to do.

03

Edward’s phone rang.

“I understand.”

After the call, he hastily tidied up, put on the dark coat I had bought for him, and headed out.

Edward went to the anti-drug team where I had been.

The captain handed him an envelope.

“This is from her,” the captain said, patting Edward on the shoulder.

“I want to see Carmen,” Edward said, squeezing the envelope.

“Edward, I understand how you feel, but you know. However, I will apply to the higher-ups,” the captain sighed.

Edward was an excellent forensic scientist, and the captain didn’t want to lose such a valuable colleague over a scumbag.

“Alright, I’ll wait.”

Edward left the team, driving aimlessly to the riverbank.

I followed him, worried he might do something foolish, hovering behind him while avoiding the glaring lights.

He opened the envelope, and a medal fell out.

It was the one I received after my first successful operation, a significant token for me.

I had said at the time, “I don’t want this. I’ll give it to my future husband. It’s my first award.”

He had replied, “Alright, then I must marry you soon. Such a beautiful medal, I want to have it as soon as possible.”

I had long considered him my husband, and receiving this medal meant I had married him in spirit.

I hoped that, with my love, he would live on better.

I had imagined wearing a white wedding dress, my father holding my hand and giving me to Edward.

This beautiful scene had supported me through the dark and difficult days of my undercover mission.

When I returned to the drug lord with the resolve to die, I knew it was just a dream.

Edward read the letter and, for some reason, began to cry again.

This crybaby, did I write something too sentimental?

Looking at the dark river, he sobbed, his slender fingers clutching the letter tightly, whispering to the river, “Leona, please come back, stay with me, don’t leave me.”

I watched him collapse, trembling and kneeling in pain.

I wanted to comfort him, to hold him tight, but I knew there was nothing I could do; he couldn’t see me.

I wanted to stay by your side too, Edward, but I’m dead.

I didn’t survive the excruciating pain of being cut to the bone, and I didn’t make it back to see you.

I can’t forget our days and nights together, every moment with you, the Edward who was so good to me.

I am unwilling, but what can my unwillingness achieve? I’m dead, and we’re separated by life and death.

Edward, as wonderful as you are, will eventually become someone else’s husband.

Time is the best healer, and one day, you’ll forget about me.

In the near future, someone else will be there to accompany you, to spend the rest of your life with you.

You’ll have children, maybe a daughter or a son, who will resemble Edward, my beloved Edward.

You will live a happy life, while I, Leona, will no longer be part of it.

04
Before the mission, due to the unpredictability of life, our team had a tradition of writing farewell letters to avoid leaving nothing for our families in case something happened to us.

The day before departure, we each wrote our letters.

I wrote mine seriously, telling the captain to give it to Edward if I died.

The captain knocked on my head, saying, “Spit, spit, spit, don’t say such unlucky things.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

The captain flicked my forehead again, making me wince in pain.

I didn’t write much in the letter, as lengthy farewells could be a burden.

I only wrote: “Edward, if I die heroically, you must forget me, live well, promise me you’ll be happy. I love you.”

I knew Edward would listen to me.

Though it would be hard to move on from so many years of love, I believed forgetting me was just a matter of time.

Accepting the mission to infiltrate the drug cartel, Carmen wasn’t the leader yet.

My goal was to get close to the then leader.

High risk meant high reward; the information I could gather from the leader would be far more valuable than from any small fry.

It was a high-risk, quick-return operation.

Things didn’t go as planned.

Somehow, I caught Carmen’s attention.

He treated me differently, and I could feel it.

His special treatment helped me, a new member, quickly adapt to the den of wolves.

The then leader noticed Carmen’s special treatment of me and handed me over to him.

I had prepared for anything, including sacrificing myself.

Surprisingly, Carmen didn’t touch me.

He stayed in my room every night, only to sleep, which genuinely surprised me.

But I was clear-headed.

Carmen, a cartel member, was not a good person.

I saw him chop off a traitor’s finger and laughingly shove it into the man’s mouth.

Carmen was a lion; I knew he wasn’t content being the leader’s subordinate.

He wanted to seize power.

Carmen never hid his actions from me.

As Carmen’s woman, I collected a lot of evidence, organizing it and hiding it carefully, waiting until I had enough to strike a fatal blow to the cartel.

Halfway through my evidence collection, Carmen seized power, killing the then leader and taking his place.

I became known as the “big sister-in-law” among the cartel members.

At the celebration banquet, Carmen drank a lot and was heavily intoxicated.

I helped him back to our room.

His eyes were blurred, one arm around my waist, the other pinching my face, saying, “Little police officer, don’t you remember me at all?”

His words shocked me, leaving me at a loss.

When did I get exposed? Quickly, I steadied myself.

Or was Carmen just testing me?

I grabbed his collar, pressed against him, and said in a voice that disgusted even myself, “Ah Zhao, what are you talking about? How could I be a police officer?”

The identity the team gave me was that of a drug dealer’s daughter, imprisoned after her father’s arrest, with no relatives to care for her, leading her astray into the cartel.

Carmen might be bluffing; I had to stay calm.