At five in the morning, on the eastern side of the Qingyang Bridge, an abandoned bus sat on the riverbank overgrown with weeds. Its wheelless frame had surrendered to rust, graffiti claiming both interior and exterior. Local children had declared it their secret base, and young couples occasionally sought refuge in its shelter.0

Ke Yo and Vermilion Bird sat inside, looking out at the quiet dark gray river and the rising city across. Above them was the bridge. Whenever a heavy truck sped through, rumbles would accompany the orange light sneaking through the bus windows, flitting across their faces.0

An hour earlier, Vermilion Bird had spirited Ke Yo away with Unreachable. They'd emerged downtown, where Ke Yo hailed a taxi unhurriedly.0

The driver asked...0