Special Forces Medic-Chapter 666 - 628 Tang Xiaoxia’s Home

Huating Villa is a serene villa district, characterized by small-scale townhouses aimed at middle-income professionals for purchase or rent, primarily consisting of single or two-bedroom styles, favored by many.

Tang Xiaoxia's husband immigrated to New York after their daughter graduated from elementary school, where he practiced Chinese medicine with a stable income. Tang Xiaoxia stayed alone in the country, planning to struggle a few more years before joining him, but didn't expect to become a pawn in someone else's game.

Upon reaching the second-floor residential area, Xiao Lin entered easily after performing a fingerprint scan on the door handle, having obtained Tang Xiaoxia's fingerprints from a computer database. The security system here is quite decent.

Tang Xiaoxia's villa was comfortably decorated without much expense as it was a second-floor residence with an open balcony adorned with various green plants. A sun umbrella was planted in a wooden table, the chairs accumulating dust.

Xiao Lin stood under the sunshade, glancing around. Compared to other buildings, this one was a story lower, and from this perspective, the best observation angle was from an upper left window. He didn't step out from under the sun umbrella but retreated into the room, gently closing the door back to the balcony.

Without any lights in the room, Xiao Lin knelt on one knee on the sofa beside the door, looking towards the window. There was nothing unusual about it; he quietly stared in that direction, waiting for an opportunity.

In the span of five minutes, a faint glow flashed before his eyes in the darkness—an auto camera's exposure in the dark, something hard to notice when lights are on at home.

Xiao Lin quietly retreated from the right side. This area was where Tang Xiaoxia would entertain guests; with just the two-story one-bedroom suite, the upstairs was easily distinguished as the bedroom, and downstairs the living room for guests. The storage space under the stairs was quite exquisite, showing that Tang Xiaoxia had hired a famous designer for her villa's renovation.

The glass-partitioned staircase featured small cool lights, providing warm highlights along the dark path—environmentally friendly and illuminating. Xiao Lin liked such thoughtful design features, thinking he should ask Tang Xiaoxia about the designer; he hoped one day his home with Xia Xue would be similarly warm and unique.

There's also a small reception area on the second floor, much more laid-back compared to downstairs. A hollow square was thickly padded with cushions and soft blankets; a whole wall served as a bookshelf with lights and a small sound system, an open library. Xiao Lin didn't linger and stealthily entered the bedroom.

"Huh?" Xiao Lin uttered in confusion at the messy room. Compared to downstairs' tidiness, this place seemed ransacked—the curtains were drawn. He half-crouched on the floor, fumbling along the wall.

This bedroom's elevation still left it short of the window view, though a camera's height could capture the inside environment completely. Xiao Lin dared not take risks; two cameras could leave no blind spots above and below.

The ground was strewn with toppled books and small items. Xiao Lin simulated the scene; someone had intruded here and rummaged through. Almost every corner of the bedroom hadn't been overlooked—even the bed was pulled out. What were they looking for?

Compared to the downstairs living room, it was a stark contrast. This difference made Xiao Lin sure there could be cameras aimed at the other side, and those intruders directly stormed up here knowing what they sought was in the bedroom. Was he too late?

Leaning against the wall, Xiao Lin slowly recalled his steps. If he were Tang Xiaoxia, a chain smoker, where would he place the packs of cigarettes she bought?

In a handy place, would it directly return to the master bedroom? Certainly, some would be placed here, scattered around anywhere, for easy access.

But in such a neat home, Tang Xiaoxia wouldn't leave things lying around casually, methodically, so the most likely place to store cigarettes would be the living room. Those people upstairs might not be looking for the same item he was.

The person surveilling Tang Xiaoxia was Wang Zhanting, so cigarettes weren't his goal. This thought brought Xiao Lin back to his original spot, leaving the door slightly ajar at his entry angle.

He first entered the kitchen, a place where women like to stash their desired foods. The dining table held an assortment of fruits, their sweet aroma lingering, though it didn't mean they were still edible.

Fruits, after their shelf life, expire rapidly, initially emitting their most intense fruity aroma—entering decay in a day or two, accompanied by mold growth.

At this transformative stage, the aroma shifts to a sour rot—an experiment during identification class that Xiao Lin favored. Mold cultivation, if done well, is a medicinal cure, though unseen by those consuming it. Those who witnessed it would vow never to touch it again.

Eyes on the tidy cupboards, Xiao Lin suddenly approached the fridge. Someone once mentioned storing ground coffee in the fridge to preserve flavor. Tobacco shares a similar principle; appropriately chilled, its shelf life extends.

Xiao Lin recalled Tang Xiaoxia mentioning she smoked imported cigarettes. On a whim, he opened the fridge.

Apart from beverages and snacks, beneath a pile of jerky and chocolate, he noticed a red corner. Brushing aside the snacks revealed a soft-pack Red Zhonghua and other cigarettes bundled together. Xiao Lin tucked them into his backpack, closing the fridge door.

In the darkness, a red dot appeared on his shoulder. Xiao Lin, with his back to it, didn't sense it. His right hand rested on the doorknob. With a crackling sound, a shattering noise stung his ear.

Xiao Lin pressed tightly against a screen, surviving thanks to Dragon Soul training in ultraviolet defense and sensor tricks that saved him.

With the first shot failing, Xiao Lin crouched down, darting under the dining table. Bullets had pierced through the kitchen window, exposing him to open sight.

Two more muted shots resonated like stones clashing. A corner of the table was shot off. Xiao Lin rolled and leaped onto the sink, his left hand already sending a Silver Needle towards a specific direction. (To be continued. If you like this story, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote your support for recommendations or monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)