The scent of antiseptic filled Zhan's nose, making every nerve in his body stand on edge. He watched as the nurse paced back and forth across the room, though he had no idea what she was doing. She had already examined him and assured him that he was fine, which had somewhat eased the anxiety that had gripped him since they left the village.
The people in the house where he had spent the night had treated him in a way he never imagined he would experience. But everything had unfolded chaotically, and he was still trying to piece it all together. If things had been different, maybe he would have been relieved, maybe even happy. But he hadn't even touched the food that had been brought to his room. It wasn't until dawn, when the elderly woman—whom he had come to understand was Yi Fan's mother—kept bustling in and out, fussing over the man who had brought him, that she finally pressured him into eating something. He had eaten not because he wanted to but because he knew his body needed it. His current state was beyond explanation.
After that, he took a bath, hoping it would wash away some of the heaviness weighing on him. But even as he stepped out, his heart still bore the burden of the memories replaying in his mind. The moment Peng had pinned him down… the feel of the metal in his hand as he drove it into Peng… Every time he thought about it, a searing pain burned through his chest. If there was any greater horror in the world, he couldn't imagine it.
After saying their goodbyes to the people in the house, Zhan followed the man whose name he still didn't know. They walked for a while before stopping at the side of the road. This time, Yibo turned fully to face him. Zhan wasn't looking at him, but he suddenly felt small, like a child. Yibo, on the other hand, stood like an immovable mountain before him.
"Zhan."
Yibo said his name as if it had always been part of his life, as if last night was not the first time he had been heard the name.
"I need you to tell me everything in detail. What was your connection to Peng?"
At that moment, Zhan felt like screaming. A gut-wrenching scream that could tear through the air and take his pain with it. Because, heaven knew, even thinking about it was too much—let alone speaking it aloud.
But when Yibo's voice came again, firmer, demanding an answer, Zhan realized he had no choice. He had no idea how the law worked or what his fate would be. But he did know that even a thief caught stealing would be detained by the police, let alone someone who had used a weapon and injured another person.
Right now, whether he liked it or not, Zhan knew this man had helped him in a way no one else would have. If the police had arrived first, he had no idea what would have happened to him.
His hands trembled as he rubbed them together, then finally began to speak, telling Yibo everything. From his Baba's illness, to how he and Min had ended up in Fen's house, how he started working there, and the things Fen had said to him before introducing him to Peng. His voice shook, and he barely managed to hold back his tears.
By the time he was done, he didn't even know how much time had passed. Yibo sat in deep thought, his mind likely trying to piece everything together. And then, just when Zhan thought the interrogation was over, Yibo asked him a question that nearly stopped his heart.
"Do you feel anything… off about yourself?"
Why was he asking that? Was that all he had taken from everything he had just said?
Zhan had no answer. Even if someone held a gun to his head, he wouldn't be able to say. All he knew was that Peng had completely overpowered him before he managed to fight back. But after that, the overwhelming panic that had consumed him had made it impossible to process anything else.
So he shook his head and, with complete honesty, told Yibo, "I don't know."
At that, Yibo pulled out his phone, typing something quickly before starting the car and driving toward an unknown destination.
If they had been on the road for a long time, Zhan hadn't noticed. His mind was too tangled in its own thoughts. It wasn't until they entered the city of Pengshan, the signs of shops and businesses confirming their location, that he even realized how far they had traveled.
The place where they first stopped seemed like a marketplace, with numerous shops and people busy with their daily activities. Zhan had no idea where Yibo had gone until he suddenly appeared from the crowd, holding a plastic bag in his hand.
Without saying a word, Yibo got into the car and handed the bag to Zhan, then started the engine and drove off. They soon arrived in a quieter neighborhood, where new buildings were under construction. Yibo pulled over beside a structure that provided some cover for the car, then turned to Zhan.
"There are clothes inside. Change out of what you're wearing," Yibo instructed.
Without waiting for a response, he opened the car door, stepped out, and disappeared around the corner of the building.
Inside the bag was a white shirt, a pair of trouser, and some simple slip-on shoes. The stark whiteness of the shirt contrasted sharply with the darkness he felt inside.
From there, Yibo brought him to the hospital. The moment Zhan stepped inside, an unsettling feeling settled in his stomach. The cold air, unnatural and unlike the usual outdoor breeze, sent chills through him, amplifying the weight of everything he had already been feeling.
It wasn't until the nurse completed all the necessary tests and confirmed that he was in perfect health that Zhan's heart finally steadied.
But then, his thoughts drifted back home.
How were the people in the house reacting to his disappearance? Were they worried, or did they not care at all?
He knew they would eventually trace things back to Fen. Would she tell them where Peng had taken him? Had they already discovered what had happened? He was certain Min would be the most worried about him. What state was she in now?
Wait. Was everyone searching for him—so they could turn him in?
These thoughts consumed him as he followed the nurse out of the examination room and into the hospital lobby, which had rows of chairs and various pathways leading to different sections of the facility.
That was when he spotted Yibo, standing near the glass doors, on a call.
For the first time, Zhan really saw his face.
The previous night, every man's face had blurred into Peng's in his mind. That was why he hadn't even cared to look at Yibo. All he had recognized was something in Yibo's voice—something that had soothed him enough to make him believe what he was saying.
The nurse walked over to the cashier's desk to hand in some documents. Meanwhile, Yibo turned to face him, and before Zhan could gather his thoughts, Yibo was already approaching. The scent of his cologne hit Zhan first, the same scent that had filled the car.
"They said you're completely fine, so try to stop worrying. We'll go through everything step by step before you even think about calling home, okay?"
Yibo's voice was calm, gentle even—like someone speaking to a child.
And in that moment, something inside Zhan hollowed out.
All the overwhelming emotions, the fear, the uncertainty—they faded, if only for a second.
No man had ever spoken to him like this, except for his tutors or shopkeepers when he was sent on errands. But Yibo didn't know that. Yibo didn't know that Zhan was no one special.
He had simply found him in this mess and was trying to help.
Perhaps if Zhan told him everything—told him where he came from—Yibo might even need to call the police. Or simply walk away, leaving Zhan to fend for himself.
Before Zhan could respond, the nurse returned, handing some papers to Yibo along with a bank card. Yibo had apparently instructed her to cover all the medical expenses. She explained something to him, but Zhan wasn't paying attention until he heard Yibo say, "Let's go."
Zhan dragged his feet as he followed behind Yibo, his heart growing heavier with each step. The realization hit him once again—human beings have no real control over their lives. We move through this world believing we're in charge, thinking we're smart, but in the end, if fate wills it, a few seconds are all it takes to strip everything away and turn life into something we never imagined.
Just two days ago, he never would have believed that his feet would take him out of Beijing—a city he had never even fully explored. And yet, here he was, leaving with a man whose name he hadn't even known, heading to an unknown place with no certainty about his future. His life felt like an empty shell, as if someone had dumped out its contents, leaving nothing but a hollow space.
But then...
As they stepped out of the hospital, Zhan heard Yibo speaking on the phone. A few simple words struck him so hard that his knees nearly buckled beneath him. His legs felt weak, like overcooked noodles, struggling to hold him up.
"As I said, we're on our way now. And for the start, I only need one thing—a secure place. Because I'm with my husband!"
Husband…
My husband…
Who?
Was HE talking about him?
:-*:-*:-*:-*:-*:-
Shi Lei had lived a long life, but in all his years, he had never felt such unease and turmoil as he had in the past two days.
First, his boss—the man who held all the power over him—called him in for a harsh reprimand. He accused Shi Lei of being reckless and careless, questioning how he could have spent over a year working alongside a covert investigator without realizing it. If he weren't completely incompetent, how else could he explain such an oversight?
Shi Lei had done his best to explain himself, to justify his ignorance, but his boss was having none of it. In the end, he was given one final order—dig up every single detail related to Yibo. Anything that had ever passed through Yibo's hands had to be investigated to ensure there were no loose ends. Yibo had slipped through their grasp, but they were still hunting him.
Shi Lei had barely begun carrying out this order when the news arrived—the devastating news of Peng's death.
By the time his driver pulled up in front of Peng's friend's house, where it had all happened, Shi Lei was completely numb. His mind was in chaos, unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
He had never realized how much he actually cared for his son.
For years, his sole focus had been making money, pushing forward, and ensuring his family's wealth never dwindled. He had convinced himself that as long as his children were surrounded by luxury, there was no need to get involved in their lives. They had everything they could ever ask for—wasn't that enough?
But now, staring at Peng's lifeless body lying in a pool of blood, all of those beliefs shattered.
All his confidence, his pride, and his ambitions suddenly felt meaningless.
Because before he was a businessman, before he was a powerful figure—
He was a husband.
He was a father.
And now, the son who had first given him that title was lying there, motionless, never to wake again.
From the moment Qian handed him the phone and Zang told him that Peng was dead—killed by Yibo—Shi Lei's world began to spiral. Now, standing at the crime scene, the police confirmed the same story. The guard described a man, whom Zang identified as Yibo, entering the house shortly after Peng arrived and then disappearing inside.
But as Shi Lei knelt beside Peng's lifeless body, something didn't add up. The wounds on his son's body didn't suggest a clean, calculated kill—rather, they looked like injuries sustained in a struggle for survival. It seemed like Peng had fought for his life against someone, not that he had been executed. And for all that Shi Lei knew about Yibo—though Yibo had always hidden a significant part of himself—Shi Lei understood him enough to know one thing: there was no way Yibo would harm Peng. If he ever did, it wouldn't have been like this.
Yibo was intelligent. He knew how to operate in their world—how to make things disappear without a trace. If he had wanted someone dead, there would be no evidence, no doubt, no loose ends. And if Yibo had truly turned to murder, he certainly wouldn't have started with Peng—someone who had never been a threat to him. The nature of Peng's injuries pointed to a more impulsive, unplanned attack, the kind of violence committed by ordinary men in a moment of rage, not the work of someone like Yibo.
But so what?
Was Shi Lei really going to clear Yibo's name? The same Yibo who, despite failing to take him down, had left a mark on his record—one that even his own boss now scrutinized? Was he supposed to defend Yibo when this could be the perfect opportunity to finally put an end to him?
No.
Shi Lei found himself willing to let whoever had done this walk free, as long as the blame fell squarely on Yibo. If pinning this on him meant finally capturing him, then so be it. Because if Yibo was caught this time, there would be no escape—his fate would be sealed.
So, without hesitation, Shi Lei remained silent. When asked for his opinion, he didn't argue against Yibo's guilt. What did people say? An eye for an eye, a traitor deserves no mercy.
Everything fell into place as he had anticipated. He provided the police with every detail about Yibo that could help them track him down. Then, he presented his findings to his boss, who, though shaken by the news, assured Shi Lei that there was nothing to worry about.
"If Yibo is the one responsible, then his days are numbered."
His boss leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"Since those idiots at the agency failed, I'll have Ping take care of it. I want him and his men to drop everything and hunt Yibo down. Send me his complete details through my old email. And don't worry—we will avenge your son. You know Ping. You know nothing escapes him."
Shi Lei did know Ping.
And he knew that in their line of work, nothing ever truly slipped past him.
After all, when it came to smuggling operations across the entire country, Ping and his men were the backbone—the enforcers who ensured that every deal was carried out without fail. If anyone could get the job done, it was them.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛