EIP 64

Mu Liqing’s expression had been something to behold. As Zhou Jun walked out of the Pear Garden, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of it. He pulled his coat tighter and put on his hat. During the meeting, Xiao Fu had been kept waiting outside. For some reason, Mu Liqing hadn’t let him in, which left him visibly uneasy. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, as if he wanted to ask something but didn’t dare.

Once Xiao Fu started the car, Zhou Jun settled into the back seat. On the way back, Xiao Fu tentatively asked a few questions, but Zhou Jun simply smoked his cigar in silence. Only when Xiao Fu gave up and stopped speaking did Zhou Jun finally say, slowly, “What are you so afraid of? Have you seen me do anything improper these days? Or do you doubt me? Doubt my elder brother’s judgment?”

The words weighed heavily, and Xiao Fu grew flustered. “Second Master, that’s not what I meant,” he replied quickly.

Zhou Jun continued, “So, no matter what kind of business my elder brother discusses, you think you have to be there for all of it?”

Xiao Fu gripped the steering wheel tightly. “It’s not like that…”

But Zhou Jun didn’t stop. “In the end, you still don’t trust me.”

Xiao Fu went silent. Zhou Jun had pushed him to the edge. There was nothing left to say.

After a pause, Zhou Jun relented. “Back in university, Allen was my classmate. He’s in business now, and I keep an eye on his activities from time to time. Lately, he’s been trying to unload a batch of goods in a hurry. I’ve heard that those same goods have already caused several deaths in France. I was just giving Mr. Mu a friendly reminder to be cautious.”

Opium was harmful, but it didn’t kill on first contact. Whatever substance Allen was moving now was far more potent. People had died from it. And many of Mu Liqing’s clients held power and influence. If one of them ended up dead because of Allen’s product, it would be a disaster.

The information Zhou Jun gave Mu Liqing was valuable enough. He had revealed a weakness, offered a benefit, and wrapped it all with a subtle threat. By the time their conversation ended, Zhou Jun knew he had accomplished what he came to do. Everything he had done since receiving that anonymous letter had not been for nothing.

After Allen kidnapped him and tried to inject him with that blue drug, Zhou Jun had investigated. The trail led all the way to France and uncovered the truth. He hadn’t expected it to become a bargaining chip now.

His past with Yong Jin had become a bargaining chip. By agreeing to Mu Liqing’s request, he was making a silent promise to Governor Yong. It meant cutting off all ties with Yong Jin. Though they had already stopped seeing each other, this promise was symbolic. It made the separation final.

Before leaving, Zhou Jun reached into his coat and pulled out a handgun. Mu Liqing glanced at it and asked, “What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Zhou?”

Zhou Jun smiled faintly. “It was a gift from Major General Yong. Since I can’t keep any connection with him, I’ll have to trouble Mr. Mu to return it on my behalf.”

He stood up gracefully and moved to the door. Mu Liqing called out just before he left. Zhou Jun paused and looked back.

“He truly cares for you,” Mu Liqing said. “By doing this, have you thought about how it leaves him?”

Zhou Jun didn’t respond. He stepped outside and quietly shut the door behind him.

In the car, the city lights flickered past. Billboards, wide avenues, and a hotel decorated with red lanterns blurred into a swirl of motion. Zhou Jun leaned against the window, watching the lights spin. He thought, if Yong Jin hadn’t been the one to say they shouldn’t meet again, would he still have used him like this, for the sake of the Zhou family? Or was it because Yong Jin had cut things off first that he now felt justified in doing the same?

He closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the cold glass. His thoughts tangled, chaotic. Maybe there were no “what ifs,” only consequences. But some people still crash into your life, uninvited and unforgettable.

Ahead, a rickshaw had overturned a fruit stall, and bright red apples were rolling across the road. Xiao Fu stopped the car just as Zhou Jun opened his eyes. Standing near the scene, leaning against a car, was Yong Jin.

The wind tugged at his coat, lifting the collar to his chin. His hair was tousled, his face flushed. He rubbed his eyes, as if the wind had stung them, and the red gem on his ring finger caught the light. It pierced straight into Zhou Jun’s eyes.

Is he drunk? Zhou Jun wondered. Otherwise, why would he look like he was on the verge of tears?

Before he realized it, Zhou Jun had rolled down the window. He leaned out, not even noticing the ash from his cigar falling onto his trousers. He stared at that ring, and for some reason, he almost wanted to laugh.

In the end, Yong Jin had simply picked up what he didn’t want and put it back on his finger. Even a man with a shred of dignity wouldn’t do that. Zhou Jun wanted to mock him, but his smile was bitter, and his mouth was dry. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Yong Jin looked exhausted. One hand rested against his chin. Then, he lowered his head and kissed the ring.

Zhou Jun looked away. It felt too private, too much. But a thought crept in anyway. Maybe this was the last time. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look just a little longer.

The wind rushed through the open window as Xiao Fu stepped on the accelerator. Yong Jin’s figure slid past, then vanished from view.

Zhou Jun stared after him. Before regret could take hold, he told Xiao Fu to stop the car.

Though puzzled, Xiao Fu did as instructed. Tonight, the Second Young Master had surprised him once again. He could no longer see Zhou Jun as someone simple.

Zhou Jun stepped out of the car and began to walk. Then he paused. In that moment of stillness, a rush of thoughts flooded his mind.

The ring he had thrown away, how had it ended up back in Yong Jin’s hands? Had Mu Liqing picked it up, or had someone else been watching? He had sensed for a while that someone was following him. They had never done him harm. In fact, they might have saved him once. He still remembered that day on the crowded street, when someone had pulled him out of danger, then vanished without a trace. Were they hiding out of fear, or for another reason?

The anonymous letter had exposed Governor Yong’s dealings with Zhou Yan. But why had it been sent to him? Could it have been Yong Jin? If so, did that mean Yong Jin already knew about his father and Zhou Yan? If he knew, why had he gone so far as to send a warning?

Zhou Jun dared not think further. He wanted to run. He wanted to get back in the car and tell Xiao Fu to drive.

But just as he was about to turn, Yong Jin looked at him. Maybe he really was drunk, because he smiled. It was the same soft smile he had once shown in bed, when speaking of love as the scent of flowers under moonlight.

And now, under that same moonlight, Yong Jin walked toward him, one step at a time. His shadow stretched across the pavement behind him.

In those eyes, there was only Zhou Jun.

And for Zhou Jun, there was only him.

Yong Jin came to a stop. He stood still, not speaking. Zhou Jun finally asked, “Why are you looking at me?”

Only when they were standing close did Zhou Jun catch the heavy scent of alcohol. He let out a breath. So he was drunk. That made things simpler. It did not have to mean anything. It could all be a dream.

His gaze shifted toward the car. It was empty. “Where is Deputy Chen?” he asked. “Why are you here alone?”

Yong Jin still said nothing. His gaze stayed on him, as if even blinking would break something. Zhou Jun couldn’t help but smile back, already caught in the haze of wine and memory.

When Yong Jin lifted his hand, Zhou Jun didn’t move away.

His fingers brushed over Zhou Jun’s face, traced along his earlobe, then slid down to his neck. Finally, his hand settled at the nape, drawing him in. When Yong Jin kissed him, Zhou Jun did not move away.

The street behind them remained noisy, but Zhou Jun no longer cared who might see. Whether it was Xiao Fu or anyone else, it no longer mattered. He lifted his arms slowly and wrapped them around Yong Jin’s waist, letting himself fall into the moment.