EIP 91

Two months later, Governor Yong held a grand banquet, inviting many prominent figures. While the newspapers reported that the enemy had already taken several cities, this place was still filled with music and dancing, like a fragile dream. Zhou Jun had not been on the guest list, but he arrived with Xin Wanjun, who was visibly pregnant and dressed just well enough to hide her stomach.

She now had a delicate charm about her, and Zhou Jun guessed that Mr. Shi must have been treating her much better than before. Before long, the main figure of the evening appeared, descending the spiral staircase in a suit, walking with steady steps. He was not very tall, and his looks were ordinary. Zhou Jun felt as if he could hear the hearts of countless expectant young ladies shattering around him.

Zhou Jun held his wine glass and let out a mocking laugh. How many more people like Yong Jin could ever exist? Governor Yong had ruthlessly destroyed him, only to replace him with someone of such mediocre caliber. Mr. Shi had helped him investigate the cause of Yong Jin’s downfall. Yong Jin himself was exceptionally gifted in military command but had the misfortune of encountering a superior who constantly made things difficult for him.

In previous years, the superior had harbored an old grudge against Governor Yong, and naturally looked down on Yong Jin, who had been relegated to a lower military position. On one occasion, the superior’s misjudgment of the situation led to a command error that nearly cost the lives of 5,000 soldiers under enemy artillery fire. It was Yong Jin who, with just a hundred soldiers, launched a surprise attack on the enemy’s rear. Through multiple life-threatening missions, Yong Jin earned trust and respect but ultimately met his end at the hands of his own people.

Their plan had been leaked to the enemy, resulting in an ambush. If not for someone’s betrayal, how could the brave, righteous, and accomplished Yong Jin have met such a tragic end? Yet, before the traitor could even be identified, Governor Yong had already completely destroyed Yong Jin’s reputation. If Governor Yong truly cared for his son, how could rumors accusing Yong Jin of deliberately leading his men to their deaths out of arrogance and overconfidence have been allowed to spread? Even the batch of medical supplies he had released for Zhou Jun was marked as a stain on his record, with no effort made to clear his name.

Zhou Jun felt a deep ache in his heart. He took several more sips of his drink to suppress the strong emotion. He could no longer stay. When Bai He arrived, Zhou Jun entrusted Xin Wanjun to him and prepared to leave. He was just about to reach the main entrance when someone behind him called out, “Mr. Zhou.” There were few guests in the area, making it feel empty. Zhou Jun turned around to see Mu Liqing, dressed in white and looking haggard, clearly not doing well.

Zhou Jun did not know what role Mu Liqing played in the matter of Yong Jin, nor how much he had done behind the scenes. He initially did not want to respond, but Mu Liqing’s next words made it impossible to ignore: “You also think he’s dead?” That sentence could have been a statement or a question, maybe Mu Liqing was testing him, or perhaps he really knew something.

Zhou Jun took a few steps closer, fixing Mu Liqing with a sharp stare. In a low voice, he asked, “What do you mean? He isn’t dead?” Mu Liqing gave a bitter laugh. “You, Zhou Jun, seem to be doing so well. You even have another woman in your life. Do you really still care if he’s dead or alive?” Zhou Jun’s expression darkened. His eyes reddened. “I have never believed he’s dead. I’d dig three feet underground if I have to. I’ll find him. If you know something I don’t, then speak. If it’s just empty talk, don’t ever appear before me again.”

He turned to leave, berating himself for being foolish enough to wait around and listen. But Mu Liqing grabbed his left arm and slipped something into his hand. “Hit me.” Zhou Jun did not hesitate. His punch landed solidly on Mu Liqing’s face, showing no mercy, even though Mu Liqing was a performer who relied on his looks.

Ignoring the shocked cries of those around him, Zhou Jun left in a hurry. Once in his car, he finally unfolded the note. There were only three words written on it: “Wait for me.” Zhou Jun’s hands trembled as he clenched the paper. For countless days and nights, the fear of not knowing if that person was alive had tormented him like a blade hanging overhead, never knowing when it might fall. He was terrified that Yong Jin truly was gone, a possibility that frightened him more than anything else.

Mu Liqing must have had contact with Yong Jin, and that note was passed on at Yong Jin’s request. Without that punch, Governor Yong might have suspected Mu Liqing. Zhou Jun’s expression was a mixture of tears and laughter, which scared Old Li the driver so much that he did not dare ask where they were headed. Zhou Jun barely managed to steady his emotions and hoarsely told Old Li to drive to the Zhou residence, thinking about his little niece.

These days, the Zhou family home was no longer short on servants. Zhou Jun had brought back many of the old staff. The house was brightly lit, and his sister-in-law was holding her child in both arms. When she saw Zhou Jun enter, she had someone bring him a bowl of hot soup. Zhou Jun now had less and less time to spend at home. He was extremely busy, hurrying from one task to another. He had to seize every bit of what he had lost, leaving himself no chance to rest.

His sister-in-law was out of her postpartum confinement and went to the hospital almost every day to keep his older brother company. She had just returned today and was not staying overnight. When night came, the baby would cry, looking for her mother, so she could not leave. Zhou Jun took off his coat and walked over to see his little niece, who was in a maid’s arms. After playing with her for a moment, he casually asked his sister-in-law if she wanted to hire a wet nurse. She shook her head. Some things she wanted to do herself, just as she did for her child and her husband.

Zhou Jun did not insist. He simply called over the kitchen maid and told her to make sure his sister-in-law got proper nourishment, with no skimping allowed. The moment he finished speaking, he heard his sister-in-law laughing. Zhou Jun thought she was amused by his request to make more soup for her, but instead she said, “You are becoming more and more like your brother.” Then she sighed and added, “You have done well. Before I realized it, you have already grown up.”

There was a tinge of loneliness in her words, but mostly relief and pride. Zhou Jun only replied, “Sister-in-law, I’m already twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight.” She froze for a moment, recalling how she was the one who observed Zhou Jun’s birthday last year, and her heart suddenly grew heavy. Zhou Jun, however, made an exaggerated show of it and said, “You better not cry, or my brother will give me a beating.” His playful tone finally brought back a bit of their old warmth.

Zhou Jun was caught up in his business and in searching for Yong Jin. Even though he had that note, he never stopped trying to find him. As time passed, the flames of war spread across all of China. Relying on information from Mr. Shi, Zhou Jun learned that even his hometown would soon be ravaged by the war.

He began selling all his assets and sent his brother and sister-in-law abroad, but he himself did not leave. He kept thinking he had to wait for Yong Jin. What if Yong Jin came back and could not find him? Besides, someone had to remain behind to deal with the loose ends and transfer assets overseas. Before his older brother departed, he was furious at Zhou Jun’s decision to stay, but by this point he no longer had the power to make his younger brother change his mind.

Zhou Jun was not foolish. He had made preparations long ago. If the situation became uncontrollable, he would definitely leave. Mr. Shi had a plane and a ship, and Zhou Jun could always borrow one of them, since their underground business had grown significantly and they were on good terms. With his business affairs wrapped up, Zhou Jun would often spend idle moments in his apartment painting or listening to music. This place held too many memories, and he was too attached to give it up so easily.

One otherwise ordinary day, a stray shell came flying in. Zhou Jun awoke amid screams, explosions, and violent tremors. He had known this day would come. There was a car downstairs and a ship at the port. As the building shook, Zhou Jun grabbed the suitcase he had packed in advance and took one last look at his home.

He felt only longing and regret at not having waited long enough to see that person. Several more shells rained down, turning this once bustling area into a living hell. Crowds of people poured into the streets, trying to flee for their lives. Zhou Jun ran to the car, only to find it crushed by a fallen billboard, right where the driver’s seat was, making it unusable.

Frustrated, he pounded on the car before trying to think of another way. He squeezed into the mass of panicked people. Buildings were being hit and rubble was rolling everywhere. Everyone runs for safety. Cries for help and terrified voices filled the air. His ears rang from the blasts, and the crowd kept pushing and shoving him.

He sprinted through one street after another, until a moment came, like a sign from above, just as it always had in the past. He stopped running, and soon there was nobody else around him. As the crowd thinned, his vision cleared. He forgot everything else, including the relentless shaking of the ground, and saw only one person.

That man was struggling to walk, leaning on a cane as he moved toward him with difficulty. Zhou Jun took in the sight of the person he had not seen for a year, noticing the empty pant leg where Yong Jin’s limb used to be and the prosthetic limb now exposed to view. Everyone else ran forward, but he came against the flow, just as he always had.

He drew close and pulled Zhou Jun into a firm embrace. Zhou Jun’s hearing gradually returned, and he heard him say, “If we don’t run now, we’ll both die here.” Snapping back to reality, Zhou Jun urgently said, “I’ll carry you!” Yong Jin threw him a sharp look, grabbed his hand, and the two ran forward at a steady but clumsy pace.

Everything felt like a dream, yet the dream had never included the searing warmth of his hand now holding Zhou Jun’s. They found a car and, through great danger, headed for the port. Yong Jin originally had a ticket for a passenger ship, but upon seeing Zhou Jun leading him to a private boat, he put the ticket away, smiling faintly. “You prepared all this beforehand?”

Zhou Jun was panting, but he kept his eyes fixed on Yong Jin, as if he wanted to gather every memory from the past. His gaze landed on his pant leg, and Yong Jin naturally settled into a seat, motioning him over, just like in Zhou Jun’s earlier dream. Zhou Jun obeyed, then sank down on one knee.

He lifted the fabric on Yong Jin’s left leg. Sure enough, everything below the knee was a prosthetic. Yong Jin even took a moment to explain that it was a new product from overseas. It was not very comfortable, but workable. Zhou Jun’s eyes grew wet as he lifted his head to look at Yong Jin. Then Yong Jin reached out and touched his face. “You’ve lost weight.”

Zhou Jun had too much to say, but it was stuck in his throat. Yong Jin continued, “You said you would wait for me, and you really stayed behind like a fool. I never thought you’d be that silly.” Zhou Jun lowered his head, struggling with his emotions, and finally retorted, “You knew it was dangerous, but you still came back. Isn’t that just as foolish?”

After a long moment, he felt Yong Jin press a kiss to the top of his head. Both of them were being stubborn. In the chaos of war, only the grip of their hands and their shared gaze held them steady. Their past flashed by like rushing water. Yong Jin gave him a gentle smile. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

Zhou Jun wrapped him in an embrace, thinking of what it meant to lose something and then find it again. Perhaps in the next dozen or so years, he would never feel the way he felt at that moment. Yet he knew that, in this lifetime, this man would be engraved on his heart. Only death could fade those marks. Tears filled his eyes as he whispered, “Thank you for loving me.”

Thank you for coming to find me, searching for me in the midst of death, hardship, and war.

END