EM 71. Deep Sea

When Song Feng woke, the first thing that came into view was a ceiling, white as snow. He froze, momentarily unable to recall what had happened before he passed out. He lay there in a daze for several seconds before the fragments in his mind quickly snapped back into place, forming a complete picture. His chest tightened. He tried to sit up at once, but the motion yanked at the wound in his abdomen. A shudder went through his body, his strength vanished, and he collapsed back onto the bed.

He panted, a sheen of cold sweat quickly forming on his forehead. Glancing around, he saw that it was a private hospital room. There was no one else inside. He did not even know who had brought him here.

After catching his breath for a while, he sat up again and pulled the IV needle from the back of his hand. Then he got to his feet and walked toward the door, but after a few steps, his breathing turned ragged and he had to catch himself against the wall. A wave of dizziness hit him. His limbs were weak, and it felt like he might collapse at any moment.

Just then, the door clicked open.

A man in a suit walked in, gold-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. It was Boss Kang. He looked at Song Feng without a flicker of emotion.

“The doctor said you’re not allowed to move yet.”

Song Feng leaned against the wall. His voice was clearly weak. “Why are you here?”

“I heard Fu Shanming is taking advantage of the chaos to swallow up someone else’s territory.”

Song Feng paused in surprise, then understood at once. When gangs fought, bloodshed was inevitable. Kang must have come to finish Fu Shanming off and eliminate the threat for good.

He started walking again. “You’re too late. Is he dead?”

“His men have sealed off the information. Right now we don’t know if he’s alive or not.” Kang’s gaze remained fixed on him. “Where are you going? To find Xiao Mingxuan?”

Song Feng stopped in his tracks. The emotion in his eyes surged so suddenly that it nearly overwhelmed him. His lips moved, but not a sound came out.

Boss Kang instinctively thought he was trying to avoid the question. He was about to speak when he heard Song Feng ask in a low voice, “Where is he now?”

Boss Kang hesitated for a moment, then chose to answer honestly. “He hasn’t been found.”

A sharp pang struck Song Feng’s chest. “What do you mean?”

“The road leads down to the Andaman Sea. It’s a semi-diurnal tide,” he said. “By the time we gathered enough people to start searching, a major tidal shift had already swept through. All we found in the water were pieces of wreckage from the car and a few fragments of human tissue. Not even enough to piece together half a body.” He stopped, seeing the way Song Feng’s face had turned ashen. In a quieter voice, he added, “We’re still looking. If we find anything, you’ll know right away. But for now, you need rest.”

Song Feng’s fists clenched tight. The sound of the explosion kept crashing against his skull, along with the look in Xiao Mingxuan’s eyes just before it. The memories pummeled him again and again, pushing him to the edge. His voice was barely audible.

“I’m going to find him.”

Boss Kang frowned and stepped forward, ready to block him. But just then, someone called out from outside the room.

“Bro, what are you doing up? Where are you trying to go? The doctor said you’re not supposed to move around.”

Bai Xuyao walked in.

Song Feng looked him over. The man had bandages wrapped around his forehead and arm, but his complexion was normal, and he didn’t seem to be in any serious condition. Song Feng asked, “What about the others? Tell me the truth.”

“They’re all resting, nothing serious. Only Duan Qing hasn’t made it through the danger period yet. Senior is keeping watch by his side.”

Song Feng nodded and slowly headed for the door.

“Bro, where are you going?” Bai Xuyao quickly supported him. “You lost too much blood. You were this close to dying. You…” He gasped, staring at the hospital gown. A small dark patch had appeared and was slowly spreading. His head began to ache. “Your wound’s opened up again. Lie down. I’ll go get the doctor.”

“I’m fine.”

Then Bai Xuyao suddenly remembered what his senior had warned him. If this guy snapped, he wouldn’t listen to anyone. He gritted his teeth, tightened his grip, and forcefully dragged him back. “Bro, calm down!”

“Let go.” Song Feng stared at him, eyes sharp and almost vicious. It was an expression no weak or wounded person should be capable of. Bai Xuyao’s heart clenched, and he immediately loosened his grip.

Song Feng broke free and headed for the door, but the moment he turned, his body faltered. His vision went dark, and he collapsed forward.

Bai Xuyao rushed to catch him, carefully lifting him and placing him back on the bed. He turned around in a panic and found someone standing silently at the door. At some point, the man had arrived and chopped the back of Song Feng’s neck, knocking him out cold.

“He just woke up. His mind’s a little unstable. Let him sleep a bit longer, and he should calm down.”

Bai Xuyao stood protectively by the bed, staring at the man warily. “Who are you?”

Boss Kang looked over too, raising an eyebrow. The man was wearing a white traditional Chinese jacket embroidered with gold patterns. He carried a quiet grace and elegance that couldn’t be faked.

It was Song Zhe. For someone who’d been in the underworld as long as Boss Kang had, not recognizing this man would mean he’d lived in vain.

Song Zhe remained just as gentle as ever. “I’m his big brother.”

“Oh, so you’re the shady bastard my bro was talking ab—mmph—” Bai Xuyao didn’t get to finish the sentence. Boss Kang had already clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him out.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shut it, little merc. If you want to live comfortably these next few days, don’t mess with him,” Boss Kang said. “He’s not nearly as nice as I am. Got it?”

It was the first time Bai Xuyao had seen their no-good boss so wary of someone. He rubbed his chin. “But he seems easy to get along with?”

“Yeah, everyone who meets him thinks that,” Boss Kang replied. “Then before they know it, they’re played so hard there’s nothing left. Not even bones. Sometimes, they don’t even live to regret it.”

Bai Xuyao: “…”

When Song Feng opened his eyes again, he was still in the hospital room. Bright daylight streamed through the window, sunlight hitting the edge of the curtain and diffusing into a hazy glow. He had a vague sense someone was watching him. Instinctively, he turned his head, only to be hit by a sharp glare of white light and forced to close his eyes. He could make out a blurred figure and asked reflexively, “Xiao Mingxuan?”

A pause. “No.”

Song Feng frowned, slowly adjusting to the brightness. When he opened his eyes, he saw someone seated in the chair by the bed. It was his older brother. Song Zhe sat with his hands folded, his tone gentle. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” Song Feng murmured. “Any news?”

“Nothing yet.”

Silence settled between them. After a long while, Song Feng spoke quietly. “Brother…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think my life is worth anything?”

“It is,” Song Zhe said gently. “So don’t throw away what he fought to protect. Keep living.”

Song Feng didn’t reply. He lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Song Zhe looked at him. “Do you want to cry?”

Song Feng shook his head. His chest felt hollow, like it had been completely scooped out. He had seen that scumbag die with his own eyes. The man he wanted revenge for was already gone, and there was no one left for him to take it out on. That organization still had a few people left, but with his brother here, it was no longer his fight. Even the future felt like a void. It was so empty it numbed him.

Song Zhe watched him for a while longer, then walked out.

The organization’s leader was dead, and the remaining core members had turned on each other. When Bai Xuyao heard, his first reaction was to grab a gun and go finish the job himself. But before he could act, word came down that they had all been wiped out in a single night. Clean, complete, no survivors. He blinked. “Who did it?”

Boss Kang didn’t answer. He glanced to the side. Song Zhe was sitting there, drinking tea and reading the paper, not even lifting his head. Bai Xuyao followed his gaze and whispered, “Was it him?”

“Most likely.”

Bai Xuyao instantly tensed. From that moment on, he kept his distance from that venomous snake.

Duan Qing finally pulled through three days later, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Search and rescue teams scoured the Andaman Sea and surrounding islands, but they found nothing. The members of Xingtian didn’t know the exact details of what had happened. At first, they all believed their leader would make it back, but as time went on, and the search turned up nothing, their expressions grew darker.

Song Feng’s injuries were almost healed. He hadn’t said much lately, just lay in bed quietly. If not for the visible rise and fall of his chest, he might have looked like a corpse.

Song Zhe sat at his bedside. “We’re heading back tomorrow.”

Song Feng stiffened. He understood better than anyone what that meant. After all these days with no word, it was likely that man… would never be heard from again.

Song Zhe looked at him. “Do you want to cry?”

Song Feng shook his head.

Song Zhe turned to leave. His eyes, usually gentle, had gone cold. This was someone who had cried when his mentor passed, but now he had not shed a single tear. And that was the most terrifying part.

Song Feng stared blankly at the ceiling. These past few days, he kept remembering all the little details about that man. He hadn’t even realized there were so many to recall. Day by day, he remembered more and more, until they filled his entire mind.

Xiao Mingxuan belonged to him. No matter how the world changed, he would never change. He would always be by his side. That thought had taken root in his mind at some unknown point, and now it had grown so deep it hurt. It kept tormenting him, reminding him just how much he had lost.

The next day, everyone began coming up with excuses from early morning, dragging things out until the sun set. But just like the days before, there was still no news. Left with no other choice, they boarded the helicopter and left.

Song Feng sat by the window, gazing downward. Night had fallen, and the city below shimmered under the lights, everything clearly visible. His eyes drifted toward the horizon, to a patch of pure black. That was the Andaman Sea.

A sudden, unbearable ache stabbed through his chest, so sharp it nearly stole his breath. He lunged forward against the window, fists clenched tight. That person who had loved him, spoiled him, and cared for him, the only one who had ever made him feel that way, someone he would never encounter again in this life, was now lying alone in the freezing sea. His body was left to the fish, and in the end, there was not even anyone left to recover him.

He stared hard in that direction. His mouth opened. He wanted to scream, but not a single word came out.

Song Zhe was the first to notice something was wrong. “…Ah Feng?”

“I want to go down. Let me down. He lied to me…” Song Feng said, his voice trembling from start to finish. “He said, ‘Song Feng, my life is yours. Even if the whole world turns its back on you, I never will.’ He lied.”

Song Zhe answered softly, his voice steady and patient. “He shouldn’t have lied. But he must have cared about you. What else did he say?”

“He said so many things… so many…” Song Feng murmured. Then his body trembled slightly, and when he spoke again, his voice broke apart. “He said, as long as he was alive, he would stay with me forever. He… he…”

Song Zhe was silent for a moment. He looked at him. “Do you want to cry?”

Song Feng trembled again. Then all at once, he raised his hands and covered his face. At eight hundred meters above ground, with the sea shrinking further and further below, he broke down in sobs.