EIP 44

Zhou Jun needed to shower, and Yong Jin had to apply some medicine. The doctor, wary of offending the major, subtly suggested that it was best to avoid any vigorous movements for the time being. Zhou Jun tidied up his clothes, waiting for the doctor to apply the medicine while he stood nearby, watching. Hearing the doctor’s words, Zhou Jun’s brows twitched, and a wave of regret washed over him. As the doctor treated the bleeding wound, he felt a deep, almost tearful remorse.

He kept his eyes on Yong Jin’s injury, unable to look away. Yong Jin eventually grew uncomfortable with Zhou Jun’s gaze, so he stuffed a handkerchief into Zhou Jun’s pocket and patted his waist. “Remember the way, right? Go take a shower.”

The handkerchief belonged to Zhou Jun, and it had been used to wipe off the lingering mess on his backside afterward. Yong Jin had helped him clean up, though Zhou Jun initially resisted, trying to cover up with his hand, wanting to handle it himself.

But in the end, Zhou Jun couldn’t resist. He found himself with his pants pulled down, his ankles held up, exposing the mess below. When he was finally let go, Zhou Jun quickly sat up to put his pants and clothes back on, completely unaware of where the handkerchief had ended up. Now, with the doctor present, Yong Jin tucked that same handkerchief into his chest pocket. Even though the doctor wasn’t aware of anything, Zhou Jun still felt too restless to sit still.

He glared at Yong Jin, but it lacked any real force. Yong Jin, acting as if he hadn’t noticed, leaned back on the sofa, looking somewhat tired. Zhou Jun knew he was worn out, already exhausted, and yet still went along with this foolishness. He felt a bit childish himself. He should’ve left Yong Jin alone instead of indulging him just because he seemed a bit annoyed. Quietly, he walked upstairs, returning to Yong Jin’s room. From Yong Jin’s closet, he took out a deep blue robe embroidered with large, flamboyant flowers.

After his shower, Zhou Jun tied the robe around himself and realized how well it fit, almost as if it had been tailored just for him. He suspected that Yong Jin had it made for him to wear on his next visit.

His hair was still a bit damp, with a towel around his neck soaking up the remaining water. Tonight, he wasn’t planning to go back. He wanted to stay here and keep Yong Jin company. Knowing that Yong Jin was injured and they’d just shared some sweet moments, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Besides, if he went back now, his older brother might end up disciplining him, so staying here seemed like the safer choice.

He draped one of Yong Jin’s jackets over himself, finding half a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in the pocket. He decided to light one up, but just as he placed it between his lips and lit it, he heard a heavy thud and a groan coming from one of the nearby rooms. Zhou Jun frowned and leaned out to see where the sound came from. Two windows to the right were shut tight, but the third was wide open, with the curtains fluttering in the breeze. Then came another noise, a soft, intermittent cry that tugged at his heart.

Unable to resist his curiosity, Zhou Jun walked toward the source of the sound. As he passed one door, he could hear the crying more clearly. It had now quieted into muffled words. The door was slightly ajar, letting the voices drift out clearly. Just as Zhou Jun placed his hand on the doorknob, he heard a low, gentle voice coaxing, “Don’t cry anymore.”

Zhou Jun froze, hesitating to push the door open. He could hear the person inside crying softly, choking back tears. “It hurts so much. But better me than someone else. They say the heavens don’t even bother with the unworthy. I guess that’s true. My life isn’t worth much, after all.”

Zhou Jun’s expression darkened. He wanted to hear what the other person in the room would say next, if it would be like the sweet words he used to say when they were together.

The cigarette had burned down to halfway, and the ash fell, searing his hand, but Zhou Jun didn’t move, almost as if he couldn’t feel it. Then he heard Yong Jin’s voice. “I know you did that for the Yong family. Don’t look down on yourself. You’re one of us, and the Yong family will always protect you.”

The person inside replied bitterly. “Do you not know what I did this for?” Zhou Jun clenched his teeth, narrowing his eyes. From behind the door, he strained to hear how Yong Jin would respond. Yong Jin’s voice came through again, gentle and firm. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me. And I’ll say it again. The Yong family will stand behind you, protecting you.”

Hearing this, Zhou Jun’s urge to leave faded. He waited for a moment, but apart from the person’s quiet sobs and Yong Jin’s unresponsive silence, there was no other sound. So, he knocked on the door. It was only then he noticed the pain in his index finger from the burn, and he pressed it between his lips. When Yong Jin asked who it was, Zhou Jun pushed the door open and entered, not in the most polite manner.

The first thing he saw upon entering was Yong Jin sitting in a chair by the head of the bed, his knee resting against the bed’s edge. Following the line of Yong Jin’s knee, Zhou Jun noticed a pale, delicate hand resting nearby, almost as graceful as a woman’s. His gaze moved up from the hand, scrutinizing its owner. The person had a striking appearance. Now sickly and frail, their hair disheveled and lips pale, which added a fragile, captivating beauty to their face.

Zhou Jun couldn’t help but feel more forgiving. After all, with someone this attractive, it was easier for him to let things go. Besides, Yong Jin had handled the situation well, not giving the sickly beauty too much hope in his words. Zhou Jun’s jealousy eased, replaced with a bit of sympathy. Remembering the blood-stained robe he’d seen earlier, he asked, “What happened here?”

As Zhou Jun took in Mu Liqing’s appearance, Mu Liqing was also observing Mr. Zhou, whom he’d only met once before. He recalled seeing this man and the Major General sharing a kiss at the pear orchard, leaving a lasting impression. When Mr. Zhou entered so casually, Mu Liqing’s already wounded heart grew colder. Zhou Jun looked in excellent spirits, with his loosely tied robe, faint red marks on his neck, and Yong Jin’s coat draped over his shoulders.

Zhou Jun entered as if it were nothing, sucking on his finger like a child but somehow managing not to appear rude. His face held an air of nobility, his brows were refined, and the look he gave Mu Liqing was devoid of jealousy. He gazed at him as if he were simply admiring a flower. Mu Liqing’s presence hadn’t stirred even the slightest ripple in his mood. When Yong Jin had come in earlier to comfort him, Mu Liqing had noticed the fresh marks of a kiss on his neck.

In just an hour apart, those new marks had appeared. It was clear that only this Mr. Zhou could act so boldly with the Major General here at the Yong residence. Mu Liqing sank deeply into the bedcovers, his heart filled with jealousy, heartbreak, frustration, and helplessness. He couldn’t compare to this Mr. Zhou. Just looking at Zhou’s robe, Mu Liqing knew.

He frequently visited the Yong residence, yet he’d never stayed overnight, let alone had a few personal items placed there. But Mr. Zhou’s well-fitted robe clearly belonged to him. It was tailored perfectly. The difference in their significance was obvious at a glance. Mu Liqing’s face showed traces of bitterness, and with the disheartened sigh he released, he seemed even sicker.

Yong Jin stood and approached Zhou Jun, pulling Zhou’s hand closer to examine the small red mark on his finger and frowning. “What happened?” Before Zhou Jun could answer, he added, “Let’s talk outside.” With that, he turned back to Mu Liqing, told him to rest, then led Zhou Jun by the wrist out of the room. Hearing Mu Liqing’s name, Zhou Jun suddenly remembered. Wasn’t he the popular actor he’d once seen at the pear orchard?

At the time, Mu Liqing had been wearing makeup, and Zhou Jun hadn’t expected him to look so delicate and charming without it. The bitterness in Zhou Jun’s heart flared up again, a wave of jealousy rushing over him, as if he had drunk an entire pot of vinegar. Yong Jin, however, only thought about how much he understood Mu Liqing’s feelings. Mu Liqing had taken three bullets for him, so there was no need for him to be overly affectionate with Zhou Jun in Mu Liqing’s sickroom.

His mind was on the burn on Zhou Jun’s hand when he noticed Zhou Jun’s gaze lingering at the door, as if lost in thought. Yong Jin raised an eyebrow, then grabbed Zhou Jun’s hand firmly and spoke with clear irritation. “Snap out of it. Stop staring.”