EIP 66

Yong Jin’s head was snapped to the side by the blow, blood soaking the pristine white collar of his shirt. Zhou Jun finally registered the pain, perhaps because the glass shard in his hand had embedded itself fully into his flesh. The sharp sting seemed to spread straight to his heart, leaving him dizzy.

He gasped for air and clutched his injured hand tightly. He wanted to scream at Yong Jin to get out. His heart slammed against his ribs, each beat sharp with pain.

Zhou Jun sank onto the bed, his body heavy with fatigue. For a long moment, his gaze lingered on Yong Jin’s face, streaked with blood and tears, a sight both startling and deeply pitiful. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions, until Zhou Jun finally broke it. “I overreacted. I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Yong Jin seemed to jolt back to reality, his expression softening as he stepped away. “No, I should be the one apologizing. I was too impulsive,” he replied quietly.

Zhou Jun wiped a trembling hand over his face, his skin clammy with cold sweat, the calm from his shower already gone.

“Go clean up,” he said after a pause. “If you walk out looking like that, your people might show up tonight and put a gun to my head.”

Yong Jin didn’t argue. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon following. Zhou Jun pulled out a cigarette. Blood had soaked into the filter, and when he bit down, the sharp metallic taste filled his mouth.

He had planned to call the front desk for room service once Yong Jin left. But before he could move, Yong Jin stepped out of the bathroom, holding a clean handkerchief. It wasn’t the kind provided by the hotel. It looked personal, likely one he had brought himself. He walked over and said softly, “Give me your hand.”

Maybe it was the earlier burst of anger that had worn him out, but Zhou Jun didn’t resist. He let Yong Jin take his hand and quietly clean the blood and glass from the wound. The cigarette stayed between his lips as he smoked, only flinching with a sharp hiss when the alcohol touched raw skin. His fingers jerked, trying to pull back.

“Don’t move,” Yong Jin said softly. Zhou Jun gave him a look but didn’t argue. It didn’t take long for Yong Jin to finish. The cut on his own hand had already scabbed, but Zhou Jun, knowing he was partly to blame, figured it was only fair to return the gesture. He picked up the phone and said, “I’ll call for a first aid kit. I’ll patch you up.”

Yong Jin didn’t appreciate the gesture. “No need. I’m leaving,” he said. Zhou Jun shifted slightly, realizing he still had questions to ask. After calming down, he decided it would be better to speak up rather than let it fester in his mind. “A few days ago, I received a letter. Was it from you?” he asked.

Yong Jin finished tending to Zhou Jun’s wound and quietly pulled his gloves back on. He buttoned up his shirt, trying to cover the bloodstained collar. When Zhou Jun asked, he barely reacted and said flatly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The answer caught Zhou Jun’s attention. He stepped in front of Yong Jin, arms crossed, his expression sharp. “You could’ve just said no. Saying you don’t know what I’m talking about makes you look guilty.”

Yong Jin remained calm, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sleeves. “I really don’t know,” he said, his tone unchanged.

Zhou Jun’s face darkened. He studied Yong Jin’s expressions closely, but ever since the man sobered up, he had sealed off any weakness or vulnerability. His demeanor was impeccable, giving Zhou Jun nothing to work with. This made him hesitant to bring up anything about Governor Yong directly.

Yong Jin stood to leave. Zhou Jun grabbed his arm. “Why did you pick up the ring? Don’t you have any self-respect?”

Yong Jin paused and turned to face Zhou Jun, his gaze deep and piercing, sharp enough to unsettle him. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “The ring has returned to its owner.” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

He gave a quiet nod and looked at Zhou Jun one last time before walking away. This time, Zhou Jun didn’t stop him.

The next morning, Zhou Jun woke up in the hotel and called for room service. The server brought in a tray with golden fried eggs, bacon, milk, and the day’s newspaper. He had just picked up his knife and fork when his eyes caught a glimpse of the headlines. His face went pale. Slowly, he unfolded the paper and began to read, a cold shiver creeping down his back.

He hadn’t known that Yong Jin was headed to an occupied zone. That place was so dangerous other warlords avoided it at all costs. How could anyone willingly go there?

Zhou Jun rushed through breakfast, got dressed, and headed downstairs to catch a cab back to his apartment. As he slid the elevator gate shut, he noticed the handkerchief still tied around his hand. He paused, then pulled it off and shoved it into his pocket. Once outside, he flagged down a rickshaw.

On the ride, he unfolded the newspaper he’d brought from the hotel and read the article again. Even though he had already memorized the details, he couldn’t help but keep reading.

The more he read, the stronger his unease grew. Zhou Jun had assumed that if Yong Jin went to war, it would be a calculated move, something to earn accolades and climb the ranks. With his background, he was never supposed to be in real danger. But now, it looked like his connections weren’t shielding him at all. If anything, they were turning against him, and that was far worse than Zhou Jun had expected.

Governor Yong’s reassignment no longer looked like a promotion. Yong Jin’s deployment to the front lines seemed deliberate, not out of military necessity but as a way to corner the governor. Worst of all, Yong Jin himself didn’t seem able to stop it.

The more Zhou Jun thought about it, the colder he felt. Whatever this was had already pulled Yong Jin under. And there was nothing he could do. His family’s influence meant little in the face of real power.

If even Zhou Jun could see the danger coming, there was no way Yong Jin hadn’t already noticed. He was closer to the center of power and surely understood every detail surrounding Governor Yong. But that knowledge did nothing to ease Zhou Jun’s anxiety.

He didn’t want to waste time on useless actions. After arriving at his apartment, he picked up his phone book and made a few calls. First, he contacted a friend at the newspaper to confirm the source of the news. Then, he called Lin Sheng, a political advisor. By the time he finished those calls, his forehead was slick with sweat. The newspaper article was accurate, and the deployment order had been issued quite some time ago. However, the details couldn’t be disclosed to him.

Zhou Jun thanked Lin Sheng and promised to meet for a meal sometime. After hanging up, he paced the room, his throat dry. He thought about getting some water, but the kitchen hadn’t been touched in days. The teapot sat empty on the counter.

He opened the fridge and pulled out an ice cream. The cold stung his mouth, but it dulled the heat in his chest, numbing the frustration he couldn’t name.

None of it seemed to matter anymore. Zhou Jun told himself there was nothing he could do, and no reason to try. He finished the ice cream and went back to his room, hoping to lie down and clear his head. But as soon as he hit the bed, he thought he caught a faint trace of Yong Jin’s scent.

He buried his face in the pillow, trying to hold onto it. For a while, he stayed like that, arms wrapped around it, before letting out a quiet laugh and calling himself crazy. He got up, changed clothes, and only then remembered it was a holiday. On his way back earlier, he’d seen children setting off firecrackers along the road. The cheerful popping had reminded him of the festivities.

He buttoned his cuffs and reached for his favorite pocket square, but it was gone. He tore through the wardrobe, even yanking out an entire drawer in frustration, but it didn’t turn up. In the end, he sank to the floor and let out a quiet sigh.

That evening, Zhou Jun returned to the Zhou family home. With no social engagements to attend, the house was lively for the holiday. Though Zhou Yan wasn’t fully recovered, he had changed into new clothes and came out of his room to hand out red envelopes to the younger generation. After dinner, he also prepared generous red envelopes for the household staff, thanking them for their hard work throughout the year.

His brother and sister-in-law seemed closer than ever, the illness having brought them back to something like a honeymoon phase. Watching the joyous family atmosphere, Zhou Jun felt his lingering worries begin to fade, becoming less overwhelming.

A few children tugged at his sleeve, insisting he join them in the courtyard to set off firecrackers. Zhou Jun let them drag him along, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, ready to have some fun. Just as he was about to get started, Aunt Li approached him. “Second Young Master, there’s a phone call for you,” she said. Pausing for a moment, she added, “It’s from a gentleman.”

His elder brother and sister-in-law had already gone to the courtyard to watch the fireworks. Zhou Jun bent down to slip an extra red envelope to one of the older kids, telling them to lead the others outside to play. Only after that did he head toward the hall. The phone had been ringing for a while by now, and Aunt Li, standing nearby, looked more anxious than he was at his leisurely pace.

When Zhou Jun finally picked up the phone, the sound of fireworks came from the other end, blending with those outside, as if they were echoing one another. The caller didn’t remain silent for long. Sensing that he had answered, the person spoke: “Zhou Jun, happy New Year.”

It was Yong Jin. He had waited on the line all this time, just to say, “Happy New Year.”

The silence that followed was heavy, full of things left unspoken. After a long pause, Zhou Jun finally said, “Come back alive.”

On the other end, the sound of breathing stopped abruptly.