EIP 77

Zhou Jun finished his cigarette in less than five minutes. Thinking about how Yong Jin had secretly kept his photo under the pillow, doing something only a young, love-struck boy would do, he couldn’t help but smile. He smiled so uncontrollably that his eyes narrowed, and his lips curved up. In Xiao Ren’s eyes, this expression was like ironclad proof. Clearly, this man claimed to have a fiancée but was having an affair with another.

Or perhaps he truly did have a fiancée, but was cheating on her with the powerful and influential young general. Thinking about Yong Jin’s appearance, Xiao Ren added, “He’s quite handsome, too.”

Xiao Ren didn’t particularly care about whether Zhou Jun was cheating or morally corrupt. He just felt that Zhou Jun wasn’t as impressive as before. He had once placed him on a pedestal, thinking about him day and night.

Now, all those pure, unattainable thoughts had faded, and Zhou Jun seemed much cheaper in his eyes, someone who could be slept with, as long as the opportunity arose. Xiao Ren thought cruelly but couldn’t ignore the jealousy rising in his chest. He had to step on Zhou Jun to feel better about himself. Xiao Ren spoke, “You and that young general have such a good relationship. He actually agreed to give us the medicine back.”

Zhou Jun gave Xiao Ren a faint glance, not wanting to cause trouble or make their relationship public. In response to Xiao Ren’s suggestive words, he simply smiled lightly without speaking. After finishing his cigarette, he began walking back to his tent.

Xiao Ren followed, asking if he had eaten and mentioning that some soldiers had delivered a bowl of braised noodles, which tasted decent. Zhou Jun politely replied, “I’ve already eaten.” Xiao Ren added, “You must have eaten with the young general, no wonder you took so long to come back.”

Zhou Jun stopped and turned around. Xiao Ren’s smug smile faded when he saw the displeasure and mockery in Zhou Jun’s eyes. Zhou Jun stepped closer, making Xiao Ren uneasy. He grabbed Xiao Ren’s chin and turned his face toward him. It was their first time this close, and Xiao Ren felt a mix of fear and excitement, a tingling sensation running through his scalp.

Zhou Jun coldly watched Xiao Ren’s mix of fear and anticipation, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “What are you trying to probe? Do you think my relationship with Young General Yong is something more than it seems?” Xiao Ren forced a smile. “Of course not. I just think you two have a really good relationship. I’m a little… envious.” Zhou Jun tightened his grip, making Xiao Ren’s chin ache, the skin reddening under his fingers. Zhou Jun lowered his gaze and murmured, “You still have some time to be on this journey with me. If you keep provoking me, I wouldn’t mind kicking you off right now.”

Xiao Ren knew the weight of Zhou Jun’s words. He had helped Boss Xu a lot during the journey, and everyone knew it. If Zhou Jun truly spoke up, Boss Xu might very well leave him behind.

Zhou Jun released his hold, turned away, and walked off. By the time he returned to Yong Jin’s room, his temper had cooled. After all, he was in a good mood now; just thinking of Yong Jin made him smile.

When Yong Jin came back to the room, Zhou Jun was already asleep. It was only when the oil lamp illuminated the room that Zhou Jun slowly began to wake. After he was fully awake, Yong Jin suggested they have a meal. Zhou Jun shook his head, preferring to go for a walk with him instead. The thought had been with him for a while, perhaps since that evening when he had ridden his bicycle, trying to catch up with Yong Jin’s car.

He longed to walk with him at night, strolling through busy streets. But now, there were no streets, only hills, one after another. The air was fresh, and the stars filled the sky. Zhou Jun casually found a patch of dry grass and lay down. Yong Jin sat beside him, reached into his collar, and pulled out a pocket watch. “I heard you have a fiancée. Is this your token?”

Zhou Jun was caught off guard for a moment. How could his casual remark have reached Yong Jin’s ears? But the surprise lasted only a second before he chuckled and replied, “Isn’t this from my mother-in-law?” Yong Jin laughed along, and the laughter lingered for a while before he stopped. He turned serious and said to Zhou Jun, “Don’t wait for me.”

The words hung in the air, and a silence fell between them. Zhou Jun closed his eyes for a long time, listening to the sound of the wind brushing through the leaves, rustling softly. Yong Jin’s words were too clear, making it impossible to pretend he hadn’t heard. He opened his eyes and saw Yong Jin gazing down at him, as though he had been watching him the whole time without looking away. Then he asked, “Is this what you want?”

Yong Jin shook his head. “Of course not… I want my name to be engraved on your heart forever, so deeply that even if you tried to erase it, you’d have to cut out a piece of flesh. But…” His tone was casual, yet there was a sincerity to it, a genuine feeling. The “but” at the end, however, signaled a shift. Yong Jin’s hand slid over Zhou Jun’s cheek, sending a soft, tingling sensation. “I can’t be so arrogant as to promise you a lifetime together. There’s no need to make you suffer.”

He continued, “Do you remember when we first separated? I knew you wouldn’t be upset for long, but it still angered me. Maybe it’s for the best, though. No one can be sure I’ll be among those who return home. And these days, I’ve learned that all too well.”

Many soldiers carried photos of their loved ones and letters they had written to them. If they were unfortunate enough to die in battle, these items would be sent back to their original addresses. The recipient’s emotions upon receiving them were almost unimaginable. At this moment, Yong Jin felt a sense of relief for the decision he had made at the beginning. Since he and Zhou Jun had lost the bridge of communication between them, he no longer had to worry about stabbing someone in the heart.

If he could survive and return, if he could win Zhou Jun back, then none of this would matter. But after this battle, there would be another, endless and unceasing. No one knew when the war would stop. He wasn’t a coward, unwilling to hide behind the fortresses built from the bodies of others. From the moment he began enjoying the privileges that came with his position, it was destined that in times of national crisis, there would be no room for retreat. This was his faith.

Driven by a strong sense of belief, he was not afraid of death, but he feared the thought of someone waiting for him.

His father, a strict military leader, had more than one son. When he learned of his relationship with Zhou Jun, he mocked him, saying, “Don’t think you can inherit everything from me. If you refuse to marry, then be prepared. I have more than one son.”

To his father, not bringing those women and children into the household and giving them formal recognition was a kindness to Yong Jin, his legitimate son. However, Yong Jin had now disappointed him, and he would no longer receive any special treatment.

His mother had died young, leaving only a soft warmth in his memories, and a kiss on his forehead before parting. He should have been unburdened by attachments, but then came Zhou Jun, an unexpected complication. When he firmly told himself he would never see Zhou Jun again, he truly meant it. Yet, the man still appeared before him, in a dangerous place, covered in yellow dirt, his face marked by a lingering panic.

In the end, he couldn’t stop himself. He knew he should have stayed silent. The words “I love you” should never have left his lips. He should have looked Zhou Jun in the eye, said “goodbye,” and let him go decisively. No promises, no lingering hopes. But deep inside, he was selfish. He wanted him, even if it meant hurting himself in the process.

He pulled Zhou Jun into his arms, kissed him with a desperation he couldn’t explain. He did everything he knew he shouldn’t, yet afterward, the only thing he could wish for was that Zhou Jun would truly leave.

“Don’t wait for me,” he whispered, the weight of those words settling between them.

But when he saw the fleeting spark in Zhou Jun’s eyes, he couldn’t ignore it. It quickly vanished, hidden behind closed eyelids as Zhou Jun turned away, hiding from his gaze.

A wave of doubt washed over him. Had he been fooling himself all along? He had taken away Zhou Jun’s chance to choose, yet he couldn’t stop reaching for him. He felt like a fool. This wasn’t a decision that could belong to just one person, was it? But still, he couldn’t make himself let go.

He heard Zhou Jun’s steady voice, laced with something sharp yet resigned. “Whether I wait for you or not, that’s for me to decide. If you don’t come back, I’ll find someone else. Don’t make me regret this.”