Chen Jian squatted inside the gazebo outside the guesthouse, holding Zhou Lecheng’s phone to read his post.
The time span of the post was quite long, starting nearly half a year ago. Back then, Zhou Lecheng’s illness had already metastasized to the bone; because it was discovered too late, very few viable treatment options remained…
Zhou Lecheng decided to give up on treatments that were painful and had almost no chance of improving his survival odds.
“After striving for so many years, I’ve decided to take a break—to truly experience the life I never properly got to enjoy during my remaining time, and to see the world I haven’t seen yet…”
“I want to take another look at the world of the living.”
The post had high engagement, with many people waiting daily to read his updates. If an update came late, people would even worry about his physical condition.
Chen Jian didn’t read it in detail; after all, this post stirred up a lot of memories for him.
His memories of his mother’s final days had grown blurred.
His mother had hardly ever left this place, had never experienced more of life, and had never been to a bigger world. In her final days, what she felt was the dual torment of physical pain and ever-accumulating debts to Qian Yu that could never be repaid.
Zhou Lecheng’s writing was very simple, without obvious emotional flair, consisting of the most straightforward descriptions.
“The seawater and sea breeze are sticky, feeling very much like summer. I dug a hole on the beach, and a kid helped bury me in it. I only lay there for twenty minutes before ‘rising from the dead,’ but on the third day I could still randomly feel sand on my skin…”
“The restaurant recommended by the driver was terrible. After a few bites I had it packed up, went back to the inn to wash it twice, and took it to feed a stray dog, but it didn’t eat it…”
“It’s raining. I don’t dare go out today. Right now I catch colds very easily. The state of my spirit wanting to rise while my body pulls downward is quite frustrating… Yesterday the medicine arrived, and I still decided to take it on schedule to avoid sudden urges to give up on this physical shell…”
Chen Jian guessed the “medicine” here referred to those anti-depression medications.
Hidden within these quiet, fragmented words was his pain.
Scrolling down over a dozen pages, Zhou Lecheng arrived at the small town.
“A man-made century-old ancient town whose actual age is less than ten years. Even if I don’t die of illness, it would probably be hard for me to wait until it genuinely reaches a century before I pass away…”
Chen Jian let out a faint laugh.
“Very interesting, this guesthouse is a bit like a bandit den…”
What on earth?
Chen Jian glanced at Zhou Lecheng.
“The guy who seems to be a security guard—and indeed should be one—looks like a bouncer. Not particularly skilled in combat, but the type who is very fearless in a fight… The manager looks like he possesses high combat power, difficult to mess with, with a very cold face… On the other hand, the girl with dreadlocks at the front desk gives the greatest sense of security, but she has a full-sleeve tattoo…”
Chen Jian hadn’t paid attention to these things before, but hearing them described by Zhou Lecheng, even he felt this place wasn’t running a legitimate business.
“Thrilling, my friends. A thief broke into the guesthouse today. In the middle of the night, the entire staff mobilized, and even over a dozen guests went out… It’s been a long time since I felt this kind of blood-pumping excitement… Regrettably I lacked the physical stamina; otherwise, I would have gone too…”
“Wandered around the shop today and ran into the boss… Has an injury on his leg, looking very much like a mastermind who retired from the underworld…”
Chen Jian frowned when he saw this sentence.
This should be that time when Zhou Lecheng was looking for a suicide room and got bumped into by him and Shan Yu.
If a post with such high engagement mentioned that two people had died in a room at Dayin, how big of a rumor would Shan Yu have to create for himself to suppress that story?
He quickly scanned through it several times and found that Zhou Lecheng hadn’t mentioned that matter at all.
In fact, only now did he notice that Zhou Lecheng hadn’t mentioned any specific details; the entire journey only had general locations, but down to which restaurant he ate at or which inn he stayed in, no names were ever brought up.
Chen Jian looked at Zhou Lecheng.
“Nobody knows specifically where I’ve been,” Zhou Lecheng said. “I want this trip to feel not so real to others, and I also hope it feels like a dream to me.”
Chen Jian remained silent.
Looking further down was the card-playing incident from that day.
“Came today to look at the view halfway up the mountain, pushed myself to the limit just to get up here, nearly exhausted myself to death…”
“Something completely unexpected happened. Just now, I played cards halfway up the mountain for over an hour with the cold-faced manager and his two brute henchmen… They were probably afraid I’d commit suicide…”
…Between Sanbing and Lao Wu, who knows who was which brute.
“There’s just one thing I want to discuss with you all now,” Zhou Lecheng said. “A lot of people feel this place is very fun, the scenery is beautiful, and think this guesthouse is very interesting and full of human warmth, so they want to know where it is.”
“Do you want to share it?” Chen Jian asked.
“I need to ask you all first,” Zhou Lecheng said. “Because bringing this out won’t attract purely tourists, so I don’t know if you’re willing.”
“Thank you,” Chen Jian said. “You’ve considered it very thoroughly.”
“Why don’t you guys discuss it among yourselves,” Zhou Lecheng said. “I want to say it… before I die, which should still take a while.”
“In other words, if our shop’s business suddenly explodes one day, it means Zhou Lecheng has died,” Sanbing said.
“You could put it that way,” Chen Jian said.
Sitting in the small living room of the staff dormitory, the few of them finished reading Zhou Lecheng’s post together, their moods all somewhat downcast.
“Thinking about it this way makes me feel so sad,” Hu Pan sighed softly.
“Yeah,” Zhao Fangfang wiped the corner of her eyes. “He’s actually a pretty good person.”
“They say the better a person is, the easier it is to get that illness—depression and all that,” Sanbing said. “The more you consider things for others, the easier it is to get sick.”
“Are you talking about Chen Jian?” Lao Wu asked.
“What the hell?” Chen Jian looked at him. “Has your brain leaked fluid?”
Sanbing picked up a large pack of spicy strips in his hand and slapped it onto Lao Wu’s head: “Short-circuited, huh!”
“Don’t hit, don’t hit,” Hu Pan laughed uncontrollably. “He’s praising the manager for being a good person.”
“Let’s put this matter aside for now, no rush,” Chen Jian stood up and grabbed his walkie-talkie. “We don’t need to act any differently either. He knows we know anyway. Let’s wait until Boss Shan comes back.”
“Mm,” Sanbing nodded, feeling somewhat emotional upon reflection. “You know, a really good person gets sick, while that cheating couple over there has nothing wrong with them…”
Sanbing had gone to inquire—there really was a passionately in love couple staying over there, the extremely intense kind who were constantly smooching whenever they appeared.
The woman on the second floor had definitely seen them already, but hadn’t taken action yet, probably still gathering evidence…
Chen Jian walked out of the staff dormitory, planning to do another patrol round before heading to the first floor, as he was on duty tonight.
Normally it should have been Hu Pan, but this was the first time since Dayin reopened that the boss wasn’t present, so he felt a bit uneasy.
Granted, even if the boss were in the shop, he would just be feigning sleep in his room and be of no use anyway…
Seeing the office at the end of the hallway, he paused in his tracks.
Standing at the top of the stairs for nearly ten seconds, he still walked over toward the office.
The office wasn’t locked; there was nothing important inside, and Shan Yu generally didn’t lock it.
Chen Jian did a circle around the room, closed the open window, and finally sat on the sofa, spacing out for a moment.
To be honest, his mood was somewhat low right now. Reading Zhou Lecheng’s travel records made him feel quite uncomfortable, stirring up many memories. Although they had no direct connection to Zhou Lecheng’s situation, many memories he never dared to think about were now reopened.
In the past, he would have wandered into the woods by himself, found a deserted spot to stay for a few hours, and suppressed it until it went away.
But today, he really wanted to talk with Shan Yu.
If Shan Yu were in the shop, after finishing his chat with Zhou Lecheng, he definitely would have come here first to share the matter with Shan Yu and hear his thoughts. Even if it didn’t involve his own emotions, his heart would feel much more at ease.
Chen Jian glanced at his phone; it was already very late.
This wasn’t an urgent matter either.
The boss probably wasn’t asleep, but he was definitely with his friends…
Would he be with friends?
He didn’t really know Shan Yu. Even after Shan Yu had told him about Fang Xu that day, he still didn’t understand Shan Yu. The person he knew, was familiar with, and could even predict the speech and actions of under certain circumstances was merely the boss of Dayin, Shan Yu.
Not the Shan Yu who was five hundred and twenty-seven kilometers away.
He let out a quiet sigh, put his phone back into his pocket, and stood up to leave the office.
“Are you going to sleep or not?” Yue Lang pulled out his pillow and tossed it onto Shan Yu.
“Can’t sleep,” Shan Yu leaned against the headboard, resting his head on his arms, looking at his phone. “I can’t sleep in unfamiliar beds, and I’m not used to having you sleep next to me either.”
“Then go sleep on the sofa,” Yue Lang rolled over. “Either keep your phone screen lit the whole time, or stop turning it on and off every few seconds.”
“I’m saving electricity,” Shan Yu said. “Why don’t you sleep on the sofa?”
“You think I want to squeeze into this lousy bed with you? I usually sleep on a two-hundred-square-meter king bed with my wife…” Yue Lang said.
“If she slapped you, she’d have to take a two-mile running start first,” Shan Yu said with a smile.
“Damn right,” Yue Lang sighed after finishing his sentence. “That lousy sofa in the living room is fucking crooked.”
“So if I sleep on it, it won’t be crooked anymore?” Shan Yu opened Chen Yu Luo Yan’s Moments; the man’s Moments page was completely blank, though private messaging was quite active.
Just like the man himself—on the surface, nothing could be seen, but in private he was quite…
Shan Yu looked at the brief and concise Chen Yu Luo Yan in the chat box.
Tsk.
Private messaging hadn’t been active with him either.
“You’re fucking strange yourself,” Yue Lang laughed halfway through his sentence. “Two negatives make a positive.”
Shan Yu laughed too, stuffed his phone into the gap between the mattress and the headboard, slid down, and lay down.
Although falling asleep was difficult, fortunately, after Yue Lang fell asleep, his breathing was very rhythmic—one, two, three, four, two, two, three, four. Listening to it into the late hours of the night, Shan Yu finally managed to fall asleep.
Perhaps worried that their boss would act alone and that Yue Lang wouldn’t be able to stop him single-handedly, Xiao Lu and Da Kang came over early in the morning carrying breakfast.
When Shan Yu was woken up, even his dream had only had time to start.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Seven ten,” Yue Lang answered while eating a fried dough stick.
“How did you manage to get up without external help?” Shan Yu got out of bed with a bit of helplessness.
“I go to work at eight-thirty, and the commute takes an hour between cursing and traffic,” Yue Lang said. “I’m not the boss.”
Shan Yu glanced at him: “Are you skipping work today?”
“I took my annual leave,” Yue Lang said.
“Fuck,” Shan Yu froze for a moment. “Can you still go home?”
“My annual leave is fifteen days. My wife said leaving ten days is enough; if it’s too long, looking at me gets annoying and makes it easy to get the urge for a divorce,” Yue Lang said.
“You…” Shan Yu stood up.
“He’s back,” Xiao Lu called out in a low voice from the living room. “Just walked in the door.”
Da Kang poked his head into the bedroom: “Shan Yu-ge.”
“Let’s go.” Shan Yu grabbed his jacket, put it on, and walked straight out.
“Finish breakfast first,” Yue Lang said.
Shan Yu scanned the breakfast on the table, reached out to grab a fried dough stick to hold in his mouth, opened the door, and walked out.
Yue Lang didn’t speak, gesturing with his head toward Xiao Lu and Da Kang. The two followed behind Shan Yu out the door, while Yue Lang walked over to grab a bottle of soy milk before closing the door to follow them downstairs.
Shan Yu was very familiar with this place; after all, it was a location he had visited countless times when he was young.
He stood inside the entryway of the building for a moment, looked up at the third-floor window opposite, finished the fried dough stick in his mouth, confirmed there was no one at the window, and pulled out a tissue to wipe his hands before stepping outside.
This was an old residential compound; most residents were elderly. The few young renters were either already off to work or hadn’t gotten out of bed yet, and the elderly hadn’t returned from their morning exercises, so the surroundings were very quiet.
Stepping into the stairwell of the opposite building, several people lightened their footsteps simultaneously.
The door on the third floor was closed. No one had lived in this house for many years, and it didn’t even have a security door installed—only an old-fashioned wooden door.
Nobody knocked. Xiao Lu pulled a small metal bar out from his pocket.
Shan Yu made a gesture indicating for him to step aside.
Xiao Lu hesitated for a moment, then stepped to the side.
This kind of wooden door was easy to pry open, and kicking it actually made very little noise.
Shan Yu raised his right leg and kicked hard against the door lock. The door emitted a muffled thud and burst violently inward.
The person standing inside didn’t have time to make any response, only swaying in shock and bewildered astonishment, instinctively looking out toward the door.
The moment their eyes met, the corners of Shan Yu’s mouth curled up.
Xiao Lu and Da Kang had already charged into the room the moment the door was kicked open.
Only then did Fang Xu remember to run, turning around to charge toward the window.
Da Kang grabbed his arm and yanked him back, holding him tightly on one side while Xiao Lu held the other, pinning him onto a nearby chair.
Shan Yu walked into the room at an unhurried pace only now. Behind him, Yue Lang closed the door and hooked his leg to slide a shoe-changing bench against the back of the door.
From the door kick until now, no one at the scene had said a single word. Even Fang Xu’s desperate struggles to escape were entirely silent.
Once the door closed, the room plunged into dead silence, broken only by Fang Xu’s somewhat heavy breathing.
“President Fang,” Shan Yu walked over and stood in front of him.
Fang Xu raised his head to look at him, then turned his head to glare at Yue Lang, asking in a hoarse voice: “Are you fucking tracking me?!”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Yue Lang clicked his tongue. “I’m a busy corporate elite in an office building; who has the time to care about your petty mess?”
Fang Xu turned his head back to look at Shan Yu again, staying silent for a moment: “Shan Yu, what do you mean by this?”
“What do you think?” Shan Yu looked back at him. “Catching up on old times.”
“Cut the crap,” Fang Xu said. “Isn’t it just because I went to your place…”
Before he could finish speaking, Shan Yu delivered a backhand slap straight across his face.
This slap was very heavy; Fang Xu was knocked sharply to the side, and if Xiao Lu and Da Kang hadn’t been holding him down, he would have been slapped directly onto the floor.
“You know, yet you still ask,” Shan Yu rubbed his wrist, speaking at a steady pace. “We’re so familiar with each other, what are you pretending for?”
“I just went to apologize,” Fang Xu said, turning his head to spit onto the floor, blood at the corner of his mouth.
“Apologize for which thing?” Shan Yu asked. “My three-year sentence, or my leg?”
“I didn’t know about your leg,” Fang Xu said. “When your leg was injured, I was still inside!”
“True enough,” Shan Yu smiled faintly.
“Shan Yu, let’s not drag other people into our business,” Fang Xu looked at Xiao Lu and Da Kang. “You said before that you hope everyone walks the straight path in the future…”
“Almost forgot.” Shan Yu raised his chin toward Xiao Lu and Da Kang.
Xiao Lu and Da Kang glanced at each other, somewhat hesitant.
“Let go,” Yue Lang said from the side.
The two released Fang Xu’s arms and stepped back to the side.
Fang Xu raised his hand to touch his face. Just as he was about to speak, Shan Yu delivered a kick straight to his stomach, sending him and the chair crashing backward against the wall together.
“What are you doing!” Fang Xu clutched his stomach and shouted.
“Now it’s just between the two of us. Get up,” Shan Yu’s voice sank. “I’ll give you a half-leg handicap.”
Fang Xu didn’t speak. He stood up slowly, leaned against the wall gasping for air for a moment, and suddenly turned around to run toward the bedroom.
Shan Yu picked up the chair and hurled it across.
The chair struck Fang Xu square in the back, knocking him into the bedroom where he collapsed onto the floor.
Shan Yu followed him inside. Just as Fang Xu pushed himself up from the floor attempting to climb up, Shan Yu had already planted a foot firmly on Fang Xu’s back, pressing him back down to the floor.
“Shan Yu!” Fang Xu struggled, trying to rise from under his foot, his hand reaching toward his pants pocket.
Shan Yu didn’t say a word. He planted another foot on his wrist, neatly pulled the knife out from his pocket, then pressed his neck down with one hand while reaching over to yank the quilt off the bed with the other, using the quilt to smother Fang Xu against the floor amidst his continuous struggles.
The very next second, with his knee pressing against Fang Xu’s back, the knife held in his hand plunged down without a moment’s hesitation.
“Fuck!” Yue Lang rushed inside.
