This was the moment Ji Yu first appeared at the departure scene.
With his sister showing up right at the starting line, what else could Ji Xun do? He had no choice but to bring her along.
The moment they got into the car and temporarily escaped Ji Yu’s line of sight, Ji Xun immediately grabbed Meng Fushan, demanding to know what on earth was going on. It would have been one thing if he hadn’t given Meng Fushan a heads-up beforehand, but he had clearly coordinated everything perfectly. They had even spent days chatting in cipher code leading up to this. Why, at the absolute critical moment, was he being served this kind of plot twist?
Meng Fushan initially put on his usual deadpan expression and remained silent. Only after a while did he speak up, telling Ji Xun to show a little sibling affection: “You’re actually looking for a challenge. What, do you expect Ji Yu to turn into a backpack, cling to your body, and serve as extra weight for you?”
Ji Xun was so angry he laughed, nearly rolling up his sleeves to have a thorough debate with Meng Fushan about where exactly he lacked sibling affection—unfortunately, just as Meng Fushan finished that sentence, Ji Yu materialized right behind him.
Consequently, Ji Xun received another look of pure disdain from his sister, after which Meng Fushan was pulled away by her.
Ji Xun had his back turned to his sister, so he hadn’t seen her, but Meng Fushan was facing him directly and must have spotted her. So, did Meng Fushan intentionally say those words only after his sister arrived? Was he deliberately sabotaging their sibling relationship?
Ji Xun’s mind was filled with utter perplexity. That guy Meng Fushan was definitely a bit unhinged!
“Beep beep!”
Accompanied by a sharp honk from behind, a sports car flashed past Ji Xun’s car like a streak of lightning, the low rumble of its engine sounding like a series of muffled coughs.
Thinking back to the past, Ji Xun smiled unconsciously, but the smile quickly withered away in the chilly night wind.
Back then, he had never connected his sister and Meng Fushan together in that way, which was why his mind had been filled with such foolish confusion. If he had just thought about it a bit more carefully back then, he would have understood Meng Fushan’s true feelings for Ji Yu.
But at that time, he and Meng Fushan were simply too close. When he looked at his sister from his own perspective, he naturally assumed Meng Fushan viewed her from the exact same brotherly perspective.
Meng Fushan did so many things; he just never spoke about them. And some things, once left unsaid, lose the opportunity to be spoken forever.
His sister had a bright and cheerful personality. No matter where she went, she could blend into a group in a remarkably short amount of time. In modern terms, she was a natural-born social butterfly. Thanks to her, whether it was lodging or dining, Ji Xun and Meng Fushan could always score a small discount to save some money. The locals would even occasionally gift them local specialties to try.
Taking on a hiking challenge with his sister might have lacked a certain hardcore edge, but traveling and vacationing with her was undoubtedly an immensely joyful experience. Consequently, that small bout of frustration in the car naturally dissolved beneath the high, azure sky and his sister’s radiant smile.
For the first few days of the trip, they slept in separate rooms. His sister’s room was right next to theirs. When they checked in, Ji Xun had deliberately tested it out—the walls were thin, so if anything happened, a single shout from next door could be heard perfectly clearly on their side. The security level was exceptionally high.
But when it came time to actually climb the mountain, the conditions were no longer this luxurious.
Before the trek up the mountain, they opted to find an obscure spot recommended by a local to watch the sunrise. On the day they went, there wasn’t a single soul around. They stood atop a massive, rounded boulder, which offered a panoramic view of the entire city and the distant, undulating mountain ranges.
The sky was faintly illuminated, but the sun hadn’t emerged yet, with a few sheets of gray-and-white clouds drifting across the sky.
Within less than five minutes of sitting down, Ji Yu began to yawn. Traveling was a highly exhausting activity, so Ji Xun wasn’t surprised at all by her sleepiness. When Ji Yu finished her third long yawn and subsequently, as a matter of course, tilted her head to rest against his shoulder to sleep—Ji Xun wasn’t surprised by that either.
He could even read her mind as she fell asleep so brazenly: Anyway, my brother will definitely wake me up when the sun comes out. Sleeping now is just an efficient use of time.
He served as a human cushion for Ji Yu to lean on for a while. Feeling a bit stiff after a bit, he propped his sleeping sister back upright.
His sister possessed a special talent: she could sleep while sitting perfectly upright. This skill had been developed during her childhood. When she was little, her health was relatively frail, and she was always sleep-deprived. Even when she went to kindergarten, she could fall asleep while sitting up. Because she slept so obediently and maintained her posture so perfectly, she was frequently called out and praised by her teachers in class.
Looking back now, Ji Yu’s excessive sleepiness during childhood was likely caused by a weak heart and myocardial ischemia. But back then, he had never suspected anything of the sort. In fact, he only realized it later because Meng Fushan reminded him that Ji Yu had undergone surgery. He had always believed he understood his parents and understood Ji Yu; sometimes, what one believes is merely self-righteous assumption.
He propped his sleeping sister straight, moving her position slightly further away from the cliff edge to prevent her from inadvertently plunging into the abyss if she rolled over in her sleep. While he was doing this, Meng Fushan watched from the side in silence, his mind preoccupied with who knows what.
Giving Meng Fushan a quick word, Ji Xun wandered off on his own to stretch his limbs. By the time he completed his loop and returned, not much time had passed—about ten minutes or so. When he got back, he saw Ji Yu slumped against Meng Fushan’s shoulder, fast asleep.
Pitiably, he didn’t think anything of it at the time. He even stepped forward to help, rescuing the innocent Meng Fushan from beneath Ji Yu’s head. Then, he stacked their two backpacks together and wedged them beside Ji Yu so she could hold onto them while she slept.
Having finished all this, Ji Xun looked at his sister, who showed absolutely no signs of waking up, and sighed with emotion:
“The way she looks when she sleeps…”
“Is quite cute,” Meng Fushan said.
“Like a pig,” Ji Xun finished.
The two men, speaking simultaneously, stared at each other.
Ji Xun justified his own logic: “A suckling pig is indeed quite cute, and it tastes pretty good too.”
Meng Fushan let out an ambiguous grunt.
Not long after, the sun was about to rise. They woke Ji Yu up, and together they watched the long-awaited sunrise.
The sunrise that day was stunning. The sea of clouds surged violently, and the golden light blazed brilliantly. They watched the sun’s rays first bubble up from the peak like a mountain spring, then transform into a long river, then a great grand river, and finally into an unceasing, boundless ocean of light. The celestial waters poured down, covering the mountain peaks, covering the earth, and covering him, Meng Fushan, and Ji Yu.
After watching the sunrise, they began their ascent.
Ji Xun had already forgotten the specific details of the climb. He only recalled that his original plan was to walk in the middle so he could pull his sister up from time to time. But somehow, he ended up taking the lead, leaving Meng Fushan in the middle to pull his sister up at intervals. Midway through, he had tried to take over Meng Fushan’s shift, only to be rejected by Ji Yu, who complained that he was too rough and didn’t like him pulling her.
The ultimate result was Ji Yu following Meng Fushan, while he shouldered the luggage alone to face the challenge. Well… so be it.
With Meng Fushan patiently assisting Ji Yu the entire way, the duration of their trek was naturally much slower than originally anticipated, but Ji Yu truly managed to reach the summit alongside them.
Reaching the summit, the sky felt right before their eyes.
He remembered how incredibly ecstatic Ji Yu was at that moment, hopping around the mountain like a rabbit. He watched from the side, and Meng Fushan also watched with his arms crossed. To his surprise, after running a lap, Ji Yu suddenly dashed over to hug him, and then gave Meng Fushan a hug as well. He was caught off guard by his sister’s momentum and staggered back a step, and Meng Fushan’s crossed arms were forced open too.
At the very end on the summit, they took many photos. In one of them, Ji Yu hid behind the two of them, holding up two fingers to form peace signs right above his and Meng Fushan’s heads.
Peace (＾－＾)V!
The sky was dimly breaking.
When one is immersed in memories, it’s impossible to feel the passage of time. Perhaps it’s because every time he recalled Ji Yu and his parents before the tragedy, the bustling, lively tapestry of life would wash over him, pulling him entirely into its fold.
Throughout their lives, humans search for their anchor in the world. Family is mankind’s first and final anchor.
Ji Xun drove his car off the highway and pulled up to a 24-hour bookstore. Inside, he purchased a copy of the Xinhua Dictionary. Returning to his car, he began translating Meng Fushan’s letter.
However, the translated sentences still formed a completely meaningless phrase. Had he deciphered it incorrectly?
Ji Xun’s brows knitted tightly together. Impossible.
He flipped through the Xinhua Dictionary once more, falling into deep thought for a moment. Suddenly, a realization struck him. Ignoring the corresponding characters entirely, he pieced together the page numbers where each character was located, forming an 11-digit string.
He dialed the number.
After a few breaths of waiting, the call connected on the other end.
Meng Fushan’s displeased voice came through: “Why are you calling me from your own phone?”
The overlap of memory and reality caused Ji Xun to space out for a fraction of a second.
“Ji Xun?” Meng Fushan called out again, his voice dropping slightly, like a predator beginning to gather its strength.
“…Don’t worry so much, no one is wiretapping my phone,” Ji Xun snapped out of it, speaking up to put Meng Fushan’s mind at ease.
“Not right now, but what about in the future?”
“Go get your paranoia treated,” Ji Xun closed his eyes, his tone adopting a casual, careless drawl. “If you have something to say, say it. Don’t waste time.”
“Is it just my paranoia? It looks to me like you’re laying the groundwork for Huo Ranyin to collect evidence and investigate later.”
“Before I answer that, you answer me first—did you kill Chen Jiashu?” Ji Xun questioned.
“I thought that matter was blindingly obvious,” Meng Fushan replied. “Of course not.”
“Words alone are no proof…” Ji Xun murmured.
“Enough, we can talk about that kind of thing later,” Meng Fushan seemed to grow impatient. “The only reason I looked for you is to tell you—I found it.”
Meng Fushan’s voice felt like a heavy sledgehammer, crashing violently against Ji Xun’s chest. Ji Xun’s heart swayed alongside his thoughts.
He listened as Meng Fushan continued: “Ji Xun, you have to help me.”
“Naturally,” Ji Xun steadied his mind. “Of course I will. Tell me the specific details first.”
“Only you,” Meng Fushan ignored Ji Xun’s request, driving straight forward. “Just you alone, and me alone. No one else. Not even Huo Ranyin, who is currently with you.”
“Why?” Ji Xun asked.
“Ji Xun, you always want to drag the police into this. Have you truly forgotten?” Meng Fushan said. A prolonged silence stretched across the line. Ji Xun couldn’t comprehend what Meng Fushan was implying, until Meng Fushan coldly delivered the final blow.
“Forgotten the fact that you once killed someone?”
