APR 10

At nine o’clock the next morning, the sky had long been bright, with brilliant sunlight piercing the indigo sky and streaming through the gaps in the curtains, landing squarely on Zhong Su’s eyelids.

Zhong Su mumbled uncomfortably in his sleep, instinctively turning over to evade the irritating light, but forgot about his injury.

As soon as he shifted his body, his full weight pressed firmly onto his wounded arm.

A sharp pain instantly shot through him, jolting Zhong Su awake. He gasped and opened his eyes: “…Damn.”

Zhong Su sat up and checked the bandaged area. Relieved to find no signs of bleeding, he sighed. Fortunately, Chen Huan had wrapped it tightly enough that even such pressure hadn’t caused the wound to reopen.

Just then, a knock came from outside the door, followed by Chen Huan’s indifferent voice: “Su Er, are you awake? Come out for breakfast.”

Zhong Su roughly smoothed his bangs and replied hoarsely: “Coming.”

He stepped barefoot onto the floor, went into the bathroom to wash up, then changed into the outfit he’d selected the night before.

Sliding his hand into his pocket, his fingertips brushed against the thick stack of bills at the bottom. Confirming they were safely tucked away, the anxiety about the uncertain journey in his chest eased slightly.

As long as he had money, things couldn’t get too difficult.

“Morning.” Zhong Su walked into the living room and immediately spotted a bowl of pork liver congee on the coffee table. Emerald green scallions sprinkled over the thick porridge surface, with tendrils of steam still rising.

Chen Huan sat on the sofa, holding a pen and making marks on a spread-out map.

Zhong Su looked puzzled and asked Chen Huan: “I remember we didn’t have fresh pork liver at home. Did you specially go out to buy congee?”

Chen Huan answered bluntly: “Who has time for that? Shou Hou bought it and delivered it. Come sit and eat. The car’s coming at twelve-thirty – we’ll take it to the pier, then transfer to a boat crossing to Qiyan Island.”

Having previously helped others arrange escapes to small islands, Chen Huan was familiar with the process and had smoothly handled all the arrangements for himself this time.

The safe house location was sensitive information within their organization, so Zhong Su didn’t inquire further. He knew Chen Huan’s working style – what he needed to know would be volunteered without asking; what he shouldn’t know wouldn’t be revealed even partially.

Zhong Su lowered his head and spooned some congee into his mouth. The rice porridge with the distinctive meaty freshness of pork liver warmed his throat, making him feel considerably more revitalized.

After finishing about half the bowl, Zhong Su suddenly remembered and asked Chen Huan: “Aren’t you having breakfast?”

Chen Huan glanced at him while continuing to draw lines on the map: “You eat. Everything on the table is specially saved for you.”

Zhong Su fell silent, his gaze sweeping past the corner where Chen Huan’s black suitcase stood neatly packed and waiting.

He quickened his pace, finishing the remaining congee in several mouthfuls, then hurriedly packed a suitcase himself, stuffing in several changes of clothes, towels, and other daily necessities. Midway through, Chen Huan noticed his difficulty with one hand and helped fold several garments.

By the time they finished organizing everything, it was quickly twelve-thirty.

A Santana sedan promptly entered the residential compound, silently parking in the shade along the roadway. The car body was painted in an inconspicuous gray-blue, with all four windows tinted tea-colored – making it impossible to see the occupants from outside.

The driver efficiently pushed the door open and stepped out – a man with a crew cut and shrewd eyes.

He quickly strode over to Chen Huan, bowed his head respectfully, and spoke in a loud, deferential voice: “Brother Chen, Xiao Zhong Ge, Wen Sheng specifically instructed me to come and see you both off.”

With keen awareness, he picked up the suitcases nearby: “Are these two suitcases the only luggage? I’ll load them into the trunk. Please have a seat in the car first.”

“Much obliged.” Chen Huan’s expression remained neutral, but he politely offered the driver a cigarette.

The driver thanked him, tucked the cigarette behind his ear, and smiled: “No need for formalities. I’m hardly worthy of such consideration, I’m just carrying out Wen Sheng’s tasks.”

Clearly experienced in such matters, the driver remained silent throughout the journey, asking no unnecessary questions, and smoothly drove them to the pier where he dropped off both men and their luggage.

Sunlight glinted off the boats docked at the pier. The freshly scrubbed deck was still damp and shimmering with water, steaming with the salty moisture of the sea.

To avoid drawing attention, Chen Huan and Zhong Su boarded a ferry to Seven Rocks Island.

The ferry’s deck was crowded with tourists carrying cameras and wearing sun hats, noisily discussing their itineraries.

The bandage wrapped around Zhong Su’s forearm stood out conspicuously. Combined with Chen Huan’s imposing presence beside him, nearly six feet tall with a golden-brown complexion and sharp, intense features that clearly marked him as someone outside respectable society, their appearance caused an immediate reaction.

The moment they stepped onto the deck, the boisterous crowd fell into an eerie silence, as if someone had pressed a mute button. Several middle-aged women who had been posing for photos froze, shrinking their necks and exchanging glances while whispering among themselves, their eyes repeatedly darting toward the two men.

Zhong Su, long accustomed to such wary scrutiny, showed no expression and walked directly toward a less crowded spot by the railing.

As soon as they sat down, an older man nearby frowned in disgust, shifting away while muttering to his companion: “What kind of ferry is this? How did such lowlifes get onboard…”

“Look at that guy’s hand, tsk. You can practically smell the blood from here. Definitely from a knife wound, decent people don’t end up like that. Must be karma for causing trouble!”

Chen Huan’s eyebrow twitched, his sharp gaze sweeping over as he let out a cold laugh and began to rise.

Zhong Su pressed a hand on the displeased Chen Huan’s shoulder, turning to address the man. His voice was calm but clear: “Uncle, no need to be so unpleasant. We all bought tickets to board. At best, we’re strangers; at worst, how I injured my hand is none of your business.”

He paused briefly before adding coolly, “I haven’t harmed your family, nor did I sneak aboard. Let’s all board and disembark quietly, it’s better for everyone.”

The older man, embarrassed by the retort, raised his voice: “Wh-what? Threatening to kill my family? I’ve been through worse since I was a kid! A little punk like you—go ahead and try if you dare! I’ve never been afraid!”

He jutted his chin out, pointing a finger at Zhong Su with a bravado that suggested he feared nothing.

With someone so unreasonable, there was no need to hold back.

Zhong Su expressionlessly withdrew his hand from Chen Huan’s shoulder.

Chen Huan stood up, his tall, imposing frame casting an immediate shadow over the older man.

A smirk tugged at Chen Huan’s lips: “If your mouth can’t speak decent words, then it’s better to keep it shut.”

“Help…!”

Before Uncle could cry out “Help!”, Chen Huan had already seized him by the collar, lifting him bodily with one hand.

“Ah! What are you doing?! There are so many people watching, I’m warning you, don’t lay a hand on me…!” Uncle kicked his legs wildly, trying to pry Chen Huan’s grip loose, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t break free.

Without a word, Chen Huan dragged him straight across the deck. Amidst the gasps and fearful stares from the onlookers, he slammed the man’s face against the railing.

Thump! A dull sound echoed as the man’s nose bridge bruised, blood immediately gushing out and smearing across half his face.

Chen Huan said with utter indifference, “You love making noise, don’t you? I’ll grant your wish—go down into the sea and make all the noise you want.”

He tightened his grip on the man’s collar and, with a surge of strength, actually began to hoist the hundred-plus-pound man over the railing toward the sea.

“Ahhh—don’t throw me! I was wrong, I admit it! Isn’t that enough?! Let me go!” Uncle clung desperately to the railing, too terrified to loosen his grip even an inch. Staring at the churning waves beyond the ship, he wept in terror, snot and tears mingling. “No, young man! Uncle can’t swim! If I drown, you won’t get off easy either—you’ll have to pay with your life!”

The crew members rushed forward, stepping between them to intervene. “Both of you, calm down! Don’t be impulsive. Let’s talk this out properly, no need to take things this far.”

“Right. Whoever’s at fault should just apologize. There’s no need for violence.”

The ferry was stranded in the vast sea; throwing someone overboard would not only delay the journey but, worse, could lead to a fatal accident, and no one would benefit from that.

Uncle wailed, “Stop him quickly! I can’t swim!”

Chen Huan snorted in disdain and tossed the man aside like garbage. “Giving up already? Weren’t you so arrogant just a moment ago?”

He crouched down, patting the man’s sweaty face in a humiliating manner, a mocking curve to his brows and eyes. “If you’re afraid to die, then learn to control your tongue. Stop running your mouth.”

Uncle trembled visibly, flushed with shame and anger, but he didn’t dare retort, terrified that Chen Huan might resort to violence again at the slightest provocation.

After this incident, no passenger dared to sit near Chen Huan and Zhong Su, avoiding them as if they were harbingers of misfortune. The once-crowded deck now had a vacant circle around them, as if cordoned off.

Chen Huan returned to Zhong Su’s side and sat down, stretching his long legs comfortably. “Got rid of the nuisance. Much quieter now.”

Zhong Su agreed, “It is better, no noise, no crowding. Plenty of space to sit now.”

He gazed out at the sea. The ferry had already left the dock, and the buildings and figures on the shore grew hazy, merging into a blurry, gray silhouette.

Wave after wave crashed against the hull, the sound of the sea layering with the warm breeze that brushed against their faces. Gradually, drowsiness set in.

After some time, Chen Huan suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. He glanced down to find Zhong Su had unconsciously fallen asleep, leaning against him.

The handsome young man breathed evenly, his nostrils fluttering faintly with each breath, his eyelashes casting a soft shadow beneath his eyes.

Chen Huan stared at that shadow for a moment, then, after a brief thought, stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. He leaned his head against Zhong Su’s, resting against him, and closed his eyes to rest.

…

When the ferry docked, it hit a reef, jolting the vessel violently and startling Zhong Su awake.

Zhong Su opened his eyes to find it was already dusk, the sky stained with ashen purple twilight. Chen Huan’s profile was submerged in the gloom, a cigarette resting between his lips, its orange ember precisely tracing the sharp yet handsome line of his jaw.

Rubbing his numb cheek, Zhong Su asked with sleep still clinging to his voice, “Chen Huan, where has the boat reached?”

Chen Huan turned and ruffled his hair haphazardly. “You woke up just in time. We’re disembarking.”

As the boat’s crackling intercom announced, “Please check your carry-on luggage and disembark in an orderly manner,” Chen Huan and Zhong Su hoisted their suitcases and followed the crowd down the gangway.

Qiyan Island’s terrain was rugged, lacking the bustle of Yangang Port. Only a small fishing village dotted the island, its hundred-odd household lights scattered sparsely along the coastline like stars carelessly cast ashore.