He Chu San stepped through the doors of Xiao Qi Hall’s “head office” with a briefcase in hand, dressed in a suit and leather shoes, looking polished and composed. He nodded with a smile to the security guards at the entrance and headed toward the elevators with easy familiarity. Two junior bosses stood inside, there to make their routine reports to Big Sister. Both were broad-shouldered and sturdy, with fierce features—the very picture of classic young gangsters. The moment He Chu San stepped in, they turned doubtful, assessing eyes on the handsome, refined young man who was obviously not one of their kind.
He Chu San curved his lips and returned them a smile as warm as spring.
The two junior bosses were left utterly baffled by that smile, unable to make heads or tails of him. Then they saw him press the button for the floor where the executive office was located. Figuring he might be one of Big Sister’s relatives, they cautiously withdrew their gazes and stopped provoking him.
The elevator doors opened on the executive-office floor. The two junior bosses stepped out, still thoroughly confused. They passed three layers of bodyguards along the way, and every guard merely nodded at them without stopping He Chu San. In truth, none of Cui Dong Dong’s bodyguards recognized him. But seeing him follow closely behind the two bosses with such an open, self-assured manner, they naturally assumed he was an attendant the pair had brought with them and did not question him.
He Chu San made it all the way to Cui Dong Dong’s office without obstruction. It was next door to Xia Liu Yi’s former office; rather than taking over his room, she had simply cleared out the one beside it for herself. The two junior bosses nodded to the bodyguard outside, and one raised a hand to knock.
“Big Sister! It’s A’Qiang!”
“Come in.”
The two junior bosses pushed open the door and walked in. He Chu San followed them just as naturally. Cui Dong Dong was seated behind her desk looking through a stack of documents. She raised her head absently, then nearly jumped. “Why are you here?!”
“Me? I came with Brother Qiang,” the other junior boss hurriedly answered.
“I mean the one behind you two!” Cui Dong Dong pointed. “How the hell did he get in without anyone announcing him? Don’t tell me you two know him?”
The two junior bosses stared at He Chu San in astonishment. He Chu San smiled faintly again. Humiliated into anger by that smile, the pair immediately rolled up their sleeves and grabbed him from either side. “Who the hell are you, kid?!” “What are you sneaking in here for?!”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Cui Dong Dong hurriedly shouted. “Get your paws off him! Do you two have a death wish? Get out!”
After chasing out the two idiots too blind to recognize their own Sister-in-law, Cui Dong Dong motioned for He Chu San to sit on the sofa and tossed him a cigar.
“I don’t smoke, Sister Dong Dong.”
“Want some red wine?”
“No, thank you, Sister Dong Dong.”
“You don’t smoke and you don’t drink. What are you doing here? Coming just to annoy me?”
He Chu San smiled, set his briefcase on her desk, and pulled out a stack of documents. “Does Sister Dong Dong remember the project you invested in with me at the beginning of the year? These are the reports for the past six months.”
Cui Dong Dong took them and flipped through the pages, her expression gradually turning to surprise.
“An eighty-percent return in two quarters? That’s impossible! How did you do it?”
“A lot of hot money poured into this sector this year, so it grew quickly. Sister Dong Dong was lucky. But if you want us to keep working together, I’d like to discuss one condition.”
Cui Dong Dong chuckled in delight. Folding her arms, she leaned back in her chair. “I knew you had some little scheme hidden away when you first came to me. Go on, little fox.”
He Chu San lowered his eyes with a faint smile. When he looked up again, his gaze was sincere. “Sister Dong Dong, I want to become the general manager of your new company.”
“Huh?” Cui Dong Dong stared at him. “What new company?”
“I want to develop the shell company you set up for the investment project into an investment-management company completely independent from Xiao Qi Hall’s other businesses. I’ll take full responsibility for operations. We’ll split the shares twenty-eighty. You only need to provide the startup capital, then sit back and collect the returns. On top of that, I want to serve as an external investment consultant for your head office. You’ll sign a cooperation agreement with me, and I’ll provide consulting and planning services for any legitimate business under Xiao Qi Hall. My data team and I have worked with several large publicly listed companies. You can rest easy.”
Cui Dong Dong studied him, cigar between her lips as she exhaled smoke and thought. She had already guessed what this little bastard from Xia Liu Yi’s household was plotting—he was going around in circles trying to help Xiao Qi Hall transform itself. That kind of wishful thinking and acting on his own initiative instinctively made her want to refuse. But the profits this little god of wealth could bring were real. Every gleaming number on those reports was money. Her brothers spent their days fighting and killing, licking blood from the blade—wasn’t it all so they could share both hardship and fortune? If there was money sitting right in front of her and she refused to make it, had this chief manager’s brain been caught in a door?
“Does Liu Yi know about this?”
“Why does he need to know so much?” The little bastard answered with complete confidence. “When it comes to money, isn’t Sister Dong Dong the one who understands it best?”
Chief Manager Cui, Deputy Hall Master Cui—his flattery had scored a perfect ten. Yet she laughed silently to herself. She knew He Chu San was trying to tempt her with profit so he could do something behind Xia Liu Yi’s back. But was she really so easy for him to manipulate?
“Sammy Boy, you have your conditions. I have mine.”
“Please tell me, Sister Dong Dong.”
“Society rules say that if you haven’t joined the society, you can’t hold an important post. If you want to be general manager, you’ll have to bow before the altar and join us—become a gangster.”
He Chu San lowered his eyes and considered it for a moment. When he looked up again, his gaze was still sincere.
“All right.”
At home, Father He was squinting as he hummed a little tune and cut paper window decorations when he suddenly let out a tremendous sneeze. He raised his head and looked toward the gloomy window thick with clouds. The panes rattled back and forth with a clack-clack.
The wind had risen. Rain was coming. The clouds were being torn apart and driven toward the horizon by the wind, utterly unaware of where fate would eventually carry them.
…
The bar stood on Lockhart Road, a quiet little place tucked away on a street corner and frequented mostly by regulars. The owner had recently immigrated to Australia and transferred the business to his nephew. The new owner had kept the old decor and bartender, and even the saxophone piece the Black musician played softly on the tiny stage was the same as before.
The fine, steady evening rain did nothing to disturb the pleasant mood of the people who had come to drink. Men and women sat by the windows, watching the rain and chatting idly, relaxed and at ease.
The photo wall above the bar was covered with pictures left by old and new customers, handwritten postcards, and vows signed by lovers. Lu Guang Ming lounged against the counter, idly turning his glass and staring into space, completely unaware of the person approaching behind him.
“Investigator Lu.”
Lu Guang Ming turned, narrowed his eyes, and smiled. “Inspector Xie. I’ve been waiting an hour. I thought you weren’t coming.”
Xie Jia Hua held his coat over one arm, every button of his shirt fastened neatly, the shoulders damp from the fine rain. He had just finished working overtime at the police station and had walked over. He regarded Lu Guang Ming indifferently, making no move to sit. “What is it? Say it.”
Lu Guang Ming pulled out a chair for him and ordered two beers. “What’s the rush? I contributed to getting Xia Liu Yi thrown in prison, didn’t I? Inspector Xie can’t even buy me a drink to show a little appreciation?”
Xie Jia Hua took out his wallet, drew out a banknote, and pressed it onto the counter. “Thank you for ridding the public of a menace, Investigator Lu. Enjoy your drink.” Then he turned to leave.
“Hey!” Lu Guang Ming called loudly from the bar. “Don’t tell me you really think I coaxed you here just for a drink. Back then, I fell for you at first sight right here, and you seduced me only to toss me aside. How are you going to settle that account?”
The few customers in the bar all turned to look. Xie Jia Hua strode back, shoved Lu Guang Ming against the counter with one hand, and said in a low voice, “Cut the crap.”
Lu Guang Ming chuckled. “I saw your picture here just now. Ah, the flower of youth. You used to come here often?”
Xie Jia Hua held him by the back of the neck, his face cold. “I’m not in the mood to waste words with you. You said on the phone that this had to do with a case. If you have something to say, say it. If not, get lost.”
Lu Guang Ming narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Of course I have something to say. But Inspector Xie, have a drink with me first.”
Xie Jia Hua threw him aside and turned to leave again. Lu Guang Ming spoke behind him.
“It has to do with Tang Jia Qi.”
Xie Jia Hua’s steps halted. He drew several deep breaths, then suddenly whirled around and struck with his palm. Lu Guang Ming ducked his head and nimbly avoided it. When Xie Jia Hua followed with another punch, Lu Guang Ming hurriedly crossed both arms to block.
Seeing the savage look in Xie Jia Hua’s eyes and the merciless force behind his attacks, Lu Guang Ming realized he was genuinely angry and hurried to explain. “It’s true, it’s true. It’s about his case from nine years ago. I have a lead.”
Xie Jia Hua’s expression changed, though distrust remained in his eyes. After forcing himself to hold back for several seconds, he finally released Lu Guang Ming with a dark face. Having escaped the beating, Lu Guang Ming was neither shaken nor angry. He straightened his clothes, picked up the fallen stool, sat down again, and sighed with a faint smile. “So violent, Inspector Xie. Is your opinion of me really that bad? Every sentence out of my mouth is a lie?”
He placed the two miraculously unharmed beers in front of Xie Jia Hua and smiled. “It’s not as if I lied about everything, Inspector Xie. I really did know Tang Jia Qi. When I was little and living in a welfare home, he came there as a volunteer. He and I… had met. Tang Jia Qi died under mysterious circumstances nine years ago. Within the ICAC, his case has always remained unsolved. After I joined the service, I became very interested in it and sought out the senior officer who had handled the internal investigation back then. He believed Tang Jia Qi had secretly been investigating a corruption case and stumbled onto an important lead, which was why he was silenced. He went through every piece of internal ICAC material Tang Jia Qi had accessed but found nothing. Inspector Xie, you haven’t given up on the case all these years either, have you? You reached the same conclusion as that senior officer, but you found nothing too. Right?”
Xie Jia Hua silently stared at the glass of beer. At last, he picked it up.
“Have you ever considered that what Tang Jia Qi was investigating might not have been an ICAC case at all, but one from your Major Crimes Unit? That could be why he was in such frequent contact with you back then.”
The glass in Xie Jia Hua’s hand paused. He slowly swallowed the large mouthful of beer he had been holding, set down the glass, and looked at Lu Guang Ming.
“Tang Jia Qi might have been investigating a murder case, perhaps one you handled yourself. Did he ever probe you indirectly for details about a particular case?”
“…”
Xie Jia Hua stared coldly at the beer without answering. But the alcohol was already burning fiercely in his stomach.
…
The rain stopped. Night had deepened. The musicians had long since left the stage, and soft music drifted from the bar’s speakers. The scattered customers were all half-drunk on the night itself, speaking quietly and embracing one another as though no one else were there.
Xie Jia Hua sat alone at the bar. Several empty bottles and glasses stood before him. His head hung low, one hand supporting his forehead against the counter, as though lost in thought—or perhaps asleep.
The bartender personally brought over the cocktail he had ordered and touched his arm. “Hey. You all right?”
“I’m fine.” Xie Jia Hua looked up. He still appeared lucid.
“Where’s your friend?”
“Went outside to take a call. He’s not my friend.” The alcohol was already showing.
The bartender studied him. “I thought you looked familiar earlier. You… are you Ward? That young officer from Major Crimes?”
Xie Jia Hua frowned and examined him, then recognized the bartender as well. “That’s me.”
The bartender laughed in delighted surprise. “Ha! It really is you! How many years has it been since you came here? Seven or eight?”
“Nine.”
The bartender suddenly remembered something and raised a hand to search the area above the bar. “We still had that photo of you and Jacky from back then… Huh?! Where did it go? I saw it not long ago.”
Xie Jia Hua’s heart began pounding. He waved a hand to tell the bartender not to bother searching, then reached for his wallet and ordered another glass of strong liquor.
His emotions had begun to churn the moment he stepped into this bar. Lu Guang Ming’s words had been like a match dropped into a barrel of gasoline sealed away for years, setting a raging fire ablaze inside him.
This was the bar where he and Tang Jia Qi had reunited after years apart. They had been primary-school classmates, grown up in the same neighborhood, and once been very close. Later, as his father’s political career flourished and he was promoted again and again, Xie Jia Hua’s family moved away while he was in secondary school, and the two gradually lost touch. Back then, Xie Jia Hua had been a rebellious, eccentric spoiled son from a wealthy family, deeply estranged from his father. He wanted nothing less than to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a police officer; he had wanted to go abroad and study art. But under his father’s coercion, he entered the police academy and was assigned to the Major Crimes Unit after graduation. Reuniting with his childhood friend Tang Jia Qi in this bar was the one bright spot in those frustrated, irritable years. As they grew closer, Tang Jia Qi’s confidence, cheerfulness, and conviction in punishing evil and upholding justice gradually influenced him. Xie Jia Hua slowly began to take his profession seriously, developing both a sense of belonging and responsibility toward it. He started earnestly learning from his colleagues and seniors, handling cases conscientiously, and even his long-frozen relationship with his father began to improve. He and Tang Jia Qi met often. They drank together, talked about what weighed on their minds, played ball, went out to sea to fish, discussed cases, and exchanged analyses…
That closeness lasted for more than a year. Tang Jia Qi was his confidant and close friend, as well as the guiding light on his path. More than that, perhaps the feelings between them had long since gone beyond ordinary friendship or brotherhood. Three days before Tang Jia Qi disappeared, right here in this bar, a drunken Tang Jia Qi had suddenly kissed him, then pushed him away, apologized, and fled in panic. Xie Jia Hua had not chased after him, because his own heart had been in chaos and he had not known what to do. He buried himself in work, wanting to think their relationship through properly. But before he could reach any conclusion, what came instead was news of Tang Jia Qi’s death.
He would never have the chance to answer him now. For nine years, through every restless, sleepless night, he had regretted it bitterly—regretted not chasing after him that night, regretted not calling him afterward, regretted not having time to tell him, Actually, I didn’t hate that kiss, and Actually, maybe we could try being together…
And now this yellow-haired brat who lied through his teeth, schemed at every turn, and had no bottom line or principles was insinuating that Tang Jia Qi had approached him from the very beginning only to use him for information about a case! How could feelings that sincere possibly have been fake?! How could the understanding, trust, and unspoken rapport between them—as though their hearts were connected—possibly have been fake?! Back then, he and Tang Jia Qi had talked about everything. They had discussed more cases than he could count. As long as nothing confidential was involved and neither of their departments needed to avoid a conflict of interest, they would help each other however they could, asking questions and seeking advice from one another without reservation. Tang Jia Qi had never once “probed him indirectly for case details” the way Lu Guang Ming claimed!
In Xie Jia Hua’s heart, Tang Jia Qi was noble and pure, someone not to be profaned. Far from overturning his contemptuous impression of Lu Guang Ming, tonight’s words had only made his disgust deepen. This smiling little fox was barely in his twenties. What kind of dark past could have cultivated such calculating thoughts and underhanded methods, polishing them into such a shamelessly hypocritical mask? Someone so despicable and selfish surely had no one truly close to him, surely knew nothing about feelings. What right did he have to make wild guesses and drive a wedge between Xie Jia Hua and Tang Jia Qi?
Anger with nowhere to go, regret that could never be repaired, and longing divided forever by life and death wove themselves into a towering wave within him. Glass after glass of strong liquor drew him toward the heart of the churning whirlpool. Helpless to resist, he drifted and sank through the dizziness, gradually dragged toward the lightless depths of the sea.
…
Lu Guang Ming finally finished a long phone call with a colleague about a case and hurried back to the bar. Several more glasses had appeared on the counter. Xie Jia Hua was sitting with his forehead in one hand, eyes half closed, utterly unresponsive to the waiter’s light pats and calls.
“How did you drink this much?” Lu Guang Ming asked in surprise, stepping forward to pat his face. “Inspector Xie? Xie—whoa!”
He jerked his head back to avoid the iron fist Inspector Xie swung at him and hurriedly jumped several steps away. Instead of getting angry, he laughed. “You hate me that much? Even drunk, you still want to hit me?”
“Get lost,” Xie Jia Hua said. He rose with a dark expression and pulled several bills from his wallet, laying them on the counter.
“He already paid just now,” the waiter said, pushing the money back. Then he said helplessly to Lu Guang Ming, “Your friend is completely drunk. Take him home.”
“That would require me being able to get near him.” Lu Guang Ming tried several times to dodge his way closer, only to be met every time by Inspector Xie’s astonishingly accurate fists.
Driven to desperation, Lu Guang Ming suddenly had an idea. He broke into a bright, open smile. “A’Hua? Don’t you recognize me? I’m Jia Qi.”
Xie Jia Hua stared at him with knitted brows and a gloomy expression. Under that gaze, Lu Guang Ming began to feel guilty. He figured Xie Jia Hua was not drunk enough after all, his terrible act was about to be exposed, and another iron fist was coming—
Xie Jia Hua suddenly stepped forward and wrapped both arms around him.
“There, there. Good A’Hua. Long time no see.” Lu Guang Ming grinned and patted his head, then shot the waiter a smug smile. “A’Hua, you should go home.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Xie Jia Hua said. His head rested against Lu Guang Ming’s shoulder, eyes closed. “I miss you so much.”
Lu Guang Ming patted him again. “I miss you too. Be good. Go home and get some sleep.”
“Don’t want to go home.”
Lu Guang Ming was so amused by Xie Jia Hua’s perfectly solemn drunkenness that he could not stop laughing. “You might not want to go home, but I do, Inspector Xie. I have a case to investigate first thing tomorrow morning.”
He reached around Xie Jia Hua’s waist and groped about until he finally tugged off his pager. “Let me see who can come pick you up.” Taking the opportunity, he skimmed through Xie Jia Hua’s message records and memorized several numbers that might belong to informants. Then he read through the message contents as well and genuinely failed to find a single message with an intimate tone.
“Inspector Xie, you don’t even have anyone to come pick you up, and you still dare get drunk like this?”
“Jia Qi, I miss you so much.”
Lu Guang Ming narrowed his eyes and smiled, but for one brief instant, the same sorrow and loneliness as Xie Jia Hua’s flashed through the depths of his gaze.
He helped Xie Jia Hua out of the bar, hailed a taxi, and stuffed him inside. Xie Jia Hua rested his head on Lu Guang Ming’s shoulder. He did not make a drunken scene or vomit; he simply leaned against him in silence, eyes closed as though asleep.
Lu Guang Ming watched the scenery outside the window for a while before hearing Xie Jia Hua murmur in his sleep. He leaned closer. Xie Jia Hua rubbed his cheek against his shoulder and whispered, “Where did you go? I miss you so much.”
Lu Guang Ming gathered him into his arms and gently stroked the back of his head as though soothing a child. With his other hand, he drew a photograph from an inner pocket of his clothes.
His fingertips brushed over the brilliant, open smile of the person in the photograph. Softly, almost to himself, he murmured, “I miss him too.”
…
Xie Jia Hua woke with a skull-splitting headache. Brilliant sunlight filled the room. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a full minute before realizing that he was in a hotel—and remembering a few scattered fragments from the night before.
His face turned ashen. He closed his eyes in unbearable humiliation, but in the end he still could not stop himself from turning his head toward the other side of the bed.
Half of Lu Guang Ming’s face was buried in the pillow. Wrapped in the quilt, he was curled into a ball. Bruises marked the corners of his brow and mouth, while the bare skin across his shoulders and collarbones was covered in suggestive red marks, plainly left by biting. He was sleeping deeply, cheeks faintly flushed. Without that smiling fox mask, there was an almost childlike innocence to his face.
Rubbing his temples, Xie Jia Hua climbed out of bed and surveyed the wreckage of the room with a splitting headache. The quilt and sheets were marked with suggestive damp stains, and several used condoms lay among the clothes that had been torn off and scattered messily across the floor.
He couldn’t believe he’d actually remembered to use condoms! Even drunk and losing control, he’d somehow managed to lose control with complete seriousness—with rules and principles intact!
He slapped his own absurdly proper, foolish self hard across the face. Unable to bear staying in that room for another minute, he dressed as quickly as possible. Just as he opened the door, however, he stopped.
His pager was gone.
He turned back and searched through the clothes on the floor until he found his pager inside Lu Guang Ming’s pocket. After clipping it back onto his waist, he continued searching carefully, just in case Lu Guang Ming had stolen anything else from him.
Inside a concealed inner pocket of Lu Guang Ming’s coat, he found a photograph.
It was a photograph of Xie Jia Hua and Tang Jia Qi from ten years ago, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders at a tourist pier. On the back were the date it had been taken and the words Long Live Friendship. They had left it on the photo wall of the bar they used to frequent. Last night, Lu Guang Ming had said he had seen a photograph of Xie Jia Hua when he was young.
And the bartender had said the photograph was missing.
Frowning, Xie Jia Hua glanced once at Lu Guang Ming, who was still sleeping soundly. He clenched the photograph in his hand, opened the door, and left without looking back.
Leave a Reply