Early that morning, Yan Xiaodao had originally wanted to keep Mr. Ling at home, but knowing there was no talking Ling He out of anything, he could only go out with him and stay close at his side. At dawn, the two of them returned once again to Linwan Pier 5.
The pier had been sealed off. No ships were entering or leaving the harbor, and unauthorized people were not allowed near it.
The core area of the pier was under complete police encirclement and lockdown, with police tape forming layer after layer around it and traffic controls imposed nearby. The crisis clearly was not over. Arresting Gu Yaoting implicated important figures behind him, and Yandu and the local authorities were still quietly coordinating behind the scenes.
Someone was probably desperate to make Gu Yaoting shut his mouth forever, so that he could never speak again and never stir up trouble by scattering photographs everywhere. But at this point even silencing him was impossible. Gu Yaoting was trapped inside ring after ring of police containment… In any case, he could not escape. Even with wings he would not get out. He was going to be trapped here until the end, and Yan Xiaodao and the others were simply waiting for the final word from Bureau Chief Bao and Captain Xue that the suspect had been captured.
If the suspect held out until noon and still refused to lay down his weapons and surrender, Captain Xue would definitely order the SWAT team to storm the place. It was only a matter of hours.
A flock of seagulls wheeled above the harbor. Beyond the smoke of gunfire stretched an endless expanse of sea and sky. The heavens hung overhead like a polished mirror, clear and cloudless, untouched by the sins of the mortal world below.
It was this very pier where so many stories had unfolded. Old acquaintances had passed away, and past events had scattered like smoke and dust. Even walking beside the sea was enough to make a person melancholy.
Ling He had an absurdly sharp nose. From far away he caught the smell of an old-established shop on the neighboring street selling sugar-roasted chestnuts and immediately started craving them, wanting to go buy some.
Without thinking, Yan Xiaodao said, “I’ll go buy them for you?”
Ling He pressed a hand onto his shoulder and held him in place. “No need. I’m not a child incapable of taking care of myself.”
Yan Xiaodao added, “Then buy a bag for me too.”
Ling He had just been about to say that Xiaodao did not even like those soft, floury chestnuts, but then immediately understood what he was trying to do and did not expose him.
Yan Xiaodao stood alone on the raised embankment by the shore, letting the wind blow over him as he looked out at the scenery. The sharp sea breeze swept him from head to toe until his forehead felt cold and his mind clear.
He turned back to the car and took several bottles of beer from the trunk. Sitting on a bench by the shore facing the vast, rolling waves, he searched the water for the faint black specks rising and falling among them. Some suddenly lifted into the air and became seabirds spreading their wings, while others vanished beneath the waves without a trace. The sight filled him with a quiet ache…
He opened two bottles. One he set beside his foot, and the other he held in his hand.
Raising the bottle toward the sea, he said, “Godfather, have a drink with me.”
Qi Baoshan’s fate was unknown and his whereabouts remained a mystery. The news had been concealed until now, so Yan Xiaodao could not even wear a black mourning band, raise a grave, or announce anything publicly. All he could do was occasionally sit alone by the sea and offer a distant memorial to the ocean, a small expression of filial devotion.
Several unopened bottles still rested on the bench. He pried their caps off with his teeth and fingers, then poured the beer along the edge of the pier, watching the pale-gold liquid arc sideways in the wind.
That wine was for the You father and son already in the ground, and for that old swine Watanabe.
Few people were around the harbor so early in the morning, and with the surrounding area sealed off under tight security, almost no figures were visible at all.
A faint squeak and creak sounded behind him. Yan Xiaodao ignored it at first and could not be bothered to turn around. The noise came very close, circling just behind him, and an old man in a wheelchair slowly wheeled himself along the beach alone.
The old man bent forward with some difficulty, picked up an empty drink can someone had discarded, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. The can traced a low arc through the air, and his aim was remarkably accurate.
The old man was rather amusing. He rolled around in his squeaking wheelchair as though he too had a cleanliness obsession or a compulsive streak and could not tolerate litter everywhere. In no time at all, he had cleaned up the rubbish scattered along the nearby beach. At last he circled back to Yan Xiaodao and bent down, reaching for the beer bottle by his foot.
Yan Xiaodao had just opened his mouth when the old man grinned. “Oh, not finished yet?”
“Would you like one too, sir?” Yan Xiaodao nodded politely.
“Sure, give me one.” The old fellow was not polite at all. He took the last freshly opened bottle and immediately gulped down two large mouthfuls.
Perhaps because of a certain someone, wheelchairs now inspired an inexplicable sense of familiarity in Yan Xiaodao, and he could not help looking a few more times. This elderly man seemed to have been paralyzed around the knees and calves by some illness. The muscles in his legs had visibly atrophied, thin and wasted where they rested on the seat, the unmistakable appearance of someone who had been paralyzed and bedridden for years. With that comparison in front of him, it became even more obvious that Ling He had deliberately pretended back then. The muscles in Ling He’s legs had never atrophied at all.
“Young man, do you come here to look at the sea often?” The old man seemed in no hurry and had apparently decided to chat with him.
“Not often. I come by once in a while to remember old times,” Yan Xiaodao replied.
“You’re so young. What old times do you have to remember?” the old man asked leisurely.
“My father went out to sea and isn’t around anymore. I come look at the ocean sometimes. Maybe one day he’ll come back with a ship,” Yan Xiaodao said obliquely.
“Oh, what a good son!” The old man smiled strangely. Every time he opened his mouth, it seemed to expose an exaggerated strip of dark-red gum, making his grin vaguely unpleasant. “I came to remember old times too. I had an old friend I’d known for years, about my age. I heard he quarreled with his son and got abandoned. All alone with no one to rely on, he couldn’t get over it and drowned himself right here. So I came to take a look at him!”
Yan Xiaodao: “…”
“Hehehehe…” The old man chuckled again, openly delighted, looking less like someone mourning an old friend and more like someone who had come to the shore specifically to gloat and shout, You old bastard, in the end you still died before me!
Without hesitation, he poured the remaining half bottle of beer into the wind too.
Only then did Yan Xiaodao realize that this mysterious old man who had appeared from nowhere possessed a difficult-to-describe strangeness. Looking more carefully, the man was not actually very old. Illness had simply made him frail, leaving his upper body weakly reclined in the wheelchair. His face was a light golden-brown, with lines from years of hardship etched across his forehead and the corners of his eyes. His sparse hair was combed straight back, yet the shirt and trousers he wore were made from expensive branded fabrics. He looked like someone of considerable status…
His golden-brown eyelids were heavy, while his eyes protruded slightly from deep sockets and moved with sharp, agile intelligence as they surveyed his surroundings. His speech carried a distinct southern accent. He was definitely not local and, in every way, did not belong here.
Yan Xiaodao swept an alert glance around them. “You came alone? No family with you?”
The surrounding roads were under lockdown. How had an elderly man maneuvering a wheelchair by himself appeared here? Unless he lived near the pier, but both his accent and his clothes were completely at odds with the atmosphere of the harbor.
A thought flickered through Yan Xiaodao’s mind, and he suddenly asked, “Sir, may I ask your surname?”
Without hesitation, the old man said, “My humble surname is Gu.”
Gu?… Mr. Yan truly did not know any elderly man surnamed Gu.
“All right, that’s enough wind. It’s making me dizzy. I really have been cooped up indoors for too long!” The old man waved one hand with the air of someone accustomed to giving orders. “Young man, could I trouble you to give me a push? Help me up those steps over there. My legs don’t work, and I can’t make it up by myself.”
Yan Xiaodao had been waiting for Ling He in the first place, waiting and waiting while Mr. Ling, who had supposedly gone to buy chestnuts, seemed to have vanished along with them.
Since the man in the wheelchair had asked directly for help and it was only twenty or thirty meters away, Yan Xiaodao took hold of the chair, wheeled him around the long stairway, and pushed him upward along the accessible ramp.
Following the old man’s directions, Yan Xiaodao turned two corners and still did not see any homes. This was the warehouse district of the pier. Other than communal dormitory sheds for sailors and laborers, where would there be a proper residence?
The old man pointed toward a huge warehouse, reached out, and slowly pulled open the heavy iron door. A gust of wind suddenly burst from the black opening, carrying the moldy smell of stored goods, scrap material, and old warehouse walls. “This is where I live. Want to come in and sit for a while?”
Alone outside, Yan Xiaodao remained cautious. He stopped three meters from the doorway and politely said, “Make yourself comfortable. I have something to do, so I’ll be leaving.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry!” The old man bared those unattractive gums again, his exaggerated smile seeming to hide some deeper meaning. “Mr. Yan, come in. You and I have never met, but we’re old acquaintances all the same. I’m very curious about you. Come in and chat. You don’t need to be afraid of me!”
Yan Xiaodao’s expression changed abruptly. “Who are you?”
The old man smiled miserably, using a wild, desolate grin to disguise a crippled body and a mind and soul that had been warped and broken over many years. “Who am I? What do you think, Mr. Yan?”
Yan Xiaodao guessed a name and found it impossible to believe. “You’re paralyzed? Your legs really are crippled?”
“Hehehehe!” The old man laughed wildly, his voice vicious. “His crippled legs were fake, just to fool you. Mine are the ones that are really crippled!”
Yan Xiaodao frowned. “How did your legs become like this?”
The old man snorted. “How did they become like this? Go ask Xiaohe.”
Yan Xiaodao certainly intended to ask Ling He, but he had no desire to keep entangling himself with this stranger whose identity remained unclear.
He took one step backward and turned to leave, only for the old man in the wheelchair to suddenly lean forward and seize his wrist. The man’s lower body was too weak for him to rise, but his grip was unexpectedly strong. He hauled Yan Xiaodao toward him so forcefully that Xiaodao failed to break free on his first attempt, and facing an obviously disabled body, he could not bring himself simply to hit the man.
And the old man seemed to have taken a liking to something around his wrist. What he grabbed was not merely Yan Xiaodao’s arm, but the amber-bead bracelet wrapped around it.
At the very moment the two began pulling against each other, a figure in white shot into Yan Xiaodao’s peripheral vision from a distance and leapt straight down from the top of a staircase more than a dozen steps high. Ling He came charging toward Yan Xiaodao as though his heels were on fire, furious, and lashed out with one foot.
The kick did not strike Xiaodao’s hand. It slammed directly into the old man’s arm, and in one rough, brutally efficient movement freed Xiaodao from his grip.
Ling He immediately kicked again, this time hard against the side of the wheelchair’s armrest.
Before Yan Xiaodao had time to explain or stop him, the wheelchair and the old man nearly lifted off the ground together, flying crookedly through the warehouse entrance and tumbling ten-odd meters inside.
A string of wooden beads burst upward into the air and scattered everywhere before Yan Xiaodao’s shocked eyes.
The cord of the amber bracelet had snapped apart.
The old fellow was, after all, a paralytic who could not move an inch without help. One tumble reduced him at once to a miserable heap. He was thrown from the wheelchair cushion and crashed heavily onto the floor.
Ling He dragged Xiaodao behind him and shielded him, watching the person struggling to crawl across the ground as though what lay there were a monster that might reveal its demonic true form at any moment.
The old man was not actually some demon or ghost, nor did he possess a terrifying face. At that moment his ten fingers clawed painfully at the cracks in the concrete floor while his expression hovered between laughter and tears. “Ahem, Xiaohe. You’re still this heartless toward me.”
“Get farther away. Don’t touch Mr. Yan!” Ling He’s face was savage and merciless.
“Xiaohe, don’t be like that.” Yan Xiaodao felt a trace of pity and tried to go help. Ling He clamped viciously around his wrist and refused to let him move, as though the old man carried poison, some highly infectious disease, or was simply a criminal so wicked he did not deserve mercy.
The old man sat himself up, wheezing. He was probably long accustomed to scenes like this, where arguments and scuffles erupted at the drop of a hat, and his shoulders shook with laughter. “Ahem, Mr. Yan, sorry you had to see our family making fools of ourselves.”
Ling He raised one hand and pointed at him. “Back up. Get farther away.”
The old man spread his hands helplessly and put on the pitiful expression of a weak, innocent elder. “Xiaohe, don’t be like that. I’m not going to touch you.”
Ling He barked, “What happened to the twenty meters we agreed on? Move back!”
“All right, all right… I’ll move. I’m moving, I’m moving.” The old fellow was astonishingly obedient and completely helpless before Ling He. He shuffled several meters farther away and leaned against the warehouse wall, breathing hard.
“…”
Yan Xiaodao was stunned. He had calculated every possibility imaginable and still had not anticipated this extraordinarily bizarre family arrangement between the elder and younger members of the Ling household.
He edged closer to Ling He and quietly confirmed, “He’s your adoptive father, Ling Huang.”
Ling He did not answer, which was answer enough. His face was cold and pale. Merely seeing his adoptive father triggered a chain of both physical and psychological revulsion. The two apparently had to remain twenty meters apart even to look at each other and speak.
Yan Xiaodao studied Ling He’s expression. “…Then who is surnamed Gu?”
It was as though Ling He’s eyes were struck by a painful memory. His brilliant emerald irises seemed to crack from the center, blooming with threads of blood.
“The person Xiaohe and I both cared about most was surnamed Gu!” At the mention of that surname, Ling Huang naturally lifted his head and stared solemnly toward a corner of the ceiling as though someone there were watching them. His entire expression became grave and reverent as he answered Yan Xiaodao’s most important question.
The old man looked almost comical when Ling He cursed him bloody. He seemed powerless, entirely unconcerned with any hierarchy between elder and younger, and made no effort to resist Ling He’s authority. He spread his hands with a helpless smile. “Hehe, I’m Ling Huang. Mr. Yan, I’ve heard so much about you.”
Yan Xiaodao was momentarily speechless. Ordinarily he could handle any social situation with ease, yet now he had no idea how to greet the man in front of him… What exactly was this relationship supposed to be? His prospective stepfather-in-law?
Yan Xiaodao nodded politely. “Mr. Ling. I’ve heard a great deal about you. A pleasure to meet you.”
Ling He coldly demanded of Ling Huang, “What did you come out here for?”
Ling Huang said, “It’s black □□ inside that warehouse, and stuffy as hell. I came out to get some air and let the wind blow on me. Then I happened to run into Mr. Yan.”
Elio’s Notes: The raw itself has `□□` here, so I’ve kept the gap instead of guessing what the missing characters were.
Of all words, “happened” was one Ling He trusted least. He himself habitually used “coincidence” as an excuse while calculating and carrying out his plans, so he never believed anyone else’s coincidences.
Ling He’s anger had not faded. “If I’d known, I never should’ve let you come back to the mainland.”
“If you didn’t let me come back, where else could I go?” Ling Huang tipped his head back and laughed. “You sold my house for this Mr. Yan of yours. I don’t even have a place to stay anymore. I could only come here and seek refuge with you, Xiaohe!”
Yan Xiaodao immediately looked at Ling He. “For me?”
To outsiders, the relationship between the elder and younger members of the Ling family probably looked absurdly unrestrained. In Ling Huang’s eyes, however, perhaps the more interesting relationship was the one between Ling He and Xiaodao. How had these two people, once so completely incompatible, somehow become lovers who could not bear to part?
Ling Huang laughed and wheezed. “Mr. Yan, that foot of yours is worth fifteen million. You’d better take good care of it. Don’t twist or sprain your ankle again. You’ve got yourself a golden right foot!”
Yan Xiaodao: “…”
Just then, one amber bead rolled to Yan Xiaodao’s foot. He bent down and gathered up all the beads that had scattered. Two had actually shattered, and that hurt a little. After all, Ling He had given the bracelet to him.
As he lowered his head to pick them up, he noticed the exposed interior of one of the so-called “amber” beads. He abruptly froze, holding it between his fingers for a long moment… How could genuine amber shatter so easily from one fall? Two of the beads had clearly been made from halves joined together, and the important part lay inside the hollow centers. One contained a tracking device. The other contained a listening device.
His recent sixth sense that someone was always watching him suddenly made perfect sense. So that was it.
Ling Huang seized the opening to mock what he considered this incomprehensible romance. “Hmph, Mr. Yan. Just how much does Xiaohe care about you, to stay at your side in this way and keep his eyes on you every minute of every day? Hehe!”
Yan Xiaodao did not even need to look at Ling He’s complicated expression. He stared straight at Ling Huang and answered without hesitation, “I know Xiaohe is in love with me and wants to stay with me every step of the way. If this makes him feel safe, I’m perfectly happy to let him watch me and follow me every minute of every day. I don’t mind, so why should it concern you?”
“…” Ling Huang fell silent and made a disdainful face.
As far as Yan Xiaodao was concerned, matters between a couple were settled within the couple. He was never going to let an outsider sow discord. He could discuss the tracker and listening device carefully with Mr. Ling later. So what important things had Ling He heard?
What secrets did Yan Xiaodao even have in front of him? Had he hidden anything?
Did you record my deep bass every night? Was it that good to listen to? Hearing it live wasn’t enough, so you had to replay the recordings afterward too?!
And that fifteen million. He had actually sold a house?…
But in front of Ling Huang, he and Ling He stood firmly on the same side. Something this small was not enough to create a rift between them. He took Ling He’s hand tightly, while instinct warned him to remain wary of the older Mr. Ling before them.
Perhaps Yan Xiaodao possessed more empathy than most and understood better than others this kind of complicated attachment that could not be severed, almost pathological in its intensity. The unusual adoptive father and son before him were one example.
Qi Baoshan too, at a turning point of unpredictable fate, had been unable to let go of his adopted son and unwilling to accept losing him. He had chosen to risk his life, abandoning the better outcomes of surrender or escape, and furiously thrown himself into the open sea. Years of affection had vanished into the waves as he severed the relationship in such a tragic way. And now Mr. Ling Huang did not actually look that old, yet disability had made his body frail, while nervous obsession twisted his facial muscles. The emotional lines on his face and the unstable light flickering in his eyes were saturated with a pathological attachment to his adopted son.
In the end, both had directed their feelings toward the wrong person.
Ling Huang’s eyes fixed nakedly on every movement Ling He made. Fortunately, his legs were paralyzed and without the wheelchair he could not move at all. All he could do was throw his blatant gaze at Ling He again and again, his stare barbed like a spear trying to strip the clothes from his body.
Yan Xiaodao could see that the warehouse was only a temporary place to live. It was full of foul smells, industrial dust, and smoke, and Ling Huang had probably been hidden here in a hurry by Ling He. Ling He said with disgust, “If you keep wandering around the street and the police find you, you can go right back to prison. Then I won’t have to care whether you live or die.”
“Xiaohe, you still despise me this much?” Ling Huang asked with a bitter smile.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t have time to despise you,” Ling He said coldly.
“Hehe, Xiaohe. I’m not going to hurt you.” The old bastard was thick-skinned enough that much of what he said was a question he already knew the answer to. If Ling He sprayed venom across one cheek, Ling Huang practically wanted to offer the other one at once, enjoying every cold word. In truth he only wanted Ling He to speak a little more. Simply hearing Ling He’s voice gave some comfort to that starving desire. Even Ling He’s voice was exactly like his biological father’s, though their temperaments were utterly different. Ling He’s disposition was much fiercer and fouler…
Ling He rolled his eyes. He treated his adoptive father with extreme coldness, avoided all unnecessary physical contact, and absolutely refused to approach the paralyzed Ling Huang, rigidly maintaining the full twenty-meter distance. Yan Xiaodao thought that if Ling He were only a little more ruthless, he might dig out Ling Huang’s eyes and bury them just to escape that clinging voyeuristic stare.
Ling He called Mao Zhixiu and several of his people over.
Miss Mao saw Ling Huang sitting miserably in a corner, looking very much as though someone had beaten him, and showed not the slightest surprise. Clearly scenes like this had long since become ordinary to her.
“Ahem, Boss Ling, hurry up and get up. It’s awful letting Mr. Yan see you like this…” Mao Zhixiu was strong enough to haul the old fellow upright almost by herself. The younger men at least preserved some respect for the elderly and helped settle Ling Huang back into the wheelchair, wiping the dirt from his face and putting him back in order.
Ling He absolutely refused to lift a finger himself and stayed as far away as possible.
Ling He often expressed his proud, stubborn position through action rather than words. He disliked unnecessary physical contact with anyone. If you were not Xiaodao, then get the hell away from him.
Ling Huang finally looked human again. He straightened his shirt himself and recovered his calm composure, then actually explained on behalf of his adopted son, “Mr. Yan, don’t laugh at us. Xiaohe is simply like this, hehe. I spoiled him rotten from childhood. In any case, he never killed me. I ought to be grateful for all these years of consideration, mercy, kindness, and generosity. We normally get along extremely well. He is very filial. We’re wonderfully harmonious, hahaha!”
Ling He shuddered with disgust and could not tolerate this man’s abnormal wiring any longer.
……
A gust of sea wind blew into the warehouse, finally injecting fresh air into the stifling atmosphere and letting everyone breathe.
Years ago, Qi Baoshan had warned his adopted son that the jianghu was dangerous and human hearts could not be trusted. Ling Huang might not be dead at all, he had said. Perhaps father and son had been together all these years. Master Qi had actually guessed right.
Embarrassment crossed Ling He’s face, and he turned away.
Yan Xiaodao instinctively wrapped one arm around him and quickly kissed his cheek. “It’s all right now. It’s over.”
“You probably can’t understand or accept it. You think I’m heartless, don’t you?” Ling He suddenly laid himself bare, staring blankly at him. “…Ling Huang did save me, after all.”
It was the first time Yan Xiaodao had ever heard Ling He openly explain this bizarre relationship with his adoptive father.
“When both my parents were dead and I had no one to rely on, Ling Huang saved me. Back then he worked his connections in Yandu, used a few methods, got me out of that hellhole, and adopted me. Of course, the official story was that he was spending money and effort to ‘raise’ me temporarily, and that once I reached fifteen and became usable, he would guarantee my return and send me back. Ling Huang took me south away from Yandu and never intended to return me. He was planning to secretly send me overseas. Not long afterward came the Chen Jiu robbery and the chain of events that followed.”
Yan Xiaodao suddenly understood. “So that’s what happened?”
“Heh. If Ling Huang hadn’t shown that bit of kindness back then, I would have become another Mai Yunliang, Yi Han, Lu Yilun, or Bei Jiahong. I had already lost everything and had no one to rely on. Once my name went onto that list, there was no way I could have escaped that fate. Yet somehow I got lucky and got out. Escaping overseas must have driven those people absolutely insane. So yes, I really should call Ling Huang my ‘great benefactor,’ even though saving me was hardly an act born entirely from good intentions.”
Before Ling He could finish, Ling Huang, who had been listening from afar with his ears practically standing up, interrupted him.
“Ahem.” Ling Huang put on a pitiful smile. “Everything I did came from good intentions. You’re the treasure of the second half of my life, Xiaohe!”
“Pervert.” Ling He threw down the two words with ringing force.
Then Ling He gave Xiaodao a helpless look and said, “Even if your godfather was once a murderer with blood on his hands and crimes piled around him, in the end you still can’t bear to be ruthless toward him, because he saved your life too and gave you the road that let you keep living afterward. Right?”
Having one’s heart ripped away never felt good for anyone. Mr. Ling Huang’s state of mind at that moment was probably much like Qi Baoshan’s when he threw himself into the sea, suffering bitterness that could not be spoken. His heart’s treasure? Ling He now belonged to Yan Xiaodao in body and heart. If Master Qi could crawl out of the water at that moment, those two old friends would have plenty to discuss and every reason to throw themselves into each other’s arms, wailing their regrets and grievances.
It was also rather funny. Ling Huang seemed genuinely afraid of Ling He. Their entire father-son dynamic amounted to a one-way stream of groveling. Ling He would not spare him one pleasant expression, while Ling Huang exhausted every trick he knew smiling and coaxing this foul-tempered adopted son.