When Fei Zuohua rushed in, he hadn't brought an umbrella. It was eight o'clock at Taozhong Xuan, and the crowd had already thinned out significantly. Lu Mingyue was standing behind the bar wiping glasses. Hearing the commotion at the door, he looked up with a smile, as if he had been waiting for a long time, watching the drenched Fei Zuohua charge toward him like a released arrow.
The surrounding bartenders looked at Lu Mingyue in confusion and took a few steps toward him, but they stopped at Lu Mingyue’s signal and turned away.
Fei Zuohua approached. Across the bar, he leaned in and lowered his voice, his eyes shining with an indescribable excitement. He reached out, grabbed the bottom of Lu Mingyue’s tie, and yanked him forward. "You’ve slipped up!"
Lu Mingyue glanced behind him. "No other police?"
Fei Zuohua tightened his grip. Lu Mingyue moved forward with the pull and laughed. "Do you want to start something here? Don't you want to talk?"
Fei Zuohua stared at his face and slowly let go, but he maintained a distance from which he could strike at any moment. His hand drifted behind his back; he had brought a gun this time.
Lu Mingyue acted as if nothing were wrong, picking up a glass to pour a drink for Fei Zuohua, though his voice remained low, kept strictly between the two of them. "The lab results came back fast."
Fei Zuohua didn't take the glass. He didn't move, maintaining a defensive posture without a trace of a smile as he watched Lu Mingyue. "Expedited," he said succinctly, unwilling to waste words.
"Then," Lu Mingyue saw that Fei Zuohua wouldn't drink the wine he offered, so he picked it up and drank it himself, "since you didn't bring other cops, I assume you have questions for me?"
"Where is Pei Cangyu?" Fei Zuohua fixed his gaze on him.
Lu Mingyue turned his head to check the clock. "It’s almost eight." He turned back and smiled at Fei Zuohua. "What, they couldn't get it out of Bai Shi?"
Fei Zuohua’s mouth pressed into a cold, thin line. Bai Shi was difficult to deal with; Division Eight had gained nothing from him.
"Oh, I see." Lu Mingyue looked as if he had just realized something. "But to think you’d engage in private dealings like this. I thought you were an upright policeman."
Fei Zuohua’s palms were sweating. He gripped the handle of his gun.
"Fei Zuohua." Lu Mingyue suddenly stopped smiling. "Are you planning to make a move?"
Fei Zuohua stared at him. The fingerprint results told him that this man had killed countless people, leaving a trail of blood across the globe.
Lu Mingyue leaned closer, his voice controlled. All around them was the noisy bustle of people; those shedding the day's exhaustion were shouting for more drinks, their faces flushed, their ties loosened, leaning on one another to exchange dull pleasantries. The noise rose in waves—the clatter of cups and the boisterous laughter of the guests. Someone passed by Fei Zuohua, bumping into him and offering a casual apology before walking away. Everyone was so relaxed. At the center of this low-pressure zone, there was only Fei Zuohua, tense to the point of snapping.
Lu Mingyue lowered his voice and said, "I could kill you before you even draw your gun."
Fei Zuohua was about to move when he realized one of Lu Mingyue’s hands had never emerged from beneath the bar. He could guess what was held there.
Lu Mingyue’s free hand pressed onto Fei Zuohua’s shoulder. "Listen to me, Fei Zuohua. Don't try to kill me now. Go to the hospital, while there’s still time."
Fei Zuohua struggled to maintain his composure. "What hospital?"
"The hospital where Ding Chuan is." Lu Mingyue wasn't smiling anymore. His eyes held the chilling calm of someone accustomed to life-and-death struggles. "Trust me."
Fei Zuohua’s hands were drenched in sweat. His palm against the gun grip was so slick he could barely hold it. In that moment, he suddenly felt a massive chasm between them. The unsmiling Lu Mingyue had a face of ice and dark, hollow eyes that seemed to hold nothing at all. He radiated a powerful aura. When he said "I will kill you," it didn't sound like a killer’s declaration; it sounded like a prophet pointing out an inevitable fact. The gap was too wide. While Fei Zuohua had been studying criminal cases, psychological profiles, and crime scene photos at the police academy, the man pressing down on his shoulder had been licking blood in dark trenches, sharpening knives, cleaning guns, and watching his prey.
Fei Zuohua was suppressed, not just by Lu Mingyue’s aura, but by his own fear. Because of that fear, he couldn't even hear the surrounding noise clearly; he could only hear Lu Mingyue’s steady breathing, which formed a sharp contrast to his own ragged breaths and violent heartbeat.
He had never felt so close to death. If Lu Mingyue fired, it would be over. There would be no saving him. Everything would end. He would die. He would die.
He swallowed hard.
Lu Mingyue continued, "Go, fledgling. This isn't your fault. Leave now, go to the hospital. Maybe you can still do something."
Fei Zuohua didn't move. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"If you leave now, imagine yourself twenty years later. When you are old, holding your granddaughter on your porch, playing with a cat... you will look back on tonight. You will look at her face and be grateful you made the right decision, that you didn't waste your young life in a bar brawl where the killer wouldn't even be found. You have a bright future. You will do great things, surpassing your father and your teacher. You need to learn, you need to grow, you need to take it slow. Don't fantasize about being a hero. Especially not in front of me."
Fei Zuohua stared at the glass on the bar, feeling a wave of dizziness. His heart was in turmoil; voices were screaming in his head, tearing at his brain. Reason told him he had to leave now, but his sense of honor made it impossible to bow his head.
Lu Mingyue watched him, his face remaining calm. "Go, Fei Zuohua. You aren't ready."
Fei Zuohua’s hand on the gun grip loosened slightly.
"Go to the hospital," Lu Mingyue’s voice was full of persuasion.
Fei Zuohua let go of the gun. He took a step back, and his heart suddenly felt a wave of relief, as if he had watched the God of Death slowly close a door. This sense of ease made him want to vomit.
Lu Mingyue also moved back. They separated from an angle that could almost be called "intimate," yet it was born of anything but attraction.
Fei Zuohua turned slowly and walked toward the door with mechanical steps. Lu Mingyue watched his dejected, funeral-like silhouette.
Once Fei Zuohua stepped outside, it felt like he had been in a dream.
He looked down at his hands, unable to believe the choice he had just made. Passersby bumped into him, irritably telling him not to stand in the middle of the sidewalk. Fei Zuohua didn't move. He stared at his hands, his vision blurring.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit him. He rushed to the side of a wall, bent over, and vomited right there on the ground. He threw up everything he had eaten that day, and the act finally cleared his head.
*Dammit.* Fei Zuohua looked up. What had he just done?
The door was kicked open again. The bartender watched as Fei Zuohua stormed back in, gun in hand, waving it irritably at the panicked customers. "Nobody move! Police business!"
He rushed up to the bartender. "Where is Lu Mingyue?"
The bartender pointed toward the back.
"Hands up, face me!" Fei Zuohua ordered. The bartender complied.
Fei Zuohua kept the gun trained on him as he circled around, ensuring the bartender wouldn't try anything before heading to the back.
The back led to the parking lot.
"Fuck!"
Fei Zuohua cursed loudly and gave chase, but there wasn't a soul in sight.
He went back out with his handcuffs and detained the relevant staff.
In the middle of the chaos, his phone rang. It was a friend from Division Eight.
"What is it? I'm busy!" Fei Zuohua said urgently.
"Bai Shi escaped."
"Escaped?! From Division Eight? Right under your noses?!"
Nearby police arrived to help. Fei Zuohua stood there for a moment, trying to figure out his next move. Lu Mingyue’s words jumped back into his mind.
*Go to the hospital.*
The hospital...
Fei Zuohua rushed out, calling his master while heading for his car.
His master wouldn't pick up. Fei Zuohua tried several more times, his anxiety mounting. This wasn't normal. He had a terrible premonition and accelerated toward the hospital.
***
Tu Ziyun and Ding Chuan sat in the hospital room in silence.
It was Ding Chuan who broke it.
"When is Fei Qisheng coming?" Ding Chuan asked for the umpteenth time.
Tu Ziyun looked up at him. "Soon. You’ve asked so many times, even a mistress waiting for a groom wouldn't be this anxious."
"Haha, is that so?" Ding Chuan rubbed his chin and rolled his neck, trying to lift the right side of his body.
Tu Ziyun watched him. "Why are you so fixated on him?"
"Ha!" Ding Chuan laughed. He squeezed his right hand and winked with the playful expression he often wore in his youth. "You're jealous."
Tu Ziyun rolled his eyes. Long before he had refined himself into the easygoing, "old fox" persona he wore today, he hadn't been a patient man. Compared to Ding Chuan, he rarely smiled; compared to Fei Qisheng, he was more hot-tempered.
Tu Ziyun narrowed his eyes. "Your right hand can move."
"I told you before, as long as I take the meds, I can hold out for a while." Ding Chuan moved his right leg.
"Want to try standing up for a walk?" Tu Ziyun asked.
Ding Chuan nodded, extended his right leg, and tried to stand. "I have to stand up now."
Tu Ziyun started to reach out to help, but seeing that Ding Chuan could manage on his own, he pulled back. He wasn't sure if it was the heater, but he felt a bit feverish.
Ding Chuan stood up and walked slowly around the room. Though he was clumsy at first, he quickly mastered the rhythm. As he moved, his wooden prosthetic leg hit the floor with a rhythmic *thump, thump*.
On the other side, Tu Ziyun felt increasingly drowsy. "Can you turn down the heat a bit?"
"Why? What’s wrong?" Ding Chuan stopped and looked at him.
"My head hurts..." Tu Ziyun sat up from the backrest, pressing his forehead. "I feel like..."
He stopped mid-sentence. His eyes fell on Ding Chuan’s teacup. Ding Chuan hadn't touched his tea.
Ding Chuan hadn't drunk any tea today.
"What?" Ding Chuan smiled. His movements were becoming more fluid. He clenched and unclenched his right hand; he could pick things up now.
Tu Ziyun felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.
He looked up, his voice trembling with shock. "Was it you who killed Zhao Like?"
Ding Chuan smiled. He picked up a broom from the corner and swung it, as if practicing.
"I see now." Tu Ziyun tried to stand, but he immediately slid back into the sofa. "It was you and Bai Shi from the beginning. You two had a falling out, Bai Shi exposed you and handed you to the police, and you turned around to screw him over, hoping to use the police to eliminate him. It was your contest from the start, and you dragged us into it, dragged innocent people into it..."
Ding Chuan boredly tossed the broom aside and stretched his legs. "Yeah, something like that."
Tu Ziyun struggled to stay conscious. While he spoke, he reached for his phone and hid it behind his back.
"Bai Shi used the mud to force your hand and expose you. Later, he used that dead man named Ding to point toward an account under the name Shang. Given time, he would have eventually dragged everything behind you into the light. So that’s when you came clean to me. First, you nudged me to find a psychologist, and during that process, you hinted that Bai Shi had mental issues. Later, you told me about Bai Shi’s past, knowing I already suspected him. You simply led me in that direction. You killed Zhao Like but specifically left me alive so I could be the eyewitness. I, who already suspected Bai Shi; I, who had been running around for so long; I, who witnessed the murder with my own eyes..." Tu Ziyun looked up at him, his finger already dialing. "To you, I was the perfect tool."
With an agility he had never shown before, Ding Chuan stepped forward and snatched the phone from behind him. The screen showed he was calling Fei Qisheng. Ding Chuan cut the call. "What, trying to warn him?"
Tu Ziyun didn't move. He pinched his own flesh, trying to stay awake.
"More than that." Ding Chuan grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up from the sofa. Tu Ziyun had no strength to resist. Ding Chuan let go, and Tu Ziyun slammed into a cabinet. Ding Chuan patted his cheek. "I also took Pei Cangyu."
Tu Ziyun’s throat was parched. His vision was blurring, but he kept his speech clear. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Don't know. Don't care."
"Why did you kidnap him? To lure Bai Shi?"
Ding Chuan laughed. "Do you think I’d let Bai Shi go? He will definitely go looking for Pei Cangyu, even if he has to break out of the police station, even if he has to turn against the cops. I want him ruined and disgraced."
Tu Ziyun stared at him. "How do you know Bai Shi will definitely go?"
Ding Chuan hauled him up and dragged him toward the door. "I just know."
Tu Ziyun tried to kick the cabinet as they passed, hoping to knock things over to attract the attention of the police outside, but Ding Chuan just glanced at him. "Don't bother."
Tu Ziyun’s head throbbed harder.
"You still have the mind to ask this and that. Don't you want to ask what was in the tea? Don't you want to know if you're going to die?"
A smile actually appeared on Tu Ziyun’s pale face. "The last time you made tea... it was for today. You knew I’d drink it."
"Correct." Ding Chuan’s eyes lit up as if they were on fire. His expression was one of pure delight. "I’ve waited too long. From the moment I survived until today, I’ve counted every second just for this day."
Tu Ziyun could no longer speak. He was on the verge of collapsing, but Ding Chuan held him by the collar with excitement. Veins bulged on that right arm—the price of a one-time burst of activity. Every movement betrayed the desperation of a final gamble.
"How do I know Bai Shi will go? Of course I know. He left the Bai family specifically for Pei Cangyu. Forget it, you wouldn't understand even if I told you. It doesn't matter. All you need to know is," Ding Chuan pulled him up, his shining eyes inches from Tu Ziyun’s, "my dead daughter, the debt of betrayal, ten years of exile... the Bai family, the government officials... they will all pay the price."
Tu Ziyun reached trembling fingers behind him, but he wasn't carrying his gun today.
Ding Chuan looked at him. "And that includes you."
With that, they finally reached the door. He jammed Tu Ziyun’s head into the doorframe and kicked the door hard several times. Tu Ziyun was already fading; the impact sent flashes of red across his vision. One eye immediately went dark. Only then did he notice the policeman at the door was already dead, his arm hanging limp, blood pouring from a gash in his neck, soaking his uniform. A pool of blood on the floor meandered into the distance.
There was no one else on this floor.
The ceiling lights flickered, making a buzzing sound as if the filaments were about to burn out. The empty corridor was deserted. Behind the nurse’s station, a body lay on the floor with eyes wide open, staring back at the nearly blind Tu Ziyun.
"That... nurse..." Tu Ziyun realized.
But Ding Chuan was walking toward him like a demon, a grotesque smile blooming on his face. He grabbed Tu Ziyun and slammed his head against the wall several times. Tu Ziyun’s limbs twitched involuntarily. He had no doubt that Ding Chuan intended to kill him.
But Ding Chuan didn't.
Ding Chuan cupped Tu Ziyun’s blood-stained face and used his sleeve to wipe the blood from Tu Ziyun’s eyes. He gazed at him. "I won't kill you. Back then, you fired a shot at the barrel lid, which allowed me to survive. Today, I’ll let you go once. We’ll see what fate has in store for you."
Ding Chuan stepped over him, took a gun from under a pillow, and scrolled through Tu Ziyun’s phone. He chuckled. "The rooftop, huh? Fine. It’s a good place for a grave."
He tucked the phone into his oversized hospital gown, kicked Tu Ziyun aside, and prepared to head to the roof.
Using the last of his strength, Tu Ziyun grabbed Ding Chuan’s pant leg, trying to block his path.
Ding Chuan looked at him and suddenly smiled. He crouched down with effort and reached out to stroke Tu Ziyun’s hair. "Why bother? You don't understand Fei Qisheng at all. You’ve held on long enough. Rest now..."
Tu Ziyun gripped him tightly, his consciousness fading.
Ding Chuan told him, "Didn't you know? The one who proposed the trade wasn't Bai Yilong. It was our good brother, Fei Qisheng."
Tu Ziyun finally lost consciousness, and his hand slipped away.
"Well then," Ding Chuan leaned against the wall and slowly stood up. He checked the handgun, chambered a round, clicked off the safety, and held it in his hand. In the empty corridor, under the flickering lights, his face shifted between light and shadow, wearing a twisted, excited smile. He stepped forward, his wooden leg striking the floor with a dull, heavy sound that echoed eerily through the hallway. "Let’s end this."
As he walked toward the roof, Tu Ziyun’s phone rang. Ding Chuan took it out. As soon as he answered, an anxious voice came from the other side: "Master! I finally got through! Something happened! Bai Shi escaped! How is it on your end!?"
"Things... are going quite well." Ding Chuan grinned. "So Bai Shi really did run."
There was a silence on the other end, then a scream: "Ding Chuan!!!"
Ding Chuan moved the phone away slightly. "You can hurry over. If you're too late, I'm afraid you won't make it in time to collect the bodies."
He hung up and tossed the phone aside.
Finally reaching the roof, Ding Chuan’s excitement was beyond measure.
He pushed the door open. The man he had dreamed of killing was standing on the terrace holding an umbrella, his back turned, watching the night lights deepen as he waited for Tu Ziyun. Hearing the noise, he turned around with a relaxed expression, only to see a man in a hospital gown who looked like a vengeful ghost.
Ding Chuan walked toward him in silence.
It took Fei Qisheng only a second to react. "Brother Chuan..."
Ding Chuan laughed. His voice was loud, and he shook with laughter. His once-tall frame was now nothing but a bag of bones. He looked at Fei Qisheng. This man still held his back straight as he had for decades, his hair combed meticulously, his clothes creased just right. He was always motionless, like a pine or a cypress tree. In the past, people always said a man like Fei Qisheng couldn't survive in the underworld because he’d offend too many people. The loyal big brother Ding Chuan and the ill-tempered senior Tu Ziyun had blocked almost all external hostility for him.
"You look quite well." Ding Chuan looked at him, stopping right in front of him. His thin hospital gown was soaked through, making him look like a drowned rat, but his spirit was incredibly high.
"Where is Tu Ziyun?"
"Who knows." Ding Chuan shrugged and informed him, "Today, you die."
Fei Qisheng licked his lips and gave a bitter smile. "Is that so?"
"You didn't bring a gun," Ding Chuan observed.
Fei Qisheng hadn't. He didn't think this was an occasion that required one. In fact, tonight they were supposed to be celebrating the exposure of Bai Shi.
"You die today. I am going to kill you," Ding Chuan announced.
Fei Qisheng took a step forward. Ding Chuan’s arm snapped up, the muzzle pointing directly at him.
"Are you prepared?" Ding Chuan asked.
"Don't threaten me. You know I can't be afraid." Fei Qisheng tossed his umbrella aside and faced Ding Chuan directly, his gaze as open and honest as ever. The rain quickly drenched him.
The corner of Ding Chuan’s mouth curled in disdain. "You really have no remorse."
"Remorse for what? Catching you?" Fei Qisheng looked at him. "I truly don't regret it."
Ding Chuan stared at him, neither speaking nor firing.
"If you're waiting for me to beg for mercy, I'm afraid you'll be waiting a long time." Fei Qisheng smiled. "I never beg, and as you know, I never admit I'm wrong."
Ding Chuan moved forward, pressing the gun against Fei Qisheng’s forehead. The force made him sway, but Fei Qisheng quickly pushed back. His eyes beneath the muzzle were brilliant. "Don't expect an apology from me. We could never stand on the same side. From the moment I approached you, I was prepared. A criminal doesn't change just because he likes to tell jokes or is kind to people. At the end of the day, he is still a killer, still a sinner. I know this better than anyone."
"So you think I am evil." Ding Chuan laughed.
Fei Qisheng allowed a rare smile. "My old man was a narcotics cop. He was also undercover. From the time I was born, I only saw him three times in over a decade. Once when I was two—we took a photo. Once when I was five—we took a photo. And the third time was his funeral when I was thirteen. I said I wanted to be a pallbearer, but they wouldn't let me because they were afraid the narcos would come for revenge. It rained the day he was buried. I hid behind a tree and watched. Four men carried the coffin, covered in the national flag. I saluted along with them when he was lowered into the ground. I didn't visit his grave for the first time until I graduated from the police academy. I didn't become a cop for revenge, or because I idolized him. It was simply because he and I believed in the same thing. The older I get, the more steadfast I become. Corrupt officials like Bai Yilong, fierce bandits like the Dark Fire Gang, thugs like you..." Fei Qisheng pushed forward, the muzzle leaving a red mark on his forehead. "I know they can't all be eliminated. I know the water is deep and the stakes are high. But someone has to take the step. You think I’d be afraid? You think I’d be sorry? That is an insult to me. What are Bai Yilong and Bai Shi that they dare threaten me? And what are you, that you dare threaten me?"
Ding Chuan laughed as if he had heard the greatest joke in the world. "You really are disgusting."
Fei Qisheng was calm. "I live only to see criminals brought to justice."
Ding Chuan took a step back, holding the gun more steadily in a better firing position. "Then I die only to have my revenge."
Fei Qisheng looked at him expressionlessly. Two drenched wolves stood at a stalemate on the rooftop. Every breath sounded like it could be the last—clear and heavy.
Ding Chuan stopped laughing. "The fact that I didn't kill your son is already an act of mercy."
Fei Qisheng’s expression finally faltered. "Tangtang... she wasn't part of the plan..."
Ding Chuan hissed through gritted teeth, "You think you're worthy of speaking her name?"
Fei Qisheng looked at the muzzle of Ding Chuan’s gun. It didn't waver in the slightest. He had known for a long time that the man holding it was a master marksman. It was strange; at the final moment, Fei Qisheng felt very peaceful. He didn't look at Ding Chuan’s face; he only looked at the muzzle. Then, he suddenly remembered when they were both very young, and Ding Chuan had taught him how to shoot while he pretended not to know how.
Ding Chuan had always been patient—a patient big brother. Ding Chuan taught him how to strip a gun, how to assemble it, how to chamber a round, how to aim, and how to pull the trigger.
Just like now.
A violent gunshot, accompanied by a spark, roared through the rainy night. Fei Qisheng fell.
Someone nearby let out a heart-wrenching scream: "DAD—!!!!!!!!!"
Immediately following was a second gunshot. The frail Ding Chuan was hit and collapsed instantly.
Fei Zuohua dropped the gun he had just fired and stumbled toward his father. He saw a massive patch of crimson soaking through his father’s clothes at the abdomen. Deep red blood was surging out. Dizzy and nauseous, he stripped off his own jacket to cover the wound, but the blood quickly soaked through the fabric, and his hands were soon submerged in it.
Fei Qisheng was still gasping. He coughed up mouthfuls of blood, looking at his terrified son. He thought he had to say something to leave behind, so that when his lonely son remembered him in the future, he wouldn't only remember this sea of blood and the years of failed reconciliation.
So he desperately swallowed the blood, forcing it down, and struggled to open his mouth. "Fei Zuohua..."
Fei Zuohua raised his eyes, which were red and filled with tears. He looked at his father, trembling, his teeth clenched in agony.
Fei Qisheng stared into his eyes, swallowing the rising blood with a gurgling sound that was almost terrifying. "Take care of your mother..."
Fei Zuohua continued to shake.
Fei Qisheng forced out his final words: "I’m sorry... I couldn't spend more time with you..."
He tried to reach out to touch his son’s tear-stained face. He was grateful to Ding Chuan’s unsteady aim for allowing him this last sentence. He lifted his hand, but before he could reach, it fell.
Fei Zuohua stared at the lifeless body. He sat there in the rain, cradling him in a daze for a long time before he finally reacted, collapsing over him and weeping uncontrollably.
***
Glossary Table:
