Chapter 45: Do you hate me?

Present

“Wait!” Huang Ting cried out, but the effort was futile.

“Have you gone crazy?” Huang Ting was wholly unable to accept Du Jing’s abrupt, explosive, reckless madness.

Gunshots sounded. In the blink of an eye, Du Jing had leapt over the wire fence. Zhou Luoyang broke out of a momentary daze, then pulled open the car door, darted inside, and started the engine.

“Let’s go!” Zhou Luoyang chose to trust Du Jing in that moment. If he, too, ran into the forest, Du Jing and Huang Ting would need to protect him, which would only hinder them.

He jerked the steering wheel, and the car spun around, speeding down the hill and onto the dirt road. Zhou Luoyang turned around, and all the blood in his body froze—

—Du Jing raced across the untamed land, empty-handed, as two locals burst from the trees, each wielding a PKM machine gun and firing at Du Jing!

Du Jing rolled forward, continuing to close in on the two, even as the ground behind him exploded into debris.

“Watch the road!” Huang Ting hollered.

The sky would soon grow dark. Zhou Luoyang whipped his head around, narrowly avoiding hitting a tree. Huang Ting loudly urged, “Focus on driving! Leave the backup to me!”

In the passenger seat, Huang Ting unwrapped the long object he was carrying as the sound of firearms continued. In a matter of seconds, he had assembled a sniper rifle. 

“Don’t look at me!” he said. “Get as close as possible!”

Zhou Luoyang hit the gas and sped onto the main road. Huang Ting rolled down the window and set the sniper rifle on the window’s edge. At the same time, Du Jing had already jumped into the shrubbery encircling the forest. He knocked down one of the armed men, seizing his PKM, then quickly spun around and took cover with his back to a tree.

But a series of submachine gunshots burst from the forest, and bullets sprayed from the trees.

Zhou Luoyang accelerated as much as the car could go, barreling straight through the wire fence.

Huang Ting secured Du Jing’s phone to the dash. Its screen displayed the video feed from within the forest. As he watched the feed and the car sped ahead, he shot blindly yet skillfully into the trees.

Bang! The deafening sound made Zhou Luoyang’s eardrums throb painfully.

The gunshots coming from the forest were instantly silenced. Du Jing decisively stepped away from the tree and charged in!

More bangs. Zhou Luoyang’s heart leapt to his throat. It all happened so fast. Du Jing was already dragging Zhuang Li out of the forest.

“Watch your back!” Zhou Luoyang jerked the steering wheel, and the car drifted to an abrupt stop at the edge of the trees.

“You almost threw me out of the car!” Huang Ting complained.

Zhou Luoyang quickly swung the car door open and slammed the gas pedal down. The back tires spun fruitlessly, spraying mud in the air. The timing was just right—Du Jing ran to the front of the car, dragging Zhuang Li behind him. Still, a figure chased them from the forest.

Huang Ting fired another shot. It hit the pursuer, who collapsed with a shout. Du Jing pushed Zhuang Li into the car and yelled, “I told you to wait on the road!”

“Don’t waste your breath!” Zhou Luoyang reversed and turned the car around. He slammed the gas pedal all the way down, and the off-road vehicle burst through the other side of the wire fencing, making straight for the road.

“Drive carefully!” Huang Ting said.

Zhou Luoyang nearly ran into a walking tractor in the village. Hearing the commotion, several villagers spilled out of their homes to see what was happening. Countless people watched as the car sped away.

The silence in the car was punctuated only by Zhou Luoyang’s heavy breathing.

“Jing-ge?” Zhuang Li said shakily.

Du Jing didn’t answer.

“You drive.” Zhou Luoyang pulled over and switched seats with Huang Ting, then hopped into the back and gave Zhuang Li a shove. “Get in the front.”

Du Jing half-lay in the backseat, panting hard. Zhou Luoyang bent down and saw in the sunlight that Du Jing’s ribs and side were covered in blood.

“He’s been shot,” Zhou Luoyang said in a trembling voice. “We need to…to see a doctor.”

“No,” Du Jing said.

“Are you mad?!” Zhou Luoyang snapped.

Huang Ting drove the car forward. “Is it bad?”

“It’s bad…” Zhou Luoyang said. “It’s pretty bad.”

Zhou Luoyang pressed down on the wound. Blood continued to seep out. It was just like when Du Jing had been shot by Sup as they fled Victoria Harbor not long ago.

Du Jing’s hand still had strength. He gripped Zhou Luoyang’s wrist tightly and held his gaze silently.

“We need to find a secure hospital. The KCR has an extensive network in Ho Chi Minh. They’ll have heard about this shootout as soon as it ended. As soon as a hospital sounds the alarm, they’ll capture all of us,” Huang Ting said.

Zhuang Li’s voice shook. “You two get out of the car, and I’ll take Jing-ge to the hospital. This way we won’t all be detained. You two can break us out later.” 

“You won’t be able to escape once they’ve got you,” Huang Ting said.

“What’s the KCR?” Zhou Luoyang asked.

“The Vietnamese Armed Democratic Freedom Fighters,” Huang Ting replied solemnly. One hand on the steering wheel, he leaned over to inspect Du Jing’s wound. “Created by Huu Chanh Nguyen to fight the Viet Cong¹. They have close ties with the US. The money laundering and the disappearances have to do with them².”

“I’ll take him,” Zhou Luoyang declared grimly. “You two find somewhere to hide for now. Let’s not waste any more time. We’re visiting archeological scholars. You two should split up and get to work immediately. Huang Ting, go to the Chinese embassy. Zhuang Li, you head to the French embassy.”

Zhuang Li said, “I’m just worried that it won’t do much good if I go, and instead…”

“Listen to him,” Du Jing finally said.

The car stopped at the hospital. Zhuang Li didn’t put up any more protest. Hands slick with blood, Zhou Luoyang half-carried Du Jing out of the car. Huang Ting did not linger and immediately drove away.

It was nearing dusk and raining in Ho Chi Minh City. Doctors and nurses bustled around anxiously, moving Du Jing to an operating room. As Zhou Luoyang followed the gurney, he quietly urged, “Du Jing? Du Jing! Don’t fall asleep!”

Du Jing had been shot in the side. The injury was worse than last time’s. He kept his eyes open and fixed on Zhou Luoyang, though his gaze was vacant.

Zhou Luoyang arrived at the entrance of the operating room, heart racing. His only wish was that Du Jing could hold on, at least until midnight.

The door shut. Down the hall, patients stared at Zhou Luoyang. Hospital staff walked toward him. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he could more or less gather that they wanted him to pay.

Zhou Luoyang looked at the clock on the wall. 10:25.

In the reflective glass of the payment window, Zhou Luoyang saw four soldiers approaching him from behind. The leader of the group said something.

“Are you Mister Zhou?” one of the soldiers translated into Chinese. “Please come with us.”

“My boss is in surgery right now,” Zhou Luoyang said. “I need to pay for his procedure, first.”

“We’ll take care of that for you,” the military translator told him. “Don’t worry. Please, come.”

Zhou Luoyang wanted to stall for time, but the translator said, “Don’t make us do things the hard way. Your nonsense won’t fly with us.”

Zhou Luoyang had no choice but to leave the window. He looked at the operating room again, and then the four soldiers escorted him from the hospital and into an off-road vehicle parked outside.

Once in the car, two of the soldiers searched Zhou Luoyang.

“Please don’t touch me,” Zhou Luoyang said. “This concerns confidential archeological information. If you see something you aren’t supposed to see, the Chinese and French embassies will jointly come after you.”

One of the soldiers swept a wand over him, ostensibly to check for weapons. When he didn’t find any firearms, he did not continue searching his belongings.

“Hand over your passport.”

Zhou Luoyang didn’t try to fight them. The space within the car was small, and he was no match for them.

He gave the two men his passport.

They brought him into a dim office. The ceiling fan spun and spun, and the fluorescent lights were sickly white. Behind the desk sat a Vietnamese soldier of about fifty years.

“Please have a seat.” To his surprise, the Vietnamese soldier spoke Chinese. He looked from Zhou Luoyang’s passport to his face, comparing the two. 

“What did you come here for?” the military officer asked calmly.

Zhou Luoyang didn’t say anything. He looked up at the clock on the wall. Just thirty seconds to midnight.

Thirty seconds, twenty seconds, ten seconds…the hands of the clock overlapped.

Zhou Luoyang quickly spun around in the darkness. Du Jing’s strong arm immediately wrapped around him.

“I’m here,” Du Jing’s voice said. “It’s okay now.”

Zhou Luoyang panted in the dark and reached his hand under Du Jing’s T-shirt. Du Jing hugged him tight, burying his face in his shoulder.

They lay embracing in the bed, motionless in the dark.

The night before, they’d gone to bed early, never having suspected that such serious events would transpire in the subsequent 24 hours. 

Zhou Luoyang placed his hand on Du Jing’s waist. 

“Does it hurt?” he whispered.

Du Jing didn’t answer, only clutched him even tighter.

Their bodies pressed close together, and yet Zhou Luoyang was calm. Thank goodness it was all over. Thank goodness Du Jing held on until the last second.

He didn’t know what would have happened if Du Jing had died of blood loss within those 24 hours, but he didn’t want to try it a second time, nor did he want to conduct any experiments. 

“It’s alright.” All the strength drained from Zhou Luoyang’s body. “We’re safe now.”

He turned on the lamp. Du Jing shied from the bright light, his eyes shining with what seemed to be tears.

“We are absolutely not going back there tomorrow,” Zhou Luoyang said.

Du Jing shielded his eyes with a hand. “Turn the light off.”

After a brief embrace, they pulled apart. Zhou Luoyang turned off the light, but Du Jing sat up in the dark and said, “I can’t sleep. I’m going to sit outside for a bit.”

Zhou Luoyang had had a good scare. Now, he found himself drained. He hummed in agreement and said, “Call me if you need me.”

That night, Du Jing sat quietly on the balcony, retiring to bed only when the sun was about to rise. 

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When the next day came, Du Jing and Zhou Luoyang did not visit the Association for the Preservation of Relics again. Instead, they got in the car that morning and drove to the KCR transfer point from the previous evening.

Zhuang Li was lost. “Jing-ge! How…how did you know about this place? Unbelievable! It’s unbelievable!”

Zhou Luoyang was still a bit tired. Last night, he’d had a whole sequence of dreams and, tossing and turning, didn’t sleep well. Curled up in the passenger seat, he thought tiredly, We reloaded. Of course we know about the transfer point.

Du Jing didn’t respond. He opened the little black box, took out the realistic bird camera, and passed it to Zhou Luoyang.

“For you to play with,” Du Jing explained carelessly.

“Don’t yell at me when I smash it to pieces,” Zhou Luoyang warned.

“If it breaks then so be it.” Du Jing gently pinched Zhou Luoyang’s ear. The action was very suggestive. Zhou Luoyang’s ear immediately flushed red. 

“Hey!” Zhou Luoyang glared at him reproachfully. He shouldn’t be so touchy-feely in front of his subordinate.

He took Du Jing’s phone and flew the bird into the forest. Just like the day before, he landed it on a tree branch. The enemy had not yet arrived; the forest was empty save for a heap of boxes. Going by the day prior, the KCR would only arrive after the two of them had coffee and lunch.

“Let’s go,” Du Jing said, looking at his phone.

“We’re not keeping watch here?” Zhuang Li asked, puzzled.

“You want me to get shot again?”

The mood within the car suddenly spiked with tension. Zhuang Li sensed danger, but he couldn’t figure out why. Blankly, he asked, “W-what? Did you get shot? Jing-ge?”

“What are you doing?” Zhou Luoyang shot Du Jing an admonishing look. “Weirdo.”

Du Jing didn’t say anything else. In the previous 24 hours, they hadn’t even asked Zhuang Li how he’d been captured, but they could take a stab at it: Zhuang Li most likely had been wandering around asking questions, and this alarmed the enemy.

But now, in the repeat of the day, Zhuang Li was innocent. He didn’t do anything, so there was no need to blame him.

Zhuang Li turned the steering wheel, driving them away from the hill. Du Jing instructed, “Let Huang Ting know he doesn’t need to tail them anymore. Share the surveillance feed with him.”

Zhuang Li’s expression was one of pure confusion. Zhou Luoyang knew he must be thinking, How did you know Huang Ting is also following them?

Meanwhile, Huang Ting was even more confused—How did Du Jing know what he was up to?

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“I’m going for a run,” Du Jing told Zhou Luoyang.

He turned on the treadmill in the guesthouse. In a handful of hours, he would have an episode. Zhou Luoyang knew he must already be feeling signs of it.

Du Jing pushed himself to finish what needed to be done. He sent Zhuang Li off to wander the city, then stepped on the treadmill and ramped the speed all the way up. 

“I’ll run with you,” Zhou Luoyang said, and changed into sportswear.

“Don’t get sick again,” Du Jing said.

They began to run, feet thudding dully against the treadmills. From 11 AM onward, Du Jing ran for a solid four hours. Zhou Luoyang had to break every so often, panting as he collapsed on the couch.

Du Jing’s T-shirt was soaked through with sweat, so he shucked it off and ran in just his shorts, chest bare. The lean muscles of his back, his long, strong legs, and his expression—eyes closed, earbuds in, immersed in the run—painted the picture of a naked mirage in misty mountain rain.

Zhou Luoyang watched him in a daze, until finally, after four hours, Du Jing grew tired and lay down on the wooden floorboards with a thump. 

“Du Jing!” Zhou Luoyang rushed over to check on him.

Zhou Luoyang nearly slipped on the sweat-covered floor, but Du Jing quickly sat up and put his arms around him, steadying him.

“Luoyang,” Du Jing said softly, sitting on the wood floor half-naked with Zhou Luoyang in his arms, “I heard your voice that day. It was you. That person was you. I wouldn’t get that wrong.”

“What? What voice?” Zhou Luoyang asked blankly.

Du Jing and Zhou Luoyang looked at each other silently. Finally, Zhou Luoyang snapped out of it. “Feeling better?”

He got up, but Du Jing didn’t let go of his wrist. In that moment, there was a strange look in his eyes that threw Zhou Luoyang for a loop.

It was a look brimming with aggression. Zhou Luoyang suddenly realized where he’d seen that look before. It was after their reunion, in the bath house, when Du Jing had wrapped his hand around his neck.

“What are you thinking of doing?” Zhou Luoyang could sense impending danger.

Du Jing slipped his left hand over Zhou Luoyang’s throat and rested his right hand on the nape of his neck, silently studying him. He looked like he wanted to bend down and sink his teeth into the artery of Zhou Luoyang’s neck, or perhaps press their foreheads together and watch as he strangled him to death. 

Was he about to lose it? Zhou Luoyang became aware of a serious problem: Du Jing sometimes did lose it, especially when manic. In that state, it was impossible to make judgments about his mood as though he were any other person, nor could one predict what he was capable of.

He had to bring him out of it.

Abruptly, he bit down on Du Jing’s shoulder. Du Jing’s expression grew stormy.

Zhou Luoyang pushed his head away and stood up.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked coldly.

Du Jing spread his legs and sat in silence. He tipped his head down slightly, sweat dripping onto the ground in front of him.

“Du Jing, I felt…Did you want to kill me just now?”

“I thought about it.”

“Why?” Zhou Luoyang’s voice quavered. “Do you hate me?”

Du Jing looked up at him. That bit of danger in his eyes had vanished without a trace.

“No, it’s not hate. I was unwell,” Du Jing calmly said. “It was just a fleeting thought; I couldn’t control myself. I don’t know why.”

The doorbell rang. Zhuang Li was back.

Du Jing suddenly looked up and glanced at Zhou Luoyang. “If I really did it, would you fight back? Would you be scared? Would you be frightened?”

Zhou Luoyang walked to the door. “You’d kill yourself after you accidentally killed me.”

“Yes,” Du Jing agreed.

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Footnotes:

1. For more info: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Viet-Cong [Back]
2. I don’t think this is a real organization, but Huu Chanh Nguyen does seem to be a real person. He founded the anti-communist organization Government of Free Vietnam and later fled Vietnam for the USA. [Back]

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Translated by beansprout. Edited by opal.

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