Present
“Du Jing!” Zhou Luoyang’s landing was gentler this time. His vision was spotty again, but he quickly pulled his seatbelt off and staggered toward the sea of fire.
Furious flames engulfed the forest. Zhou Luoyang hauled Du Jing out of the fire and batted the flames from his clothes.
Du Jing was in much better condition than the previous time. His left arm dangled limply, and his right arm was slung over Zhou Luoyang’s shoulder as they stumbled out of the trees.
The barking of dogs and the murmur of human voices reached them. The KCR had arrived.
“Who exactly are they?” Zhou Luoyang asked disbelievingly. His face was bruised.
“Mercenaries,” Du Jing panted softly. “Something must have gone wrong at some point.”
Zhou Luoyang was afraid to force Du Jing to run; if he did run now, he would not be able to move quickly. If they were seen, they would be caught sooner or later. They ducked out of view, and Zhou Luoyang quickly and quietly filled Du Jing in on what had transpired in the first 24 hours.
“Could it be…someone sold us out?” he asked.
“It’s a possibility,” Du Jing replied simply, “but the KCR still doesn’t know who I really am, so it can’t have been someone on Huang Ting’s side.”
Zhou Luoyang, having been reminded of this fact, now realized, too, that this was a problem. Hong Hou thought that besides being the owner of an antiques store, Du Jing was simply a police officer! Why did he come to that conclusion? Because the KCR had captured Huang Ting and Zhuang Li, too? So he had mistakenly assumed that the four of them were colleagues!
“As long as Huang Ting and Zhuang Li manage to escape, they won’t be able to confirm our identities…When Hong Hou met with me, I was able to trick him into giving me the Eye of Forseti,” said Du Jing.
“Hold onto it. I’m going to draw them away. If you manage to get away, try to rewind it after noon today. If you don’t, rewind it before they catch you. That way we’ll return to noon of the day before.”
Du Jing pressed Zhou Luoyang down, but Zhou Luoyang said, “No, let me go.”
He pushed Du Jing away and quietly urged, “Look for Huang Ting! We have to make sure they’re still alive! There’s no chance I can escape from a place like this! It’s hard enough to keep yourself safe!”
Du Jing’s chances of escaping were obviously much greater than Zhou Luoyang’s, seeing as he’d received specialized wilderness survival training.
Du Jing clung tight to Zhou Luoyang’s wrist. They stared silently at each other.
His lips moved. He seemed to want to say something.
“Luoyang.”
Zhou Luoyang nodded, a gesture that meant don’t worry. Then he turned around and ran towards the voices.
Du Jing watched silently as Zhou Luoyang ran off. His eyes, in the darkness, resembled those of a bloodthirsty leopard.
Zhou Luoyang slowly trudged towards the mercenaries with both hands in the air. The enemy surrounded him in the darkness. One of them struck him with a gun, and he blacked out.
When he woke up, he found himself in the hospital bed again. Once again, he went through nearly the exact same day.
“Where’s your friend?” Hong Hou politely asked this time around. “Are you convinced he’ll come save you?”
Zhou Luoyang thought about his previous conversation with Hong Hou. Du Jing should have successfully escaped by now.
Though he knew what Hong Hou would say next, he didn’t give any sign that he knew what was coming, so as not to alarm Hong Hou.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “You’ve attacked and abducted an academic. This will become a diplomatic issue.”
Hong Hou suddenly started to laugh. “A diplomatic issue? Mister Zhou, is archeology what really brought you to Cambodia?”
“What else?” Zhou Luoyang sauntered over to the side of the study and drew the katana from its scabbard. He glanced at it, then returned it to its scabbard.
Hong Hou pulled out a clear plastic bag that contained Sup’s lipstick gun.
“Then would you please explain,” Hong Hou said, “why an archeologist would have this?”
“It’s just for self-defense,” Zhou Luoyang said lightly.
“Why don’t we make an agreement? What do you say?”
Zhou Luoyang was given yesterday’s explanation of the game. Just when Hong Hou was about to speak again, Zhou Luoyang suddenly interrupted, “To put on a real-person competition and have sponsors place bets—do you have enough players for a game like this?”
“No,” Hong Hou admitted. “We’re missing one.”
“I recall a lot more than just six disappearances,” Zhou Luoyang said.
Hong Hou nodded. “Not everyone cooperates. When we selected candidates and brought them to the rest area, we found that some players were dreadfully incompetent. When it comes to games, you want players to do their best and have fun, right?”
Zhou Luoyang: “……”
Hong Hou continued, “It’s not easy filtering out the more talented contestants. Our audience is much pickier nowadays.”
“You killed the ones who refused to cooperate and the ones you deemed unfit?”
“They were taken care of,” Hong Hou said. “But you won’t be one of them.”
Zhou Luoyang’s hand was shaking, but this time, Hong Hou didn’t force him to decide then and there.
“Go back and consider it,” Hong Hou said. “I suspect our sixth candidate will join us very soon.”
Zhou Luoyang was taken to the guest room and put under house arrest again.
He glanced at the digital clock. It was 7:30 at night. This time, Du Jing had not turned back time—not to midnight1, nor to noon the day before. If he had activated the Eye of Forseti early in the morning, then while still unconscious, Zhou Luoyang should have returned to noon the day before.
Nothing happened that night, but Zhou Luoyang knew that Du Jing and Huang Ting might have reunited and begun searching for him by now.
This was the first time in months that he did not share a bed with Du Jing.
Strangely, he found that he was now the one who could not sleep. He could not fall asleep without Du Jing next to him. The information surrounding this case was growing tangled and complicated. All the fragmented clues presented in this twice-lived day seemed to coalesce into a new map with hidden depths.
What did they still not know?
Zhou Luoyang attempted to comb through the details of the case. It was all as Du Jing had previously hypothesized; there were no major deviations from his predictions. The organization that Hong Hou ran abducted people from China and other countries to Cambodia, where they forced them to participate in a real escape game as entertainment for the rich and powerful.
He could tell from the captions of the promotional video that Hong Hou raked in profits from selling each season’s admission tickets and encouraging the audience to place bets. Drugs, arms, artifact trafficking, and so on…the money that the KCR needed to go against the government and sustain its mercenaries was collected through business dealings on the dark web.
They had selected Xiao Wu and Lu Zhongyu as contestants in advance. Hong Hou called the escape games that these people played in foreign countries “the selection.” In other words, the first round of screening took place through the cameras of the escape rooms.
Thanks to a strange combination of factors, Zhou Luoyang and Du Jing had accidentally joined the selection, and thus left behind a record of themselves.
But how did Hong Hou discover them on their pursuit from China to Cambodia? At what stage had their identities been revealed? Sure, it made sense that they raised alarms on their first appearance at the transfer point, but they had turned back time soon after.
When the mercenaries attacked them, they had already known that Du Jing and Zhou Luoyang were on the helicopter. Zhou Luoyang thought back to the feeling of being watched back at Mariamman Temple several days ago. Maybe the enemy had been watching them ever since then.
But before entering Mariamman Temple, Ruan Song had not yet spotted them, so it should not have been Ruan Song that had been alerted to their identities.
The only possibility was that someone had known they were traveling from Wan City to Hong Kong, and then to Ho Chi Minh. This person had informed Hong Hou in advance, but Hong Hou was unable to pinpoint them within Ho Chi Minh.
The proof was in the fact that he still had not mentioned Huang Ting yet.
That’s right! Zhou Luoyang finally zeroed in on the most important fact: Hong Hou hadn’t mentioned Huang Ting!
Earlier, he had said “your friend,” not “your friends!”
He didn’t know of Hung Ting and Zhuang Li’s existence, only his and Du Jing’s!
So perhaps Hong Hou’s informant didn’t know about Huang Ting.
But there remained an even more pressing concern: the informant didn’t seem to know what Du Jing’s true identity was, or else he had deliberately hidden Du Jing’s true identity from Hong Hou.
Who exactly was this person?
Zhou Luoyang sorted through the facts, but it only made him even more confused. He was certain that Du Jing was engaging in the same analysis at present. Blearily, half-asleep and half-awake, he dreamed of the moment the helicopter crashed. The weightlessness caused him to hover in the air above his seat. But in the blink of an eye, he reappeared in Du Jing’s Ferrari.
Du Jing drove the car to its highest speed. In the split second that its wheels left the edge of the cliff, Zhou Luoyang turned to look at him.
Du Jing released the steering wheel and leaned towards him, slipping a hand around his waist. At the abyss between life and death, he leaned down and kissed him on the lips.
The door of the guest room opened with a noise.
Zhou Luoyang jerked awake. The sun blinded him. He panted.
His pants were damp. Zhou Luoyang hadn’t lost control from a dream in nearly half a month.
“The boss wants you to wash up as quickly as you can and come with us,” a bodyguard said in English.”
“Get out,” Zhou Luoyang ordered impatiently, his brow furrowed.
He hastily showered and changed into the clothing and cotton underpants laid out in the closet. Service in the manor was very thorough; all the daily necessities were already prepared for him.
He put on a white shirt and black shorts and stepped into a pair of sneakers before exiting the room.
Two guards led him downstairs.
The manor was bigger than he had imagined. It seemed there was a whole other wing where external business was taking place. Zhou Luoyang could hear cars, but when he tried to look outside, the guards would not let him; they closed in on either side of him and ushered him briskly down a set of stairs and into an ostentatious hall.
It was an enormous casino filled with poker tables and slot machines. Zhou Luoyang saw people playing baccarat. It was a melting pot of Southeast Asian people, Chinese people, and white people.
The guards led Zhou Luoyang to a poker table and pulled a chair out for him.
Hong Hou was sitting on the other side, playing Texas hold ’em with Du Jing.
“He’s here. And now? What will you bet?” Hong Hou said to Du Jing.
Zhou Luoyang looked at Du Jing wordlessly. Du Jing looked back at him, checking to make sure he was uninjured.
There was a bruise at the corner of Du Jing’s eye from the crash landing in the forest. His complexion was healthier. There was a bandage on the side of his face.
Du Jing didn’t speak to Zhou Luoyang, and instead asked Hong Hou, “What do you want to bet?”
Du Jing wore a white shirt and trousers. He smoothed the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the Eye of Forseti sitting on his wrist.
Zhou Luoyang could see that it was past noon, and that the watch was still on him, and his mind was set at rest.
“Shall we bet him?” Hong Hou smirked. “If you win, you can take him with you.”
“If I lose, then I’ll stay here with him, of course. That’s fair.”
Hong Hou lit a cigarette. “Will you do it?”
“Don’t,” Zhou Luoyang said.
Du Jing waved his hand. It’s okay.
Zhou Luoyang placed his hand on Du Jing’s wrist, over the Eye of Forseti. Just as he was about to turn it, Du Jing settled his other hand on the back of Zhou Luoyang’s, holding it still.
The dealer started the game again. Du Jing ate his candy and picked up his card(s). He fanned them out with his thumb for Zhou Luoyang to see.
A three of spades.
Zhou Luoyang didn’t say anything. Both players revealed their cards. Hong Hou started to laugh. He showed Du Jing his cards; Du Jing had lost.
“Wonderful,” he said.
“Wonderful,” Du Jing echoed. “If I die, leave all the award money to him and let him leave this place alive.”
Hong Hou said seriously, “There’s no guarantee that the final victors will be you two. But if the victor is indeed one of you, then I will do as you say.”
“I’ll do my best,” Du Jing said carelessly.
“I look forward to seeing you in action. We greatly respect voluntary players.”
“You…” Zhou Luoyang began.
Du Jing placed one arm around Zhou Luoyang’s shoulders and leaned in close. His lips barely moved. His breath smelled like coffee candy.
He gazed intently into Zhou Luoyang’s eyes. “We are destined to be together wherever we go.”
And so Du Jing and Zhou Luoyang moved into the same suite. There were two days until the competition.
This time, Hong Hou provided them with excellent hospitality. The cameras remained, but their room had improved, certainly thanks to Du Jing’s voluntary arrival.
Those who entered this sort of competition by choice knew they would have to bear the consequences. Most did it for money, and their courage deserved praise. The KCR naturally treated those who knowingly sought death with ample respect.
“In previous competitions like this,” Zhou Luoyang said, “have there been others who joined voluntarily?”
“Maybe.” Du Jing entered the room and began unbuttoning his shirt and slipping out of his trousers. “We just wouldn’t know. Not everyone who wants to participate has a chance. If you broke down and started screaming and crying as soon as you started playing these real-life death games, it would drastically decrease the game’s entertainment factor.”
“How did they decide that I was suited for the game?” Zhou Luoyang could not for the life of him figure it out.
Du Jing studied his own half-naked figure in the mirror. He had collected multiple scratches in yesterday’s crash.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe they could see that you’re quick-witted? Wife, help me put on this ointment. I can’t reach my back.”
Zhou Luoyang watched Du Jing. Du Jing handed him the salve and sat down with his back to him.
“How did you find this place?”
“Simple. I waited for half an hour in a nearby town. They found me, of course, and brought me here.”
Zhou Luoyang didn’t ask him if he’d made any plans or arrangements. He knew that since Du Jing had gotten here successfully, he must have come prepared.
He had to admit that this was a clever move. Whereas they once were captured and bound, Du Jing had now seized the upper hand. Hong Hou was not at all concerned with concealing their location or what Du Jing was capable of.
Hong Hou controlled a militia, fostered close ties to Vietnam, and provided services to many Western tycoons. So long as China and the US didn’t drop bombs over his base, not even the Cambodian government could stop him.
He shifted the blame for the foreign disappearances onto Vietnam—people went missing while touring Ho Chi Minh City.
Zhou Luoyang applied the salve to Du Jing’s back. He pulled his shirt back on but left it open at the chest. He turned and looked at him. Their eyes met. They knew that they were being watched and listened to.
“Did you miss me?” Du Jing gently flicked Zhou Luoyang’s cheek.
“A little bit,” Zhou Luoyang replied. “What do we do now?”
He knew Hong Hou could see what they were doing whenever he pleased, and so they acted like same-sex lovers.
“Sleep,” Du Jing said. “I’m tired. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours.”
Zhou Luoyang lay in bed. Du Jing stretched his arm out, offering it to him as a pillow. When he pulled his arm back, it brought Zhou Luoyang into his firm embrace.
Zhou Luoyang could hear his heartbeat.
At a volume audible to only the two of them, Du Jing breathed into his ear:
“He doesn’t know a thing. He thinks we’re in Cambodia for archeology. You’re an antiques dealer that Sotheby’s invited, and I’m your bodyguard.”
“That’s impossible,” Zhou Luoyang whispered. “He’s already found Sup’s silencer pistol.
Zhou Luoyang wanted to ask if Huang Ting and Zhuang Li had escaped, but now was not the time for stupid mistakes. He swallowed the words back.
At the same time, he was reminded of Huang Ting’s colleague who still had yet to show up, the one who had been discharged from the Peacekeeping Forces. Maybe this hidden chess piece would unexpectedly come in handy.
“Trust me. I’ve already guessed who sold us out.” Du Jing’s lips barely moved. He let go of Zhou Luoyang a little to shift into a more comfortable position, slinging his arm around him and his leg over his waist, as if he were clutching a stuffed animal. He had placed Zhou Luoyang in the safe circle of his embrace. Then he shut his eyes and his breath evened out. He was asleep.
Footnotes:
- ?? I think Fei-ge made a mistake here? If it’s only 7:30 PM, ZLY wouldn’t know yet if DJ activated the watch between 12 PM and 7:30 PM, because he would only be tossed back to midnight (when the plane crash happened) once it reached 12 AM–still 4.5 hours to go! He can only be sure right now that DJ didn’t activate the watch between the midnight of the plane crash and noon of the current day. (Back)
Translated by beansprout. Edited by opal.
beansprout translates 
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