Chapter 190 44

Chapter 190, Page 44

The afternoon conversation in the provincial office continued.

Deputy Director Zhang's face was grim as he lowered his head and said, "When Jiang Zhirui died, I happened to be on a task nearby. Although it wasn't under my jurisdiction, I rushed over as soon as I heard the news."

"He died on the spot, before the ambulance could even arrive."

"That child shot the drug dealer who killed his father, called the police, and sat alone on the stairs, holding a gun, waiting for the police to handle the situation."

Even after all these years, Deputy Director Zhang's eyes still welled up with tears as he recounted these events.

He Lin sat across from him, listening quietly.

He had long known about Rong Qing's father's death and had even seen Li Shang move his parents' ashes, but this was the first time he had heard these details.

In He Lin's mind, the image of Rong Qing gradually began to merge with that of Jiang Shangxue as a child, sitting in the hallway doing his homework.

Many of his doubts finally found answers.

He understood where Rong Qing's unwavering pursuit of justice came from.

Deputy Director Zhang continued, "I later helped him with his father's funeral. He was strong, unlike any child his age."

"Since I had worked with his father for many years, I wanted to look after him after such a tragedy. But that child was so fiercely independent it was heartbreaking. I couldn't do much to help, so I could only keep an eye on him quietly."

"Rong Qing lived up to his father's expectations. He attended the police academy with outstanding grades and was specifically recruited to the base. He was the youngest but always took on the most dangerous missions without a single complaint. His training and execution of tasks were impeccable, earning no criticism even from the seasoned veterans at the base. Zhao Lingyue was fond of him, and Shi Ren treated him like a younger brother."

"But I could see that in some ways, especially in his stubbornness, he truly took after his father."

Without the earlier context, He Lin might have nodded in agreement and added, "Yes, stubborn as a mule, impossible to sway."

But now, He Lin couldn't say a word. All he wanted was to go back to the day he argued with Li Shang and slap his past self for accusing Li Shang of being obsessive.

He Lin had always believed he understood Li Shang, but after hearing Deputy Director Zhang's stories, he realized how foolishly arrogant he had been. The foolish things he had done deserved nothing less than Li Shang's wrath.

It made He Lin even more eager to get home. He desperately wanted to see Li Shang, apologize, and beg for forgiveness.

While He Lin was on the verge of breaking down from sorrow, Deputy Director Zhang seemed rather pleased. Finally, someone was willing to listen to an old man reminisce, and he talked with He Lin for quite a while.

He spoke of Jiang Shangxue as a child, his time at the police academy, and his early days at Tianning Base.

These were all sides of him that He Lin had never seen.

It was a completely different perspective.

As He Lin listened, he felt both familiar yet strange.

The more he learned, the more his heart ached.

He Lin found himself imagining himself as Jiang Shangxue, who lost his mother at a young age, with Rong Qing, who was forced to grow up too soon, and with Li Shang, who now battled illness and misunderstanding. He couldn't help but feel indignant on Li Shang's behalf. Li Shang had done his best—what right did He Lin have to criticize him?

The more he learned, the more he understood Li Shang's determination and the reasons behind his choices.

By the time their conversation ended, it was already past three in the afternoon. He Lin finally got his phone back and quickly called a car service to Yuncheng.

Checking the time, he decided not to text Li Shang. Words felt too inadequate now. He had so much he wanted to say, and he wanted to say it all to Li Shang in person.

How sorry he was, and how much he loved him.

The car arrived quickly. He Lin got in and sat in the back seat, scrolling through his phone to handle work matters and messages.

The driver played the radio, which broadcast the latest news at home and abroad, including updates on the recent joint law enforcement operation between two countries.

With the operation concluded, many trafficking victims had returned home, and the news reported on the successful operation.

The media praised the operation highly, highlighting the emotional reunions of families.

The reports naturally didn't mention the names of those involved, but as He Lin listened, his mind filled with the image of that one person in particular.

There was also an interview with one of the rescued victims, a young girl who tearfully expressed her gratitude, feeling as though she had been given a second chance at life.

But where in this world are there any saviors? Only ordinary people burning the candle at both ends to save others.

He Lin put down his phone and looked out the window. The scenery flashed by as the car sped along.

Outside, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the forests. Dusk was approaching.

He was getting closer to Yuncheng, closer to that person.

At the end of the broadcast, the host expressed the highest respect on behalf of the public for the police officers involved in the operation and offered best wishes for the future of the rescued victims.

It seemed everything was moving in a positive direction, and everyone's lives were returning to normal.

***

Exhausted from the journey and without having eaten a bite, He Lin hurried home.

But when he finally arrived and stood before the password lock at his doorstep, knowing the person he had been longing for was waiting behind that door, he suddenly felt a sense of nervous apprehension.

As he entered the password and the lock clicked open, He Lin's hands, usually steady enough to hold a gun, trembled uncontrollably. The door handle felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

He quickly ran through everything he wanted to say to Li Shang. Since parting ways in Country J, he had rehearsed his words countless times, crafting and refining each sentence.

He wanted to comfort Li Shang, to tell him how much he loved him.

But the moment the door opened and he saw Li Shang, He Lin realized how inadequate words were—even the carefully chosen ones he had prepared felt utterly powerless in the face of reality.

It was evening, and the setting sun cast long shadows. The thick curtains in the living room were drawn, but a sliver of faint light seeped through the gap between them, slanting across the edge of the sofa like a crack of dawn.

Li Shang was lying on the sofa in that patch of light. Hearing He Lin enter, he slowly sat up.

The light shifted, falling across his face, highlighting his high brow bone and the red mole beneath his collarbone.

The beam of light seemed to split Li Shang into two halves—one vivid and real, the other hazy and illusional.

To He Lin, the sight was heartbreaking and deeply sorrowful.

Li Shang had always been a composed and self-controlled person, rarely so disheveled.

Now, He Lin noticed Li Shang's slightly messy hair and his pale, frail appearance, even under the warm glow of the sunset.

In just a few days, Li Shang had grown thinner and more haggard. The corners of his eyes were faintly red, and though his posture was upright, he seemed fragile, as if on the verge of collapsing.

Though he had sat up, Li Shang remained motionless and silent, staring blankly in He Lin's direction with an expressionless face.

Li Shang was still somewhat dazed. Since returning from Country J, he hadn't had a full night's sleep, tormented by nightmares almost every night.

Although he had proactively seen a doctor and started taking medication on time, the effects were minimal. The medicine might have kept him from suffering as intensely as the night before, but Li Shang still felt unwell.

He knew his chronic condition hadn't developed overnight and couldn't be cured instantly. Still, he couldn't help feeling disheartened. Coupled with his sleepless nights, he had quickly gone downhill.

Last night, Li Shang barely slept at all and spent today lying in a daze on the sofa, unwilling to eat, speak, or move.

He had no idea how long he had been lying there, so even after sitting up, he remained uncertain whether the person before him was a dream or reality.

His gaze toward He Lin held neither surprise nor blame—only dazed and disoriented.

Seeing Li Shang so fragile, He Lin felt his heart twist.

All the carefully rehearsed words he had prepared now vanished from his mind, one after another.

He Lin couldn't recall a single word, nor did he want to speak any. All he wanted was to go over and hold Li Shang.

And so he did. He hurried over, even sinking to his knees heedlessly, wrapping his arms firmly around Li Shang's waist and burying his head against his chest.

He held on tightly, as if trying to press the person in front of him into his very being.

He Lin's heart pounded wildly, blood rushing through his veins. Profound remorse surged from deep within, making it hard to breathe: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Apart from apologies, He Lin didn't know what else to say—nothing seemed enough to convey his guilt. Especially when holding Li Shang, he could feel Li Shang stiffened momentarily.

Li Shang stayed quiet, letting himself be held. He didn't push He Lin away, nor did he speak. Instead, he first raised a hand to touch his own chest, as if verifying if this was truly happening.

After all, the same scene had haunted him again and again the night before. Li Shang had gone from initial shock and anguish to numbness and disbelief.

He Lin could barely bring himself to imagine how much worse Li Shang would have suffered if he had returned any later.

In the same room, under the same circumstances, He Lin recalled the day they had argued—also at dusk.

Fragmented memories surged with emotion, countless moments converging into one, making his eyes well up.

Even feeling his own beating heart, Li Shang could scarcely believe that the He Lin before him was real. He feared it was still a dream, another illusion. He didn't dare move, afraid that when he woke, the person before him would vanish once more.

In the living room, the last trace of sunlight faded, replaced by a soft, moonlit glow.

It wasn't until Li Shang felt a tear drip onto the back of his hand that he blinked lightly, finally regaining his awareness.

He turned his head slightly and reached out hesitantly to touch the face of He Lin, who was still holding him. Only when the damp sensation reached his fingertips did Li Shang's scattered senses finally returned to him as he felt He Lin's warmth.

Li Shang's hand moved from He Lin's face upward, gently tracing the scar on his head.

His He Lin had finally returned.

By the time Li Shang realized this, his tears had already soaked He Lin's hair.

The sky outside had gradually darkened, and the remaining faint light could no longer penetrate the curtains. The two of them embraced in the shadows, not saying a word, yet the air seemed filled with their wordless yearning.