Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“0723, you’re released.”

At the end of the wide asphalt road stood a heavy iron gate, reflecting a cold gleam under the sunlight.

With a creak, the gate was pushed open from the inside, accompanied by the monotone of the prison guard.

“Walk straight ahead. Don’t look back.”

The guard recited it routinely, but the baton in his hand tapped against the edge of the iron gate, betraying a hint of impatience.

A man stepped out slowly.

He had a buzz cut, slightly tanned skin, and handsome features. He wore a gray-blue hoodie, faded jeans, and black canvas shoes.

The overly youthful attire clashed with his actual age.

The moment the man stepped through the gate, it slammed shut behind him. The breeze it stirred gently ruffled the hem of his clothes.

The man paused for a moment, then walked straight ahead.

He didn’t glance anywhere else, apparently sure no one would come to pick him up.

Chu Heng sat in his car, taking in the scene. He took the last drag of his cigarette, stubbed it out in the ashtray, then rolled down all four windows.

After the smoke in the car dissipated, Chu Heng closed the windows, released the handbrake, shifted gears, and drove straight up to the man, pulling up alongside him.

The man stopped, turned to look, a flicker of surprise passing through his calm eyes.

The car windows were tinted with privacy film; the man only saw his own reflection on the glass.

The film was one-way. Chu Heng tilted his head, sizing him up for a while, clearly observing every change in the man’s expression.

Still the same as ever, unflappable, even seeming more withdrawn now. If anything, there was an added touch of earnestness. Unlike before, where a closer look would reveal sharpness and shrewdness plainly visible in his eyes.

The car beside him sat idle for a long while. The man withdrew his gaze and continued walking forward, apparently not even planning to glance back through the front windshield to see the driver.

Chu Heng stepped on the gas again, catching up. This time, he didn’t leave him hanging; he leaned over directly and opened the passenger door.

Just like that, their eyes met.

Chu Heng was still leaning over in the act of opening the door, looking up, only able to see the man’s sharply defined jawline, his straight nose, and his lowered eyelids.

He slowly withdrew his hand, straightened up, and his left hand resting on the steering wheel drummed his fingers absently a few times. Then, looking at the man, he smiled. “Boss Chen, need a ride?”

Chen Jinsheng looked at Chu Heng, frozen for a second.

He hadn’t seen this person in seven years.

In his memory, he was still a greenhorn. Now, at first glance, he seemed to have settled considerably. Chen Jinsheng’s gaze slowly swept over the young man’s face, finally landing on the ashtray in the center console. There were several cigarette butts inside.

He didn’t used to smoke, at the very least.

Chu Heng also submitted to the inspection, going quiet after saying that one sentence.

After a while, Chen Jinsheng got in, closed the door, and fastened his seatbelt, his movements somewhat clumsy.

The car was very new. Inside, apart from an ashtray, there were no other personal items. It clearly didn’t see much use.

The prison was built in the suburbs, desolate and remote. The car met no traffic all the way, finally stopping at the last traffic light before entering the city.

Chu Heng rummaged in the storage compartment, pulled out a face mask, unwrapped it, and put it on. He pulled down the sun visor, hesitated for a moment, then reached over and pulled down the passenger side sun visor as well.

Since getting in the car, Chen Jinsheng had kept his head turned, looking out the window. Chu Heng glanced at him; his movements had gone unnoticed.

The traffic light at the intersection turned green. Chu Heng withdrew his gaze and focused on driving.

He had the day off for once, his hair unstyled. Fine, soft bangs fell across his forehead, partially covering his eyebrows. The black mask made his skin look even paler. He had fine features, almost flawless, making it clear at a glance he was someone who lived a privileged life.

He drove steadily, heading toward the city center. The tall buildings along the road slid past. The sky shifted from blue to dusky yellow. The city’s neon lights gradually lit up, reflecting on the car windows, also illuminating Chen Jinsheng’s serene eyes.

Unlike what Chu Heng expected, Chen Jinsheng didn’t seem curious or uncomfortable with the drastically changed world outside.

The world changed fast. He had realized that even before he went in seven years ago.

After a brief observation, his attention shifted to himself. Watching his own reflection in the car window, sometimes blurry, sometimes clear, he suddenly noticed fine lines had already appeared at the corners of his eyes.

Inconspicuous, but there all the same.

He shifted his gaze slightly, his eyes finally landing on another face in the window reflection that wasn’t his own.

Just a pair of eyes, a stretch of neck, a small patch of smooth, delicate skin visible at the collar, and a pair of long, jade-like hands resting on the steering wheel—this made him acutely aware that Chu Heng had grown up.

And he had grown old.

He should have felt ashamed because of this fact, but his heart at this moment was as still as stagnant water, without a ripple.

Chen Jinsheng silently watched Chu Heng’s reflection in the car window. After a moment, he turned his head slightly to look ahead. In his upper field of vision, the lowered sun visor occupied a large area.

“Do you have an extra mask?” he spoke up, his voice low and hoarse, as if from lack of use.

It took Chu Heng a moment to realize the new sound in the car came from him. Paying attention to the road, he kept one hand on the steering wheel and reached into the storage compartment with the other.

The most commonly stocked item in each of his cars was face masks. He didn’t need to fumble much to easily find one.

The car was on the elevated highway. Chu Heng didn’t dare to look away, so he handed the mask over with one hand.

Almost the moment he extended his hand, his grip loosened as the mask was immediately taken.

The sound of the plastic packaging being torn open was unusually distinct in the quiet space.

It was rush hour. The elevated highway was bustling with traffic, and the speed inevitably slowed down. Chu Heng gripped the steering wheel again, taking advantage of a distracted driver in the next lane to change lanes.

The mask felt stifling. In less than a minute, even the sound of breathing became inaudible in the car, leaving only the whoosh from the air conditioning vents.

Chu Heng felt a bit suffocated.

This new box of masks wasn’t breathable at all.

Won’t buy this brand next time.

He tugged at his mask and rolled down his own window.

The blare of car horns and the roar of engines instantly flooded into the car, dispelling the previous silence. Simultaneously, the late summer wind rushed in, tousling the bangs on his forehead into a mess. His field of vision also became patchy with dark and bright spots.

Chu Heng: “...”

A "fuck" nearly escaped his lips, but mindful of the presence of others, he swallowed it back.

Chu Heng frustratedly rolled the window back up, swept his hair aside, and his vision finally cleared.

The car passed through the city center, the surrounding hustle and bustle fading away, replaced by tranquility and elegance.

This was a well-known villa district in W City, with fresh air and a gentle landscape. Each villa came with its own private courtyard, and the security and property services were famously excellent. It went without saying that those who lived here were either wealthy or influential.

Hechi Villa and the South Suburb Prison were on opposite ends of the city, quite a distance apart, but a solid hour and a half's drive at most.

Unfamiliar with the road layout, Chu Heng turned on the navigation. His phone was mounted on the central air vent, clearly displaying the distance between the two places—less than the length of a movie.

"You have arrived near your destination. Navigation has ended."

A gentle female voice sounded. Chu Heng couldn't help but glance at the person beside him.

That person was dutifully wearing a mask, his deep eyes and brows hidden in the shadow cast by the sun visor. His hair was shaved clean, a short layer clinging to his scalp, making his forehead appear even fuller.

Chu Heng drove to the villa entrance, but the security guard didn't let him through. The guard came out of the booth, walked to the driver's side, bent down, and knocked on the window.

Right, this car wasn't registered here.

Chu Heng rolled down the window and pulled down his mask.

"Mr. Chu?" The security guard seemed surprised.

The service here was impeccable; the property management remembered every homeowner clearly to avoid any mix-ups.

Chu Heng gave an affirmative hum. "Please register this license plate for me."

The guard said "Right," and, after a glance at the passenger seat, walked away.

This place rarely had paparazzi, so Chu Heng simply took off his mask and made a beeline for his house.

The house was a typical Chinese-style courtyard. It was already decorated before he bought it; Chu Heng just moved in without bothering to redecorate.

He parked the car, unbuckled his seatbelt. "We're here."

He said it but made no move to get out. He waited until Chen Jinsheng got out of the car, then sat for a moment longer before pulling out the key and getting out himself.

In that brief moment of delay, Chen Jinsheng had already walked to the center of the front courtyard on his own, tilting his head back slightly to look at the two-story villa before him.

Chu Heng paid him no mind, walked straight to the door, punched in the code, turned the handle, pushed the door open, and then glanced sideways at Chen Jinsheng. Chen Jinsheng, catching the look, walked over.

The two stood in the entryway. Chu Heng found the switch on the wall by the moonlight, clicked three switches in a row, and the whole first floor flooded with light.

He took two pairs of slippers from the shoe rack, put on one pair himself, and walked into the living room.

Chen Jinsheng was momentarily blinded by the sudden light in the entryway, his expression darkening for an instant. Clearly, this sudden, direct, strong light reminded him of unpleasant memories.

He was still wearing his mask. He looked up at the young man walking toward the kitchen with his back to him, his gaze deep and heavy, like a wolf, tiger, or leopard in a deep night rainforest, locking onto its prey and waiting for the right moment to strike.

The young man, unaware, turned his head and asked, "What would you like to drink?"

Chen Jinsheng lowered his eyes, looked at the slippers on the floor, and spoke hoarsely, "Water."

His voice sounded as if he hadn't had water for days and nights. Chu Heng raised an eyebrow, went into the kitchen, only to find there was no kettle. He opened the fridge and asked, "Only ice-cold, is that okay?"

The young man's voice was somewhat muffled through the wall.

Chen Jinsheng closed the front door behind him with his backhand, put on the slippers, and grunted in affirmation.

The slippers fit perfectly, his size.

He took off the mask, folded it neatly, put it in his pocket, then turned off the entryway light and walked to sit on the sofa. His posture was ramrod straight; he only occupied half the width of the sofa, back straight, legs parallel and slightly apart, hands placed properly on his knees, chin slightly tucked, eyes looking diagonally downward.

Like a soldier's posture, also like a prisoner's.

This scene struck Chu Heng, who was coming out carrying two bottles of ice-cold mineral water. He was taken aback, then approached as if nothing was wrong, placed one bottle on the coffee table, walked to the single sofa on the other side, sat down, unscrewed the cap, took a few gulps of water, and used the action of drinking to discreetly observe the other person in the living room.

Chen Jinsheng's drinking manner was also extremely measured. He took a sip, paused, waited until the water in his mouth was completely swallowed, then took the next sip.

He drank three sips, then screwed the cap back on and placed the water bottle back on the coffee table.

For some reason, Chu Heng also couldn't drink anymore. He held the bottle, making conversation: "Too cold? Or tasteless?"

Chen Jinsheng shook his head, his meaning unclear.

Moisture in the air condensed into droplets on the cold bottle, wetting Chu Heng's palm. He switched hands. "Do you want to take a shower first?"

Chen Jinsheng gave an affirmative hum but didn't get up. After a moment, he looked toward Chu Heng.

Chu Heng was slow to react, coughed, stood up, and said, "Your room is on the second floor. Everything's ready."

He walked up the stairs. After nearly half the steps, he still didn't hear footsteps following behind, so he turned back curiously. Even with his vast experience, this look still gave him a bit of a fright.

Chen Jinsheng was right behind him, a few steps away.

A tall figure of 1.9 meters, yet he trailed behind like a ghost, silently watching him.

A chill ran down Chu Heng's spine. He couldn't help but scold, "Why don't you make any sound when you walk?"

Chen Jinsheng was silent for a moment, then said, "Sorry, force of habit."

The South Suburb Prison had strict controls. Presumably, the inmates held there also had to tread carefully in their daily lives, their days not easy. Chu Heng had inquired a few days ago but hadn't paid it much mind; now he remembered.

He closed his mouth, feeling he was making a mountain out of a molehill, and continued upward.

The second floor had one master bedroom, three secondary bedrooms, a study, a walk-in closet, and a shared bathroom. Chu Heng opened the master bedroom door and said to the person behind him, "Clothes are in the wardrobe. Other things are prepared too. See if anything's missing."

He hesitated, wondering if he should go in and explain how to use the water heater to Chen Jinsheng, then felt it unnecessary. Chen Jinsheng had been inside for seven years, not turned into a life idiot. He didn't need to explain every little detail like a worried mother hen.

So he just stepped aside, indicating for Chen Jinsheng to go in himself.

"The key's in the lock."

Chen Jinsheng's gaze lowered, seeing the brand-new silver key inserted in the door lock. There were two in total, the other one dangling from a connected ring.

He said nothing, stepped into the room.

The master bedroom connected to a balcony. At the moment, the floor-to-ceiling curtains weren't drawn. Moonlight poured in through the gleaming glass door, illuminating large swathes of spotless wooden flooring.

*Click.*

The light switch by the door was pressed. The cold, mechanical light instantly diluted the soft moonlight. Chen Jinsheng turned back, only to see the door that had just been closed.

He stood quietly for a moment, then turned to survey the room. The room was spacious and clean. The two-meter-wide bed was covered with plain bedding that looked soft.

Chen Jinsheng walked over, ran a hand over the perfectly smooth bedspread, then went to the wardrobe and pulled it open.

Inside were: three sets of summer clothes, three sets of autumn clothes, two sets of pajamas, two coats, and three brand-new pairs of shoes placed at the bottom.

With summer turning to autumn, these clothes were just right, and they appeared to be the right size.

Chen Jinsheng gazed at the neatly hung clothes for a moment, then bent slightly to open the drawers inside one by one. Sure enough, he found an unopened box of underwear and socks.

These preparations were quite considerate for someone just released from prison, but Chen Jinsheng’s expression remained completely unchanged, as if he felt nothing at all.

He simply took a change of underwear and a set of pajamas and went straight to the bathroom.

He took off his clothes, revealing a solid, powerful frame. Seven years of continuous labor had given this body a rather pleasing outline, with well-proportioned muscles—neither too thin nor exaggerated. However, the various large and small scars scattered across it marred this otherwise impressive form, carving his body into a patchwork of fierce, terrifying sections.

Chen Jinsheng didn’t look in the mirror; he was well past caring about his own reflection.

He walked under the showerhead, studied it for a moment before a blast of cold water hit him. It gradually turned warm. The water temperature suddenly became a bit too high, scalding Chen Jinsheng’s skin red. He had to step out of the shower’s range and adjust the faucet again.

As the water turned lukewarm, Chen Jinsheng glanced sideways and caught sight of a few green leaves on the corner shelf.

They were pomelo leaves.

Bathing with pomelo leaves was also a custom.

A ritual to pray for blessings, ward off disaster, and turn misfortune into fortune.

Author’s Note:

New story is here!