Chapter 3 A Place to Belong

Chapter 3: Shelter

Shen Qingci flagged down a taxi on the roadside.

"Back to the city," he said quietly as he got into the car.

As the car started moving, he caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror of the Rolls-Royce parked near the southern section.

A tall figure in a black suit stepped out of the car, holding a large bouquet of purple flowers.

The taxi turned a corner, and the person and the cemetery disappeared from view.

Shen Qingci withdrew his gaze and closed his eyes.

He liked irises—because they were clean, because their blooming season was short, and because they bloomed with a sense of finality.

But he had never told anyone this.

Except for that child who, at the age of eight, had knocked over a vase in his study, been made to stand for two hours as punishment, yet secretly remembered what flowers were in that vase.

The tombstone was cold, its chill seeping through his thin shirt into his skin.

Lu Lin leaned against the tombstone, eyes closed, his cheek pressed against the marble engraved with the three characters "Shen Qingci."

The last rays of the setting sun slanted over from the distant mountains, enveloping him in a layer of dark golden light that offered no warmth.

The bouquet of irises in his arms had been carefully placed before the tombstone.

The purple petals appeared especially somber in the twilight, like congealed blood.

"Brother."

Lu Lin spoke, his voice so light it scattered with the wind.

"I signed another contract today," he paused, like a schoolboy reporting his homework. "Thirty billion. The other party tried to screw me over, so I made them pay triple."

The wind rustled through the pines and cypresses.

"Zhou Jin says I'm too ruthless," Lu Lin tugged at the corner of his mouth, but the hint of a smile vanished before it fully formed. "But if I weren't ruthless, they'd have eaten me alive long ago. You taught me that being merciful to enemies is being cruel to oneself."

He opened his eyes, gazing at the layered outlines of the distant mountains.

"But I'm really tired."

As these words left his mouth, it was as if a floodgate had opened.

Twenty-six-year-old Lu Lin, the head of the Lu Group, the formidable Mr. Lu who strikes fear in the business world.

Now, he curled up beside the tombstone, his back slightly hunched, like a lost child.

"I can't sleep every night. The moment I close my eyes, I see the scene of your accident. That day, the call just wouldn't go through, and then someone told me something had happened to you."

Lu Lin's voice trembled as he continued talking to himself. "I didn't believe it. I ran to the hospital and waited outside the emergency room until dawn, only to receive your death notice."

He raised a hand to cover his face, suppressed gasps escaping between his fingers.

"Ten years, brother," he murmured. "Three thousand six hundred and fifty days. I've counted. Each day is harder than the last."

From afar came the rustling sound of the cemetery keeper sweeping, gradually fading away.

Lu Lin lowered his hand, his eyes rimmed red, but there were no tears.

It seemed his tears had already dried up.

"You left me here alone," he said softly, his tone devoid of resentment, only filled with boundless weariness. "The work you left unfinished, I finished it. The schools you wanted to build, I built them... You wanted to expand the market, to spread the business across the globe. And now, that's done too."

"And then?"

He turned his head, looking at the cold tombstone.

"Who am I doing all this for?" Lu Lin asked, his voice hoarse. "You're not even here anymore."

The sky darkened completely, and the first star lit up on the horizon.

Lu Lin remained leaning against the tombstone, unmoving.

In the distance, car lights swept across the mountain road, disappearing quickly.

The cemetery fell into silence, broken only by the mournful wail of the autumn wind between the tombstones.

"Brother," he called out again, this time his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

"When will you... take me with you?"

---

By the time Shen Qingci got out of the taxi in the city, the sky was pitch black.

Streetlights lit up one after another, neon signs flickered, the city had grown even more prosperous.

Leaning on his cane, he walked slowly along the street, a familiar ache throbbing in his right leg.

At a street corner, there was a hotel with a sign reading "Smart Check-in" and "Facial Recognition."

Shen Qingci walked in. Several self-service kiosks glowed with blue light.

He approached one of them. The screen prompted, "Please scan your ID card or proceed with facial recognition."

Shen Qingci stood silently for a moment, then walked toward the front desk.

A young girl was on duty there, looking down at her phone.

"Hello, I need a room," Shen Qingci said.

The girl looked up, did a slight double-take at his appearance, then put on a professional smile. "Hello, sir. May I see your ID, please?"

"ID card..." Shen Qingci paused. "I don't have it with me."

"You can use an electronic ID or facial recognition," the girl pointed to the nearby device. "We're directly connected to the public security system. It's quick."

Shen Qingci looked at the device but didn't move.

In the system, he had been dead for a decade. There was no identity information for Shen Qingci.

If he walked over and scanned his face, what would the system say? Identity mismatch? No record found? Or would it directly alert the police?

Under the girl's puzzled gaze, Shen Qingci turned and walked out of the hotel.

The cool autumn night air brushed against his face.

He stood on the street corner, watching the steady stream of traffic, and it all felt suddenly absurd.

He had lived for twenty-seven years, been at the helm of a company worth hundreds of billions, and handled countless business disputes. Yet now, all because of a piece of ID, he couldn’t even find a place to sleep.

It turned out the dead truly have no place in this world.

He had originally planned to return without disturbing anyone.

But now, that seemed impossible.

Shen Qingci pulled his phone from his coat pocket, his finger hovering over the screen for a long time.

Then he dialed a number.

A number he knew by heart.

The phone rang five times before it was answered.

"Hello, who is this?" The voice on the other end sounded much more mature, yet its tone remained no-nonsense.

Shen Qingci was silent for three seconds.

"Shen Qingci," he said.

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, followed by rustling sounds.

"...What?" Lin Wei’s voice was thick with disbelief. "Who did you say you are?"

"Shen Qingci," he repeated calmly.

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the line.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Lin Wei’s voice suddenly rose, tinged with anger. "Is this some kind of joke?! I’m warning you, if you call again, I’ll call the police!"

*Click.*

The call was disconnected.

A steady dial tone buzzed in his ear.

Shen Qingci held the phone, clenching his jaw.

The streetlight cast its glow on his face, outlining his tense jawline.

He had anticipated this outcome, so it didn't bother him much.

Just as he was about to slide it back into his pocket, the screen lit up again.

It was the same number.

Shen Qingci picked up but said nothing.

"...Are you really Mr. Shen?" Lin Wei’s voice was now low, trembling noticeably.

"Yes."

"Then... tell me something only you and I know." Her breathing was rapid. "Right now, immediately."

Shen Qingci looked at the flickering billboard across the street, thought for a moment, and spoke: "In your third year at the company, the Kexun deal fell through and you hid in the stairwell crying. I found you and said one thing to you."

He paused, then repeated the exact words from back then: "Tears won’t solve the problem, but if you need it, I can give you five minutes."