Chapter 60 You Are Sick

Chapter 60: You're Sick

"......Why are you here?" Jiang Huaiyan asked blankly. "Wasn't Governor Lin supposed to pick me up?"

"He had something come up, so I went to the military hospital to visit the wounded on his behalf."

Zhu Shinian answered as he walked over to stand beside him, and they walked shoulder to shoulder.

They both looked really good, drawing glances from many passersby.

"There are so many people at the station today," Jiang Huaiyan said with a smile, quickly returning to his usual demeanor. "Thanks for picking me up, Major General Zhu."

"No problem," Zhu Shinian replied quickly.

He glanced at Jiang Huaiyan, like he wanted to say something but held back.

"Is something wrong?" Jiang Huaiyan asked. "You seem like you wanna ask me something."

Zhu Shinian withdrew his gaze, his eyelids drooping, and shook his head.

"Let's get to the car first. The wind is too strong here."

He was acting kinda strange. Jiang Huaiyan had a pretty good idea what was up, and silently followed him into the car.

"The gala originally had Wenyan scheduled to give a speech, but the organizer said his speech was too long and rambly, so he went back to trim it. I had nothing to do, so I went to the hospital for him."

Zhu Shinian started the car and went into more detail about why Governor Lin had to cancel.

"I went to the hospital for him. Wenyan sent me your train information. I had a little time left after the visit, so I helped go through the list of patients with premature gland failure who were to get care packages."

The light turned red. Zhu Shinian lightly pressed the brake, and the car slowly decelerated, stopping behind the one ahead.

He glanced at Jiang Huaiyan. Jiang Huaiyan unusually avoided his gaze and, kind of rudely, looked out the window.

"I saw Mr. Jiang's name on the list."

Zhu Shinian followed his gaze. The sky had already darkened; streetlights had lit up early, refracting through the car window and casting a dim light on Jiang Huaiyan's face.

"You're sick," Zhu Shinian said softly. "I didn't even know."

He had no idea.

He'd argued with Jiang Huaiyan because he didn't back his surprise attack plan, calling him selfish and telling him he should think about what if he himself got sick.

On the list of patients with premature gland failure, Jiang Huaiyan was listed as mid-stage.

When he said those words to Jiang Huaiyan, Jiang Huaiyan must have already known he was sick.

Half past six. It was the evening rush hour in the city that served as the capital of the resistance zone.

They got caught in the traffic heading back to the city from the suburban station. Even though it was the holidays, the roads were still jam-packed.

The light turned green, but the traffic only moved slowly, making time feel drawn out.

"......Are you sad?" Jiang Huaiyan asked.

"You're weird for being sad about something like this," he heard Jiang Huaiyan say.

"If I were you, I'd only be happy, thinking it's Ning Ye's karma."

Zhu Shinian was stunned. He shook his head vigorously, wanting to argue, but couldn't find the words.

"I don't hate you. I just... don't want to see you. I never wanted you to get sick. You carry his blood in you. I want you to be safe and healthy..."

Zhu Shinian couldn't go on. He looked away, staring at the road ahead.

Jiang Huaiyan looked at him. In the dim streetlight, his eyes were dark and unreadable.

"Red blood cells only live about 120 days, which means in around four months, you've got a whole new set."

"White blood cells die even faster—they get replaced in hours or days."

"Your blood renews pretty quickly. I no longer carry his blood in me. You don't need to feel sad."

"It's just that the people who deserved payback have finally gotten it."

The sky had darkened completely. The evening glow had vanished. It was a night without stars or moon.

Zhu Shinian wanted to say "No, that's not it," but he didn't think he had the right to forgive for his dead brother.

Zhu Cheng wasn't the most forgiving person. Once he got angry, he had a hard time letting things go.

The few times they'd argued, Zhu Shinian had to reconcile with his brother before going to sleep at night; otherwise, the next day, he'd be even angrier.

When Zhu Shinian was seven, he made plans with friends to play in the creek. Zhu Cheng wouldn't let him go, saying he'd tell their mother. Zhu Shinian couldn't go, and on top of that, he was scolded in front of his friends. He got angry and yelled that his brother was a tattletale.

His brother got angry. On the way home, Zhu Shinian kept apologizing, but it wasn't until when he was brushing his teeth that evening that his brother, as usual, filled his cup with warm water and squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

"......Looks like you took the wrong turn," Jiang Huaiyan said, glancing down at the navigation. "We should have turned left back there."

Away from the city center and the Resistance Headquarters, the roads got a lot emptier. Zhu Shinian looked ahead and gently shook his head.

"You said in an interview once that you don't like big crowds—they're too loud."

"The gala's gonna run late, and many people will come to greet you," Zhu Shinian said. "It might be tiring."

Jiang Huaiyan was surprised, realizing they were heading toward his own place.

The air conditioner hummed persistently, blowing hot air, making the car feel even more quiet and cozy.

"On New Year's, you're gonna leave me, all alone, to eat yesterday's leftovers at home?" Jiang Huaiyan thought to himself.

He didn't really think going to the gala would be that tiring, but since that's what Zhu Shinian said, he didn't feel like arguing with him.

To him, going to a party wasn't exhausting, and being alone on New Year's wasn't lonely either.

It was fine. Whatever Zhu Shinian wanted.

Zhu Shinian drove him home. Just as he invited Zhu Shinian to come in for a bit, the food delivery from the restaurant arrived.

Zhu Shinian opened the food containers—there were two portions. Jiang Huaiyan was surprised—he didn't expect him to stay and keep him company.

The TV was playing the gala, just for background noise to make the place feel less empty.

They ate in silence, barely talking.

Jiang Huaiyan knew Zhu Shinian—he didn't really want to spend New Year's with him, not deep down, nor did he want to sit through an awkward meal here.

He had his close friends at headquarters and his family at home.

He had plenty of places to go, clearly hated himself, yet out of some weird knight-errant complex, he chose to stay and keep him company.

Those dishes were tasteless to Jiang Huaiyan; to accommodate the patient, Zhu Shinian had ordered very bland food that didn't suit his own taste.

Around seven o'clock, fireworks started going off outside the window. From Jiang Huaiyan's apartment, they could clearly see how they ascended and exploded.

Even with the windows closed, the noise of the fireworks was giving him a bit of a headache.

Zhu Shinian seemed to really enjoy watching fireworks, glancing out the window three or four times. Jiang Huaiyan had no idea he'd be into that kind of stuff.

Suddenly, the fireworks didn't seem so noisy to him anymore.

But the fireworks in District 29 weren't particularly impressive—just basic, simple ones that shot up, burst for a split second and then were gone.

The fireworks in District One were much more beautiful. Some spun into the air like jellyfish, raining down colorful light; others burst into all kinds of dazzling patterns and characters.

"Want to set off some fireworks?" Jiang Huaiyan asked him. "There's a place selling them at the neighborhood gate. I'll take you to buy some."

"I'm fine just watching," Zhu Shinian said, not denying that he liked fireworks. "When others set them off, we can all watch."

Jiang Huaiyan kept looking at him. Zhu Shinian felt a bit uncomfortable being stared at like that and turned his head to look out the window.

But the fireworks only went on for a bit and then ended.

District 29 had only recently started getting a little better off; people didn't have much money to spend on things like fireworks. If they had extra money, they'd probably prefer to buy a few more crabs or some fruit.

Firecrackers and fireworks were more of a good omen—something to set off for a fun, rowdy bit, and then it was over.

Seeing that the dishes on the table were mostly eaten, Zhu Shinian went to cook a few dumplings that the restaurant had delivered. He also took out two small saucers, poured some vinegar, and pushed one toward Jiang Huaiyan.

Eating dumplings is a tradition to say goodbye to the old year.

The past was past; they hoped for good luck and a better life in the new year. That was the simple wish behind the start of this tradition.

Jiang Huaiyan took his chopsticks and picked up a dumpling.

As he bit into it, his teeth bit down on something hard.

He froze, then spat out the thing.

It was a gold coin, clean and shiny, glinting under the light.

He looked up and caught Zhu Shinian's eyes.

Zhu Shinian was such a kid... Did he really believe that finding a coin in a dumpling would bring good luck in the new year?

But if such luck was manipulated by him, was it really good luck?

"Thank you... and I wish you good luck in the new year too, Major General Zhu."

"You too, Director Jiang."

On TV, the gala had reached a song and dance performance. The female singer's voice was gentle and clear, harmonized by the innocent voices of children.

"The road stretches far, over mountains and more mountains ahead."

"The road ahead is endless, people trudging through the wind and snow look up and see smoke rising from homes."

In the first year since the Resistance officially went to war with the Empire, the cultural troupe wasn't fully established. There weren't many acts to put on stage, and between each pair of performances, the camera just held on for a while on the soldiers and government staff sharing roasted whole lamb and other food.

Lin Wenyuan's speech was brief, lasting only about two or three minutes. He spoke of his concern for the soldiers at the front and his hope that the Resistance Zone would continue to improve, and so on.

When the New Year's bell rang on TV, Jiang Huaiyan, who had fallen asleep at some point, opened his eyes.

The lights had been turned off by Zhu Shinian at some point. He was wrapped in a blanket, and the TV volume was lowered.

Outside the window, a golden firework rose into the sky, illuminating Zhu Shinian's face as he turned to look at him.

Zhu Shinian's eyes were bright, as if a firework had leaped into them.

The first time Jiang Huaiyan saw him, he thought Zhu Shinian's eyes were beautiful.

The surroundings were dark, but the continuous fireworks lit up Zhu Shinian's face. The vivid and exaggerated light and shadow made him look beautiful like an oil painting.

"Happy New Year," Zhu Shinian said first.

"Happy New Year," Jiang Huaiyan answered without thinking.

It felt a bit like a dream.

The crackling of firecrackers outside the window jarred Jiang Huaiyan more awake.

He saw a notebook full of scribbles and a laptop lying open on the coffee table, realizing Zhu Shinian had just been busy with work.

"Anything urgent come up?" Jiang Huaiyan asked.

Seeing that Jiang Huaiyan was awake, Zhu Shinian packed up his laptop and notebook. "Yeah, some urgent work came up."

"Nie Hang just called. He has a few intelligence reports that need my help decoding. If I head over to work on them, I should be able to work more efficiently. It's already midnight. Get some rest early."

"That urgent?" Jiang Huaiyan was taken aback. "But intelligence reports... the sooner they're decoded, the better."

Zhu Shinian nodded, picked up his laptop and notebook, and stood up.

Jiang Huaiyan saw him to the door. Even though it was late, it was still lively outside, and the sounds of children's laughter faintly drifted from the neighbor's place.

Zhu Shinian wasn't used to being watched as he left. He glanced back at Jiang Huaiyan, intending to tell him not to see him off.

"Get some rest."

"Alright." Jiang Huaiyan understood his intention and immediately stepped back inside.

Zhu Shinian only walked downstairs after seeing the door close. He felt oddly sad.

It's hard not to be sad when someone you care about is sick, he thought.

It felt like no one could do anything about it.

He couldn't force the Empire to hand over the specific medicine, and he wasn't a scientist who could immediately find a way to treat premature gland failure.

Just like when his mom died, when his father and Uncle Song died.

The streets were empty and still. It was already midnight, and almost everyone was spending time with their families. No one would be out at this hour.

Jiang Huaiyan actually had family too. His omega father was killed by Zhu Shinian, yet he held no grudge. Instead, he let him go and even gave up everything in District One to come with Zhu Shinian to the Resistance Zone.

If he hadn't come to the Resistance Zone, the Empire's new medicine definitely could have saved him.

It really did seem like Zhu Shinian had ruined him.

Jiang Huaiyan... wouldn't have had to die in the first place.

.......

By the time he got to the intelligence office, Nie Hang was already waiting for him.

"Major General Zhu, lend me a hand," Nie Hang said, holding a stack of papers, his face grim. "Our guys have been working on it all night and can't crack it."

Zhu Shinian took the stack, flipped through a couple of pages, and frowned slightly.

"This is..."

"Picked up from radio transmissions," Nie Hang said. "We tried a bunch of standard methods, but all we got was gibberish. The tech guys think it might be a new encryption method."

Zhu Shinian didn't respond. He set the papers on the table, sat down, and carefully went through them page by page.

Nie Hang stood there, waiting.

Ten minutes went by. Twenty. Zhu Shinian kept his eyes glued to the dense symbols, occasionally jotting down a few words, then scratching them out.

"Think you can crack it?" Nie Hang asked.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Zhu Shinian replied after a moment's hesitation. "But it's gonna take some time."

Zhu Shinian pointed at a group of symbols on the paper. "Look here—this structure is a classic nesting pattern from the Empire's third-tier high-grade encryption. But this part..." He pointed to another area. "This is a variant of a military-grade low-level encryption. Two completely unrelated encryption methods, mashed together."

Nie Hang was stunned. "So you can actually crack it?"

"Yes." Zhu Shinian picked up a pen and started writing on a blank sheet. "I know the Empire's high-grade encryption, third tier. And I've seen their variant of the military low-grade encryption before. Combining the two, with a few tweaks in between..." His pen flew, lines of numbers and symbols spreading across the paper.

Nie Hang leaned in for a look. The messy gibberish turned into another page of messy gibberish, then into another page of codes where he could gradually see patterns.

Once he was sure Zhu Shinian could crack it, he went to handle other stuff. Three hours later, he came back to bring Zhu Shinian coffee and found that on a fresh sheet, Zhu Shinian had already decoded most of it.

Troop placements, supply allocations, garrison status in a certain area...

Halfway through, Zhu Shinian's hand froze.

He raised his head to look at Nie Hang.

"Here," he said, tapping a spot on the paper with the tip of his pen. "The troop numbers are way lower than we expected."

Nie Hang's eyes brightened. He didn't dare say a word, holding his breath as he watched the paper in Zhu Shinian's hands.

Zhu Shinian kept writing.

After writing the last character, he handed the paper to Nie Hang.

Nie Hang took it, read it from start to finish, and looked up, all his fatigue gone.

"This is a chance."

"Yeah." Zhu Shinian leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "If the intel is accurate, opening a new line there could take pressure off the front. General Tao won't have to tough it out alone."

Nie Hang was already heading for the door. "I'll go find Deputy Governor Lin now. We'll have a meeting tomorrow morning and put it to a vote."

He stopped at the door and turned back.

"Nice work, Zhu Shinian," he said with a grin that had that familiar, easygoing mischief. "I gave you this shot at a big achievement. Don't forget to treat me to dinner."

Zhu Shinian was lost for words for a second. It was clearly Nie Hang who'd asked for his help, and now he was making it out like Zhu Shinian owed him a meal.

What a shameless bastard.

The door closed, and the office fell silent again. Zhu Shinian set an alarm and tried to catch some sleep before the meeting the next morning.

He was used to getting only three or four hours of sleep a day. On the battlefield, he might not even get that.

His constitution hadn't changed after the secondary differentiation, and he could still handle this workload—that was already a blessing in disguise.

The next day, Lin Wenyuan convened a four-person meeting. He wasn't a military man, so when Zhu Shinian and Major General Qian agreed, he voted in favor immediately.

Jiang Huaiyan thought it over, carefully reviewed the plan Zhu Shinian had written, and cast his vote in favor too.

Zhu Shinian contacted Tao Juan, who quickly replied with his approval.

No one argued about who would lead the operation. Zhu Shinian knew that no one else could crack that high-grade encryption, so he didn't dispute Major General Qian for command of the new line.

The Resistance was efficient. Just three days after the meeting, Major General Qian led the troops, fully equipped, with over twenty thousand soldiers transported by rail to the front.

After that day, Zhu Shinian hardly left the intelligence office.

Nie Hang moved a pile of accumulated Empire top-secret communications over, and Zhu Shinian decoded them one by one, tossing each finished one aside. The scrap paper beside him piled up to half his height.

The intelligence staff took turns assisting him—bringing tea, handing him paper and pens—and the looks they gave him increasingly resembled those directed at a monster.

"Major General Zhu, take a break," Xiao Zhou said, bringing over a cup of strong tea and setting it beside him. "You've been going nonstop for two days."

Zhu Shinian didn't look up, his fingers still tracing across the paper. "Just leave it."

Xiao Zhou opened his mouth, but didn't dare insist, and quietly retreated.

The office fell silent again. Zhu Shinian took a sip of the tea, his eyes never leaving the symbols on the table.

Another one.

This encryption was more complex than the previous ones, but the pattern was the same—Empire high-grade encryption as the base, military low-grade encryption as the shell, with a shift layer in between.

He was already familiar with this routine. His fingers moved almost by muscle memory.

Halfway through writing, his hand suddenly stopped.

"Zhu Shinian," the decoded characters read.

"I know it's you decoding this."