The next day, He Juan was discharged from the clinic under Doctor Jia’s vexed glower. He Juan pretended not to notice, of course. If Jia Molei had an infamous reputation as a foul-mouthed doctor, then He Juan must be the disobedient patient who was always discharged overnight.

Jia Molei could not stop him the first time it happened, and he would not be able to do it this time either.

(He pretended not to see the dark hickeys peeking out from the doctor’s collar, not interested in the kind of thing he was doing behind closed doors with the Manipulator.)

He Juan had no idea how long he had been standing in front of Ma Ping’s observation room, staring at the monitor that dutifully recorded the pulse and throb of his heart, until he sensed another presence approaching him from behind. "You said that the chance he would live until today is less than 20%," he suddenly said without looking back.

Jia Molei grunted. He took a few steps forward and came to a stop beside He Juan, his gaze falling onto the comatose man. "That’s right. If he has any family members or relatives, it’s better to contact them now."

"No." He Juan clenched his fists, voice slightly raspy. "He doesn’t have anyone in his family at all."

Jia Molei nodded, not surprised. This was already a common occurrence for people in the underworld – either they had lost their family early on or they had cut off contact with them for a lifetime. The underworld was often associated with gangsters, bandits, loan sharks and other negative connotations. Or simply put, it was the world where ordinary citizens wanted to steer away from. There was no way someone with family would involve themselves in this mess.

Oh wait, he suddenly recalled that the living exception to this case was standing right beside him...

"What are you planning to do?" Jia Molei found himself asking, unable to help but worry about his patient’s condition.

He Juan’s state was far from optimal. It had not even been 48 hours since he was thrown by the bomb from the second floor, for God’s sake! Unless they were desperate or foolish, no one would attempt to defy their doctor’s words and get out of the bed!

Unfortunately, the man beside him was included in both the categories...

Clad in a three-piece dark gray suit with the jacket draped over his shoulders, He Juan looked no different than usual aside from the burn marks on the side of his neck, the splint on his right arm and his slightly pale complexion.

’How the fuck is he so good at faking it?’ Jia Molei thought, clicking his tongue. ’Don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt. I won’t fucking believe it even if someone beats me to death.’

"What I want is very simple..." He Juan chuckled darkly. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. And of course, a life for a life." He reached out and gently placed his palm on the glass as though patting the shoulder of the man lying inside. "I owe you my life, and now... it’s my turn to return the favor. Rest well, Ma Ping. I will catch the person behind this and drain their blood on your and Old Liu’s grave."

After saying that, he turned away decisively and walked down the corridor, slightly limping on his steps.

Jia Molei’s complicated gaze followed him until he disappeared into the corner. Even though He Juan’s back was broad and ramrod straight, somehow he got the impression that the man looked very lonely...

***

Without even bringing a suitcase, He Juan departed to the airport with his newly acquired ticket and passport in hand.

As he walked past the hustle and bustle in the lobby, the phone in his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out to find a new message from Chen Youzhi. [Boss, Ma Ping’s gone.]

He Juan had anticipated this coming, both from seeing Ma Ping in person and hearing Jia Molei’s prior warning. Nonetheless, as soon as he registered the news, he still halted in his tracks, mind turning blank. He was akin to a still image, suspended amidst the boisterous space that was filled to the brim with laughter, chatter and tears.

He was not sad, his simmering fury had already offset whatever grief that lingered in his heart. He was just... he had no idea. Tired? Hollow? Fed up? This world was nothing but filthy and insidious; he had fully prepared himself for it when he decided to go down this path all those years ago. Yet sometimes... he found himself wishing that he could stop, that he could leave everything behind without a care. He wanted to go as far away as possible and found a place where he could seek salvation.

But he could not – must not. He had come this far already and there was no way he was going to quit midway. If he did, there was no telling how many victims would appear in the future.

And for that reason alone, He Juan would continue to walk down this dark, thorny road. Even if he ended up bruised and battered, even if he were to lose his life in the middle... he must not stop.

Did Ma Ping’s death impact him more than usual because he had just discovered the man’s innocent and pure wish? That must be the case.

Sighing, He Juan shook his head and continued walking toward the VIP boarding area.

Five hours later, he touched down in Myanmar, feeling simultaneously nauseous, exhausted and sore all over.

The hot, sweltering weather caused him to sweat nonstop and his fractured arm started to itch like millions of ants were gnawing on it. Ignoring the urge to scratch it, he clumsily took off his suit jacket and undid the two top buttons of his shirt with much difficulty using his non-dominant left hand.

However, instead of finding a place to rest for a while, He Juan instantly hailed a taxi toward his destination.

"Here for a vacation, Sir?" The burmese taxi driver asked in accented English, his gaze roaming over He Juan’s expensive suits, his gleaming watch, the splint on his arm and his ghastly complexion caused by the air sickness.

"Business trip," He Juan simply said. He was too tired to maintain any semblance of decorum. Rummaging through his suit pocket, he took out a small handgun and checked its magazine, causing the driver’s eyes to go wide in shock. He asked as though not noticing the flash of terror in the other man’s eyes, "Can you drive a little faster? I’m in a hurry."

"Y-Yes! No problem, Sir!" At the sight of the gun, the driver straightened up and forewent the idea to scam the tourist out of his money. Not only that, he also floored the accelerator harder and arrived at the destination five minutes earlier than the estimated time.

"Thank you," He Juan said, paid thrice the taxi fee and got down from the car, much to the driver’s befuddlement.

He stood in front of the large and magnificent Buddhist temple, his eyes squinted against the gold and striking pagodas. Around him, a mass of tourists and pilgrims were mingling back and forth, and the distinct scent of incense permeated through the air, covering the area in a thin veil of fog.

He Juan blinked a few times to alleviate the stinging in his eyes. Should have dropped by the pharmacy to buy eye drops first, he thought sadly. Alas, it was getting late and he did not wish to delay any further. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Heaving one last sigh, He Juan braced himself and joined the stream of crowd who was heading toward the entrance.