The cigarette clamped between Professor Wu’s fingers trembled continuously. He did not answer Fang Yongnian’s question, nor did he speak again.

“I only just realized,” Fang Yongnian spoke slowly, his voice low, “why you called Lu Boyuan that day and told him to get off the car.”

“I only just remembered that time, we were actually going to attend a symposium.”

It was the annual international symposium. They had thought the Kang Mo Project had achieved a major breakthrough and had prepared a presentation for it. The main speaker was supposed to be Lu Boyuan.

Before they got in the car, Professor Wu had called Lu Boyuan and told him to hurry back to the institute. And so, the one who became the main speaker of that presentation was Fang Yongnian.

Fang Yongnian didn’t even know how he could still laugh.

“What we thought was a major breakthrough was actually the result of falsified data. The presentation we went to give at the symposium would, sooner or later, be exposed for having data problems. The main speaker of that presentation would inevitably have a stain left on his career.”

“The two of us were your direct disciples. Before we attended the symposium, you stopped the loss in time and chose to sacrifice me, to keep Lu Boyuan.”

“It wasn’t to sacrifice you.” Professor Wu suddenly looked ten years older. “In terms of talent, you far surpass Boyuan. A stain like that might be impossible for Boyuan to recover from, but for you, you could always start over again.”

Fang Yongnian actually laughed aloud this time. “So you really did think about what’s best for us.”

“Yongnian…” The long-silent Lu Boyuan finally couldn’t hold back and spoke up.

That was their mentor, after all, even if his crimes were already beyond forgiveness.

“Whether you believe it or not, I’ve been making amends these past four years.” Professor Wu stubbed out the cigarette in his hand. “The settlement for the families of the children who died in that car accident, Boyuan’s promotions over the years, and you—do you think it’s easy for a newly founded small company to apply to produce a generic drug?”

If he hadn’t been helping and smoothing things out behind the scenes, Fang Yongnian’s path would have been many times harder than it was now.

“I know I’m selfish. But Wu Tao is my only son. The crime he committed was too great, our family couldn’t possibly bear it. And he promised me this really would be the last time.”

Even Lu Boyuan couldn’t help but frown at that.

“Then why give me the recording and the list? Why have Lu Boyuan invite me back into the project?” Fang Yongnian chose to cut him off directly.

Why?

He was the one who lost a leg, he was the victim—so why was it that every single one of them, when facing him, only ever talked about their own difficulties?

What did their difficulties have to do with him? Why should he, because of their difficulties, lose a leg?

“I know you’ve been investigating what happened that year.” Professor Wu looked at Fang Yongnian. “You’re my most outstanding student. I know how smart you are, and I also know that with the Yu family’s resources, finding out the truth was only a matter of time.”

“The Kang Mo Project’s restart this time has been strictly regulated from the very beginning. All the data has been precisely reviewed, some of it I personally oversaw. This is a good opportunity. I hope you can rejoin the project and continue the career that was interrupted by that accident four years ago.”

“So I gave you all the evidence I had. I wanted you to uncover the data falsification from that year. I wanted you, after uncovering everything, to step out from the shadows.”

The seventy-year-old man had spoken too much all at once, and his chest began to heave slightly.

Lu Boyuan couldn’t help but pour him another cup of warm water.

After all, this was his teacher. It was truly hard for him to reconcile the man before him with those unimaginable, inhumane acts.

Every time Professor Wu showed weakness, it made his heart ache.

“You say you want me to step out from the shadows, yet all you’ve given me are a recording and a list?” Fang Yongnian, however, was completely unmoved. “You actually just want me to stop here, don’t you?”

The evidence he had given could only allow him to uncover the project’s data falsification.

If Wu Tao had not appeared, this case might have dragged on for quite some time.

Who would win and who would lose was still uncertain.

“Yongnian…” Professor Wu’s voice was almost pleading. “He is my only son.”

“Your son killed four people,” Fang Yongnian closed his eyes briefly, “perhaps even more.”

Right in front of Professor Wu, he lifted the hem of his right pant leg.

It was the first time Lu Boyuan saw Fang Yongnian’s prosthetic limb. Its metallic framework clamped below the knee, with flesh-colored soft material imitating the shape of a calf.

“Professor Wu.” Fang Yongnian, too, spoke with a tone close to pleading as he looked at the man who had once been his mentor. “I also only have one right leg.”

And those who had died, each of them had only one life.

Lu Boyuan closed his eyes.

A sight of devastation. A heart full of absurdity.

Professor Wu finally chose silence.

They were all people of high intellect, exceptionally intelligent. Some things didn’t need to be said out loud.

By leaking that evidence to Fang Yongnian and introducing him to a project he would surely be interested in, Professor Wu’s goal had been to make Fang Yongnian stop.

He hadn’t expected that, when faced with crisis, his son would make the exact same choice as four years ago—once again causing a car accident in an attempt to kill Fang Yongnian. When the experts involved were arrested, his first reaction had been to seize Lu Yixin and use her to threaten Lu Boyuan.

His son had never once thought about repentance.

Just as Professor Wu himself had never believed that his son deserved punishment.

It wasn’t until father and son were both driven to the very end of their road that they finally remembered what it meant to repent.

But by then, people were already dead, and hearts had already turned cold.

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

When Professor Wu left, Lu Boyuan did not see him off.

No one asked where he was going, dressed in a suit and polished leather shoes. He didn’t explain either.

Two hours later, Professor Wu’s car met with an accident on the highway to Huating City. He died on the spot.

Three hours later, Professor Wu’s assistant handed all evidence of Wu Tao’s crimes over to the police. Wu Tao resisted arrest, and during a highway chase, he once again got into a car accident.

As if haunted by vengeful spirits claiming their debt.

Only, Wu Tao didn’t die. The crash caused a ruptured spleen and multiple internal injuries, but he survived—survived to face every punishment, survived to live the life he was meant to live.

Lu Boyuan and Fang Yongnian didn’t find out until after everything had happened—when Professor Wu’s assistant came to see them—that Professor Wu had intended to turn himself in that day.

“He wanted to take responsibility for everything, so that Wu Tao could at most be charged as an accessory.” The assistant pushed up the bridge of his glasses. “But who would have thought Wu Tao…”

He had believed his father was going to report him…

“Before Professor Wu left, he told me that if anything happened to him, I should hand the folder labeled with Wu Tao’s name to the police, and then give this one to you.”

He took out a thick yellow document envelope.

All preparatory work for the Kang Mo Project before its establishment had gone through proper procedures, with no data falsification.

“There is one more matter,” the assistant hesitated slightly, “it’s about Wang Dagang.”

“Wu Tao had Wang Dagang cause the car accident back then because Wang Dagang had a daughter with uremia who needed long-term dialysis. She was waiting in line for a kidney donor, and it required a lot of money.”

“Wu Tao promised to cover all of Wang Dagang’s daughter’s medical expenses in full, so Wang Dagang agreed to do such a thing.”

“The tragic part is that on the day the accident happened, Wang Dagang’s daughter suddenly had a relapse and didn’t make it—she passed away too.”

“Wang Dagang’s wife at that time didn’t know he even had another daughter. The woman he was keeping outside, because her daughter and Wang Dagang both died, lost all hope. She took the five hundred thousand yuan Wu Tao gave her and left for somewhere far away.”

“Now that this matter has come to light, Wang Dagang’s ex-wife is demanding that the other woman hand over the money. They might even take it to court.”

“I’m afraid that when reporters start digging, they’ll bring up the old car accident, and someone might try to contact Fang Yongnian—so I came to tell you in advance.”

Data falsification in a pharmaceutical project was, after all, not something honorable.

For both Fang Yongnian and Lu Boyuan, it would be best if their careers could remain without any further stains after this.

The assistant pushed up the frame of his glasses again.

No one responded, and no one reached for the file folder labeled with Fang Yongnian and Lu Boyuan’s names.

The assistant placed the folder on the table in the outer room of the ward, and when he left, he quietly closed the door behind him.

At the doorway stood a young girl. Her features resembled Lu Boyuan’s somewhat—lively and full of vitality, her eyes bright and clear.

“Are they doing okay?” she asked, face full of concern.

Her voice was pleasant, crisp and clear.

“Not too well,” the assistant said with a bitter smile.

Entanglements, coincidences, mistakes—in this entire mess, no one had truly won.

It was a kind of trial where even the fulfillment of vengeance brought no joy.

The little girl frowned, looking far more mature than her age.

“You’d better wait a bit before going in,” the assistant sighed. The atmosphere inside was so heavy it was hard to breathe.

“But I’m hungry.” The girl pouted, brows knitted together.

The assistant: “…”

He could only watch helplessly as the little girl, like performing magic, fetched a pile of pots and containers from the ward next door and, without a hint of restraint, divided half of them to him.

“Uncle, help me carry this—it’s too heavy. Almost done,” she said with confidence.

Each lunchbox was filled with dishes that looked well made, and at last she brought out a large pot of white rice.

When she entered the room, she did so by kicking the door open.

She didn’t even glance at the adults inside, who were smoking and silent, and immediately shouted, “Open the window! This is a hospital ward, do you people have no sense of decency?”

Chattering like a little sparrow, nonstop.

“Yu Hanfeng… Auntie said today’s the last night. Just hang in there a bit longer, you can go home and sleep tomorrow.”

She spoke in a coaxing tone, like comforting a child.

“I even had Auntie buy wine for me.” She proudly dragged a huge white plastic bag over, stuck out her tongue at Lu Boyuan, and said, “My mom said you guys can drink today.”

So she bought it herself, just so her dad couldn’t use that as an excuse to scold her.

The middle-aged assistant watched as the girl burst energetically into that room where the curtains had been drawn and silence had hung heavy. Dressed in her dark blue school tracksuit, she chirped away, ordering them to set the table and lay out the bowls and chopsticks.

Food in this world always carried its own special fragrance.

Even when the sky seemed to be collapsing, that fragrance could still make one’s mouth water, could still make one feel the warmth of food.

She served a bowl of rice to each person and placed a bowl of tofu with chopped scallions in front of her father.

“Mom said you’ve gotten fat.” She grinned proudly.

“…No manners at all.” Lu Boyuan tapped her on the head with his chopsticks.

After a full day of silence, they finally spoke again.

The curtains were drawn open, the window pushed wide, and the warm southern breeze of early summer drifted in with the fresh air.

The girl, holding a chicken wing between her teeth, squinted her eyes and fought with Zheng Fei over the meat on the fish’s belly.

The assistant pushed his glasses up once more.

It would all, eventually, pass—all those sorrows, absurdities, and wounds tied to desire.