Four years ago, Yuan Shutong toasted Zuo Yu a glass of wine at the Golden Bird Nightclub in Hong Kong.
He was working undercover, stealing information for the adoptive father who raised him. He said "Brother Yu" with a low eyebrow, and ten years of hatred and fear rolled in his throat.
Zuo Yu didn't let him kneel for too long. "The ground is cold," the man said.
Later Yuan Shutong found out that Zuo Yu knew who he was from the first day.
On the day of the exposure, Zuo Yu said nothing.
"Get lost. Don't appear in front of me again."
Yuan Shutong rolled away. With the stolen information, he also brought with him a body that had been spoiled by love and could never return to its former self.
But I still have to be an undercover agent, and I still have to take on tasks.
During a certain operation, his identity was exposed, his old illness recurred, and he was huddled in a corner shaking in pain.
The chaos was stopped with a sharp shout.
He looked up and saw someone he hadn't seen in three months standing a few steps away, his brows furrowed with emotions he couldn't understand.
——Not impatient. I felt so distressed that I didn't dare to get close.
Yuan Shutong didn't know.
All he knew was that the man told him to get lost. So he shrank into the shadows again, lowered his head, and let tears fall on the back of his hands.
He didn't see Zuo Yu's knuckles clenching and unclenching, unclenching and clenching again.
I didn't hear the sound that was pressed deep in my throat and was almost inaudible——
"... Who made you like this?"
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Read a joke
Intention: Loving is not salvation, being loved is