Of course, Han Shu's so-called "drifting" is more of a spiritual thing. He is now preparing to be transferred to the Municipal Bureau, and he also has a good father, so his career path is probably not inferior to Lin Jing's. Whenever he makes progress in his career, Han Shu will be happy and proud, and work hard for it. However, he works hard to achieve results, and after achieving results, his career will rise step by step. But what will he do after rising? What will he do with high-ranking positions and generous salaries? He rarely thinks about it.
Is becoming like his father his life's goal? If so, this goal doesn't bring him much joy. The old man is now busy with work and social engagements every day, developing a whole host of luxurious habits; he even gets tired of sitting on the sofa for too long. Han Shu is much more carefree and happy. It's not that Han Shu doesn't want to be an upright prosecutor, eliminating harm for the people and upholding justice, but this pursuit is too lofty, so lofty that it feels distant and unattainable. The joy of finding a small trinket he likes is much more real.
He was now impeccably dressed, looking every bit the social elite, and he did all this because he felt he "should" do it, not because he "wanted" to. No one forced him to do it, but he had no choice, because he had never truly considered what he ultimately wanted in his heart—and there were many, many things Han Shu couldn't understand.
Just like he didn't know why he suddenly caught a bad cold out of nowhere; he didn't know why he suddenly felt that the curtains in his house were incredibly ugly and repulsive after returning from dinner at his parents' house; he didn't know why he went to pick out curtains while running a high fever; he didn't know why he couldn't find any he liked in many fabric stores, but found them at Xie Junian's place; he didn't know why he prayed she wasn't in the store before entering, but when she really wasn't there, he felt empty inside; he didn't know why he felt that the curtains looked wrong no matter how he looked at them when the installer came to install them today, and inexplicably lost his temper; and he was so surprised by the existence of that badminton racket, and didn't want to see it at all, but when Zhu Xiaobei said she was going to take it away, he felt unusually angry.
Finally, he swallowed an extra cold pill. As he lay drowsily in bed, he seemed to find a spark of inspiration for his recent ailments. But the inspiration was fleeting, like a flash of lightning, and before he could grasp anything, he fell into a deep, unfathomable slumber.
“499, 500, 501…519, 520, 521…234, 235, 236…”
Han Shu counted the steps, climbing one by one. He started quickly, taking several steps in one, but after a long time, he gradually slowed down. He began to sweat, pant, and feel exhausted. There were clearly 521 steps, and he was almost there. Why did he have to start all over again? Did these steps really lead to the clouds, and were there truly only 521 steps? Why was he so sure? Even in the past, he hadn't counted each step precisely. The so-called 521 was just a number she mentioned, but was what she said true?
The stairs stretched out before him, seemingly without end. Han Shu was drenched in sweat, feeling worse than if he had played ball for four hours straight in a series of matches. He himself didn't understand why he was climbing, nor did he know what awaited him at the end of the stairs.
He didn't know how much time had passed, perhaps just when he was about to give up, when Han Shu heard arguing ahead. Looking down, he saw that he was only a few steps away from the summit. A girl had her back to him, so he couldn't see her face clearly. It was Xie Junian, Han Shu knew.
"Xie Junian... Junian," Han Shu began with difficulty. But her throat felt like it was blocked with cotton, and she did not turn around.
"Get out of here! Leave now! Do you want to spend your whole life in jail?"
"Ju Nian, don't be silly..."
"Get out!"
"What are you doing? Xie Junian, what... what is he doing here?"
"Let him go, let him go!"
"Don't pull me."
"No, he can't leave."
"quick--"
"Ju Nian, please help me tell her..."
"ah……"
A cacophony of sounds swirled in Han Shu's ears. His head throbbed with pain, and his vision blurred. He couldn't distinguish who was speaking, or whose words were coming from whom. He only heard Xie Junian's final, piercing scream before his feet gave way, and he tumbled down the steep, ascending stairs. Her subsequent cries and screams seemed to come from another world; he couldn't hear anything clearly. Finally, all was quiet. He felt no pain, only paralysis. Dark red blood silently spread, covering the entire sky.
He lay face up in an eerie posture, the last glimmer of light in his vision, he knew, was the pomegranate blossoms that had bloomed exceptionally well that year. Ju Nian had said that perhaps this time it would bear fruit, but he would never see it again.
Ju Nian was struggling and entangled with another person by that tree. He could see her lips moving, he could see the tears on her cheeks, but he couldn't hear a sound. Finally, the person who stopped Ju Nian from rushing at him revealed half a face in the blur. How familiar it was, as familiar as looking in the mirror every morning. Ah, it was Han Shu. The person who had grabbed Ju Nian was Han Shu. He was wearing the white T-shirt that he used to love the most, and his face was filled with disbelief and panic.
If that person was Han Shu, then who was he, and who was lying in a pool of blood? Han Shu lay sprawled on the steps, utterly terrified. Finally, Ju Nian rushed to his side, and in Ju Nian's tearful eyes, he saw his own reflection—a face that wasn't his!
He's lost himself! No, no, no...
Han Shu woke up drenched in sweat. He had fallen asleep too hastily last night, and the curtains weren't even fully drawn, so sunlight was already streaming into the corner of the bed. Han Shu's first action was to pant and run his hands over his face. Thankfully, his features were still there; nothing was added, nothing was missing. Still not believing it, he rushed into the bathroom and finally saw his own face in the mirror. He was still himself.
After washing his face with cold water, Han Shu realized how foolish he had been. How could one person become another, let alone become that person? What was he thinking? Even after waking up, such a dream still sent chills down his spine. He sat back on the edge of the bed and realized that his T-shirt was soaked with sweat.
Prosecutor Tsai called Han Shu, expressing great concern for his condition and even saying that he would make soup to visit him after get off work. Han Shu said he was fine because, although Lin Meimei was already fifty years old, the soup she made was truly terrifying. She would conjure up many chilling combinations out of thin air, based on "scientific" and "nutritional" considerations.
Prosecutor Cai had probably gotten used to Han Shu's protection of his stomach and didn't insist anymore. When Han Shu mentioned that he had sweated a lot last night, Cai said that sweating was a good thing for people with colds. Finally, Cai reminded him to have a formal conversation with the person involved in the newly taken-over corruption case at the Construction Bureau as soon as he felt better.
Illness had severely dampened Han Shu's enthusiasm for work. In a desperate attempt to salvage the situation, he asked one last time, "Is it possible to transfer the case to another prosecutor?" Only after receiving a firm no from Prosecutor Cai did he listlessly agree.
After washing up, the staircase from his dream kept flashing through his mind. Combined with the old man's earlier revelation that the martyrs' cemetery was about to be relocated, Han Shu suddenly felt a strange mix of emotions. This feeling made him forget to take his medicine that morning. He changed his clothes, grabbed his keys, and went out the door.
The city's martyrs' cemetery was originally located in the suburbs. In recent years, the city has developed rapidly and has become a new urban area. It is now surrounded by several large residential communities. Firstly, people feel uneasy living near the cemetery, and secondly, the area is too noisy, which makes it difficult for the martyrs to rest. This is probably the reason why the entire cemetery is to be relocated.
Han Shu parked his car below and started walking up, just like in his dream the night before. However, the steps weren't nearly as endless as in his dream. He was still young, and climbing them didn't take much effort. It was just that the place was much more dilapidated than he remembered. The cracks in the concrete steps were filled with fallen leaves, moss, and unidentifiable shade-loving plants. The pomegranate tree at the top of the steps was still there, its blossoms as vibrant and blood-red as ever, jarringly out of place amidst the lush pines and cypresses. That single red dot in the green was too striking. Han Shu couldn't understand why, all these years, no one had thought to cut it down.
He stood beside the pomegranate tree, looking down at the empty, desolate steps beneath his feet. Although it wasn't far from the city, with crowds not far below, the climb brought a unique sense of peace and coolness, as if the sunlight had hidden in a corner. The wind always seemed to blow faster up there, and for some reason, it carried the distinctive scent of pine branches and fallen leaves. Standing so close, he could hear no fragrance at all from the tree's profusion of blossoms. Like people, when flowers bloom too brightly, they lose their lingering fragrance.
There was no one around. Few people probably come to the martyrs' cemetery to remember the fallen heroes. If there were truly souls here, they would surely be lonely. He walked slowly around the martyrs' monument, his feet crunching on the grass. He remembered that when he was little, almost every year during Qingming Festival, his school would lead him here to commemorate the revolutionary martyrs. Several times, he was the student representative leading his classmates in a passionate oath at the foot of the monument. Back then, they always said, "The red scarves fluttering on our chests are dyed red with the blood of the martyrs." Afterwards, he would always sniff his red scarf again and again, afraid of smelling blood. It wasn't until later, here, that he learned that real blood, once dried, would never be so vibrant; it would just be a brownish stain.
After lingering for a while, Han Shu suddenly felt that his trip here was meaningless. The memories he had left behind were pale, and if there was anything worth remembering, it didn't necessarily have to be seen. Let it be demolished. How many things can last forever? When he won his last high school game with that old Kenneth racket, he swore he would cherish it for a lifetime. But now, if it weren't for Zhu Xiaobei's searching, he probably wouldn't even think about it before the next move.
Thinking of this, Han Shu gave a wry smile and turned back home. He walked around to the other side of the martyrs' monument and found that there was already another person next to the pomegranate tree.
Han Shu hurriedly took a step back, his shoes landing on rolling pebbles. He barely managed to stay on his feet, but thankfully the grass was thick and he made no sound. The person with her back to him was also undisturbed. He had tried every excuse to go looking for her yesterday, but now that she was standing there, Han Shu found himself afraid. Afraid that she would blame him, and also afraid that she wouldn't blame him.
Her waist-length hair was gone, and Han Shu felt a little uneasy, but he still recognized her figure at a glance. He watched her half-squat down, making some kind of gesture with her hand on the pomegranate tree, before finally standing up after a long while, her arm swaying slightly. Han Shu suddenly understood: she was pouring the wine in her cup towards the steps, repeating this three times, as a sacrifice to the souls that lay dormant here.
After all these years, she still can't forget. If, as in her dream, he really was the one who tumbled from the height, would she come here every year?
Han Shu hid behind the stone tablet for a long time, and she sat on the first step by the pomegranate tree for a long time. The sun began to shift its direction quietly, but neither of them moved, as if the world should remain still.
Han Shu was an active person who couldn't stay still, but this time, he didn't feel the passage of time at all. When she finished packing her things and slowly disappeared down the steps, he moved his feet and felt numb as if a million ants were crawling on them. He then frowned, hugged his feet, and cried out "Ouch!"
He didn't have the courage to follow too closely, estimating that she had already gone quite far before cautiously stepping out. Sure enough, the steep, long staircase was once again deserted. He took a step down, then turned back to check the pomegranate tree, wondering what she had been doing, but there was nothing there.
Han Shu tried to squat down at the same angle as her, gazing at the tree. He couldn't guess what images would appear in her mind. In the end, he could only reach out, stroke the rough trunk, and give a self-deprecating bitter laugh.
However, at that very touch, his fingertips felt the same sensation. He leaned closer and saw that on the side of the pomegranate tree trunk, which was about the thickness of his wrist, someone had carved some marks with a knife or other sharp tool. Perhaps these marks were quite deep back then, but over the years, the tree's self-healing ability had made them shallower and shallower, and now only a faint ring remained.
Han Shu struggled to recognize the letter-like strokes, “h…j…n” He didn’t remember such a word until he finally recognized the “&” symbol in the middle.
h……s……&……j……n
hs&jn, hs&jn……
Han Shu kept repeating it to himself, like a magic spell.
Suddenly, he understood. On this pomegranate tree, which had grown for who knows how many years, were carved two names.
Han Shu & Ju Nian?!
Is that really the case? Han Shu was greatly shocked, as if struck by lightning.
It was at this moment that he suddenly remembered that this day was August 14th, exactly 11 years ago.
Chapter Eight: Eleven years have passed, and a lifetime is still ahead...
The first day back at work after a leave of absence is always painful. The sticky notes reminding him of unfinished tasks covered the entire computer monitor. Han Shu vowed in his heart that he would definitely retire at forty and spend his days basking in the sun, while muttering to himself as he tried to find the most important work items from the pile of notes.
Han Shu hadn't been sick enough to require two days of IV drips in a long time, yet he actually slept quite well last night. When he appeared in the office building this morning, many colleagues said he looked quite well. He jokingly cursed those heartless people, "How am I well? Didn't you hear my terrible voice?" Before even returning to his office, he had already acquired at least five folk remedies for coughs.
Clearly, besides handing over the reins to his successor, Han Shu's most important task was to have his first conversation with Wang Guohua—the person involved in the Construction Bureau's embezzlement case. With an hour and a half left before the end of the workday, he finally met the Construction Bureau section chief, suspected of embezzling 3.4 million yuan, in the interrogation room of the compound.
People say that one's appearance reflects one's heart, and Han Shu deeply agrees. He has always trusted his eyes. No matter how much the person sitting across from him tries to remain calm, he can always see through their inner turmoil and unease at a glance. However, today, Wang Guohua, who is sitting across from him, has given Han Shu a headache from beginning to end.
He was a middle-aged man with a kind and honest appearance, plain features, and simple attire. He wore a pair of old-fashioned glasses and looked more like a physics teacher from a rural middle school than a person involved in a massive corruption case within a state organ. That wouldn't have been so surprising; Hitler was a Puritan, after all. What Han Shu found most unbearable was the man's weeping. From the moment he was brought in by the police, his tears hadn't stopped flowing. Han Shu found himself unable to get a word in edgewise amidst his painful sobs. When he tried to identify himself and begin asking questions, Wang Guohua could no longer contain himself and burst into tears, covering his face.
Han Shu convinced himself that it was inevitable for anyone facing the possibility of imprisonment to experience emotional fluctuations, but some people just became particularly out of control. He tried to wait for the man's agitated emotions to subside before getting back to his work. However, a full fifteen minutes passed, and the man's crying not only did not subside but intensified, his face a mixture of snot and tears, a pitiful sight, and he even showed signs of fainting several times.
"Excuse me, it's almost time to leave work. If you don't mind, I'll interrupt you for a moment... Section Chief Wang, I know you're feeling bad. Is it possible to wait until I finish asking you a few questions before you cry?" Han Shu felt he couldn't just sit there waiting any longer; the other person would definitely cry forever. But as soon as he finished speaking, Wang Guohua's sobs grew even louder.
Han Shu glanced at the ceiling, moved his fingers, and beckoned the police officer next to him. He leaned close to the officer's ear and whispered, "Brother, is there any way to make him stop... Or, if you can stop him from crying, I'll treat you to a meal... two meals... three meals. God, save me, or just tell me this isn't true."
The familiar police officer clearly felt helpless, suppressed a smile, patted Han Shu on the shoulder, then walked over to Wang Guohua and scolded him harshly.
Wang Guohua's crying subsided at the officers' warnings, but tears still streamed down his face, and he trembled uncontrollably. Han Shu began to suspect that if the officer shouted a few more times, Wang Guohua might lose control of his bladder out of fear. Thinking of this, he felt himself about to cry. So, he stopped the officer from raising his voice. Clearly, this tactic would only backfire on Wang Guohua; a slightly harsher tone would be enough to silence the grown man. Han Shu simply couldn't believe that such a cowardly middle-aged man had the audacity to embezzle 3.4 million yuan. Wouldn't he have wet himself in fear while committing the crime? Based on his initial assessment, there were only two possibilities: first, there must be something hidden; second, Wang Guohua was an extremely cunning and shrewd old fox, adept at disguise.
Han Shu propped his cheek with his hand, silently pulling out a tissue every now and then and handing it to the man opposite him whose face was wet with tears and scraps of paper. During this process, he even secretly pinched his thigh, which still hurt. But how could he explain the bizarre people and events he had encountered in the past few days?
After finally emptying the last tissue in the half-box, Han Shu's patience had run out. He could no longer heed the old man's usual advice to remain still and observe the situation. Holding the empty tissue box, he coughed and said, "Hey buddy, do you need me to give you a piece of candy to stop your tears? Crying is a normal human emotion, there's nothing wrong with that. But I think a real man should solve the problem first and then get on with his business. I came here today with no results, at most I'll leave empty-handed, but dragging this out won't do you any good."
Wang Guohua lowered his head and sobbed silently. Han Shu was somewhat dejected. He flipped through the files beside him. "If you think you are innocent, you should at least make some gesture. Otherwise, the current evidence is very unfavorable to you. I heard you have a son studying in Canada. He's a high achiever, right? He certainly wouldn't want to see his father like this, doing nothing but crying."
Han Shu hadn't expected that his words would elicit such an immediate reaction from Wang Guohua. Trembling, he slowly raised his head, muttering, "Son, my son... Yes, my son is very outstanding." As he said this, he actually grinned, and the twisted expression of crying while laughing made Han Shu feel uneasy.
“Yes, think about your son. What son wouldn’t want to be proud of his father and take him as a role model? Does he know that you are suspected of embezzling and accepting bribes of 3.4 million yuan in the process of participating in 11 projects, including National Highway 1032, Zhongzhou Expressway, and the widening and renovation of Xinhua Road? Can you spend this huge sum of money in your lifetime? Isn’t the purpose of the money to make your life better? If your son knew, what would he think? Could your life still be the same as before?” Han Shu realized that he might have found a breakthrough in the other party’s psychology and pressed him with questions.
Wang Guohua was clearly also struggling with inner turmoil. Under Han Shu's questioning, he clutched his head, sobbing incoherently, "No...no...I didn't...I'm guilty..."
Han Shu inwardly groaned, feeling both affirmation and denial, wondering what was going on.
“All the evidence now shows that the 3.4 million yuan went directly through your hands and its whereabouts are unknown. As a direct consequence of this, you are guilty. According to Article 383 of the Criminal Law, you face a sentence of more than ten years in prison or life imprisonment. Depending on the amount you embezzled, the sentence could be even heavier. You know what I mean. If that happens, everything will be ruined. So, Section Chief Wang, I hope you can calm down and cooperate with our investigation as much as possible, providing valuable clues. That would definitely benefit you.”
“I didn’t take it… I don’t know anything! I’m innocent…”
Wang Guohua shook his head incessantly, nearly collapsing. Han Shu sat to the side, only able to smile bitterly to himself. He claimed innocence, but refused to confess anything. Even if he was a scapegoat, he was destined to be burdened with this black bag. Prosecutor Cai was right; this case would indeed be closed soon. This seemingly cowardly and honest man, like a lump of mud, would have his life ruined, and his job would come to a smooth end. For some reason, as Han Shu packed his things to leave, he didn't feel the ease he had expected.
The officers had already lifted Wang Guohua up and were escorting him back to the detention area. Han Shu had reached the door when he heard Wang Guohua call out in a hoarse voice, "Prosecutor Han, don't tell my son about my matter. Let him study hard over there—"
This was the most complete sentence Wang Guohua had uttered since the meeting. Han Shu was somewhat puzzled, but all parents in the world feel the same plight, even though he was facing what could very well be a parasite on the country.
Throughout the afternoon's work, Han Shu couldn't shake off Wang Guohua's weeping. He wanted to prove himself right, that the man was a pitiful scapegoat. But even after repeatedly studying the materials at hand, he couldn't find any more plausible evidence to support his intuition. His cold hadn't fully healed, and after burying himself in studying for so long, he felt as heavy as lead again. Han Shu knew he was often too emotional; he loved things bright and beautiful, while his profession meant facing much darkness and ugliness.
Upon graduation, he threw himself into his work with great enthusiasm, hoping to "eliminate harm for the people." In fact, that's what he did. However, he couldn't avoid his growing fatigue and weariness. Every time he finished a case and eliminated a "harm," it didn't make him feel much better. Those dark sides stained his heart with a layer of gray, and it grew heavier and heavier.
As the get off work bell rang, he rushed out of the office building as if fleeing. Near the elevator, he nearly knocked over Prosecutor Cai, who was coming from the opposite direction. He grinned and casually put his arm around the chubby Prosecutor Cai, spinning him around. When they came to a stop, Prosecutor Cai lowered his voice and cursed, "You little brat, have you lost your mind? Weren't you sick? Where are you running off to like this? Do you dislike us that much?"
Han Shu released his grip and said, half-jokingly, "I was just chasing after my soul, did you see me?"
"Nonsense." Cai Jian said irritably, but handed Han Shu a bottle. "It's for coughs. This brand is good. I can't stand your constant coughing. You can't even find loquat trees anymore. It would be best to pick a few leaves and boil them in water to drink."
The elevator doors opened, and Han Shu quickly said, "Yilin, you're so kind!" He slipped into the elevator and hurried on his way to his car. People kept asking, "Han Shu, rushing off to a date?" He always smiled, but once he was in the car, he started to wonder, where was he going? Where was he rushing to? Zhu Xiaobei had something to do in the lab tonight; they had only seen each other a few days ago. If he went home, he didn't want to endure his parents' overly concerned nagging. "I'll just wander around," Han Shu muttered to himself. The evening weather was nice; a breeze would lift his spirits, and then he could have a simple dinner at his favorite tea restaurant, and the day would be over.
Thinking this, he started the car and drove into the traffic. At this time, the city roads were so crowded that even a fly couldn't get in. He drove around left and right, and he didn't know why, but he arrived at the fabric store that he had visited twice recently.
Han Shu didn't stop very close, but rather parked a distance away on the roadside diagonally opposite the fabric shop. Thanks to his 5.2 vision, he saw that unfamiliar yet familiar figure through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows of the fabric shop; she was there after all.
There seemed to be a few customers in the shop, probably around dinner time. There were far fewer staff, only her and another girl. She was initially standing at the counter, head down, seemingly looking at something. A few strands of her short hair fell down, obscuring her face, but Han Shu didn't need to look to see her clearly. Her head was slightly tilted, and the curve of her lips conveyed a serious expression; she looked extremely focused, perhaps lost in thought. Why was he so sure? Did he understand her? Was he imagining the real her, or a Xie Junian from his imagination?
After a while, probably hearing another employee call her, she put down what she was holding, walked over to the customer, and then began a long introduction and explanation. Throughout the process, she kept smiling, and the small, deep dimple on her cheek finally appeared.
When she laughed, she looked just like a white rabbit. Han Shu imagined that she had a pair of long ears on her head, and finally laughed happily.
That day, Zhu Xiaobei led her to his side and quietly said, "Don't you have any suitable ones? Do you need me to recommend a few to you?" Wasn't that expression just like when she faced any unfamiliar customer?
It got dark quickly, and the lights in the fabric shop came on, casting a warm yellow glow. Han Shu's car, however, became dark. He didn't like the dark, but now he didn't feel it at all. Customers who had bought their desired items left satisfied. She chatted with her colleagues for a few minutes, and then half an hour later, she disappeared for a while. When she reappeared in the shop, she was carrying her large bag, had changed out of her orange work uniform, and was heading home after get off work.
When Han Shu realized this, he thought about shrinking under his seat. He was completely unprepared to run into Xie Junian here. But damn seatbelt, why was he still wearing his seatbelt? Before he could successfully hide himself, Xie Junian had already walked past his silver Subaru Forester. He didn't even have time to roll up the window!
Han Shu was incredibly nervous. Could he say he was waiting for someone? Waiting for whom? Waiting for someone he didn't even know? Would she laugh at him? Or would she stare at him coldly?
However, Xie Junian walked past him without glancing at him, as if nothing had happened. She walked slowly, passing him as if he were an old lamppost or an inconspicuous trash can on the roadside.
She didn't even notice him.
After the initial tension, Han Shu was disappointed, like a martyr who had bravely faced death, having shouted his resounding slogans, only to be told by the enemy, "Sorry, we've arrested the wrong person." But what was so strange about that? Eleven years had passed; even a stone could change shape, let alone a person. She couldn't recognize him anymore…
And so, after Xie Junian had walked a hundred meters away, Han Shu slowly started his car and followed her. If he got too far away, he would lose her; if he got too close, she might notice him.
Xie Junian was waiting for the bus, frantically searching for his bus card. He was getting impatient. Then he watched as she finally disappeared into the crowded bus. After thirteen stops, she got off near a rural-urban fringe area that had just been incorporated into the city. She walked to a small shop by the roadside, greeted the owner, bought a bottle of milk, and walked for five minutes before disappearing behind the iron gate of an old courtyard with a red brick fence.
To be honest, Han Shu rarely came to places like this after he started working. When he left, his car wheel almost ran over a free-range chicken belonging to some resident. Children playing by the roadside looked at his car curiously. He turned back amidst the strong sense of everyday life and realized that she had actually moved back here.
From that day on, Han Shu seemed to be bewitched. After get off work, or even when he was out alone on business, he would inexplicably find himself behind Xie Junian, furtively following her. He himself knew his behavior was suspicious and utterly lewd, but he was addicted to it. In less than half a month, Han Shu had figured out Xie Junian's daily routine.