assistant
"Live on, live on, live on."
Amidst the raging flames, he heard himself mechanically repeating that phrase.
Ashes, like black snow, rushed into his nostrils. The distant choir's voices were holy and melodious, but the hymns meant for him now sounded like death knells.
He simply couldn't walk any further.
The flames had already reached the hem of his clothes.
With a deafening roar, a loud bang echoed across the sky. He raised his eyes, which were red and swollen from the black smoke.
The steel wings disintegrated, burning into fragments billowing black smoke, and plummeted straight to the ground, trailing a black tail.
He lay on the ground, so desperate that he vomited, almost as if he were about to vomit his internal organs. His ten fingers dug into his palms, dripping with blood, but this was nothing compared to the hatred and pain in his heart.
It's all gone, nothing at all.
"Waaaaah—"
Who else in this world would cry for him?
Milo slowly woke up from his coma and, upon seeing his right hand, which had been pinched and bruised, suddenly felt a strong urge to faint again.
"Let go, I'm going to be crushed to death."
The curly-haired pretty boy, who was crying his heart out, suddenly looked up, overjoyed, and quickly let go of her hand, shouting, "Ah! Milo! Milo! Milo!"
As Milo's consciousness gradually returned, he laughed at the soul-summoning voice: "Your ears are going to go deaf too."
Yuzhen wiped away her tears, stopped shouting, and hurriedly fed Milo water.
Milo finally had the strength to glance around. It was a hospital; one of his legs and one of his arms were in splints. He remembered his near-death experience at the Happiness Building. He wondered how effective his two stab wounds had been; he just hoped they would work exceptionally well, and that Blaze was alright.
Milo really wanted to give Yuuma a tissue to wipe his tears; he couldn't bear to see such a beautiful woman cry. But due to circumstances, he couldn't, so he could only comfort him instead.
"How is your brother?" Milo remembered that when he last contacted Yuzhen, he said he was going back to China.
Yuzhen was taken aback, nodded, and then, remembering that Milo was in such a terrible state and still remembered his situation, tears welled up in her eyes again.
"Sigh." Milo was at a loss. "How did you know I was here?"
With red eyes, Yuzhen replied, "I came back from home and went to the store to look for you, but you weren't there. I asked around, and a man brought me here."
Milo asked curiously, "What kind of man?"
Yuma struggled to find the right words: "Tall, black hair, good-looking, in her thirties, wearing expensive clothes."
It seems to be Miles. Milo didn't expect him to condescend to visit his little shop and even bring Yuzhen to see him.
Yuzhen held Milo's hand, extremely saddened: "You must have been in so much pain. The doctor said you had a fever after the surgery, and the virus almost burned your brain. You slept for two weeks."
After listening to his struggling explanation, Milo roughly understood. He tried, and surprisingly, he could still lift his arm, which was in a splint; it seemed his vitality was quite strong.
Milo deliberately raised his arm and pretended to fall down, which startled Yuzhen, who screamed and tried to catch him. Milo laughed and said, "You won't die."
"Milo, don't be like this." Yuzhen sat on the edge of Milo's bed, lowering her head. "I can feel that you're unhappy. If you're sad, just cry. I won't laugh at you."
Milo was silent for a while, then poked Yuuma with his stiff arm: "Silly girl, you shouldn't cry when you're sad. Crying makes you look even more pathetic, and if you look pathetic, more people will come and trample on you."
Yuzhen frowned, as if he understood, his sadness deepening. He mumbled, "I really hate Wudong Port."
Milo sighed, "Actually, it's the same everywhere."
“Milo, you’re doing something dangerous, aren’t you? This injury can’t be an accident.” Yuzhen suddenly turned her head, looked at Milo earnestly, took out a bank card from her pocket, and stuffed it into Milo’s hand. “This is the money I owe you.”
Seeing that Yuzhen's tears were still wet, Milo organized his thoughts and said, "Yuzhen, don't feel burdened by the thought of owing me anything. Money is for those who need it."
Yuzhen shook her head and said, "I'm not short of money anymore. Milo, I'll earn even more money, and then I'll take you away from Wudong Port. We'll leave together."
Milo remained silent. He wanted to use another joke to gloss over the matter, but he couldn't ignore the light shining in Yuzhen's eyes. These words were truly for his own good. In this world, true feelings are always the most precious.
"Okay." Milo felt a surge of warmth in his heart and pointed to the fruit basket. "Peel an apple for me, I'm starving."
Yuzhen immediately stood up. She had long arms and legs and looked capable, but she was clumsy when peeling an apple.
"Were you there for me during my hospital stay?"
Yuma nodded.
"Do you know who else has come to see me? Like a tall, short, black-haired young man with a small mole on his nose and a loud voice?"
Yuma shook her head: "No one else is allowed to come in here."
Milo was relieved. It was good that Jesse didn't know. If that hot-tempered guy knew, he'd probably jump on his hospital bed and strangle him.
But then I thought, he'd vanished for two weeks straight; it's impossible for Jesse to have disappeared without a trace. Unless… Miles had pulled some strings and come up with a plausible reason for his disappearance.
The thought of Miles possibly meeting Jesse sent a chill down Milo's spine. He was just about to politely ask Yuzhen to call Miles for him when Miles himself pushed open the door and came in.
Upon seeing Miles, Yuu seemed to realize his identity, and sadly lowered her eyes, put down the half-peeled apple, said goodbye to Milo, and said she would come to visit him again tomorrow.
A subtly awkward atmosphere permeated the private hospital room.
Milo broke the silence first: "Um... what did you say to my policeman friend? You've met him?"
“I took a quick look from afar and knew what you looked like and your name,” Miles said casually. “He thought you went back to Wanyang to get your identity documents replaced and took a short-term job there that paid a lot of money.”
Milo thought about it carefully and realized that the lie was unreliable in every way, but it seemed like something that he would do.
Miles sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the unpeeled apple naturally, and continued peeling.
Milo said sheepishly, "I'll just eat it skin and all."
Miles paused for a moment, ignoring Milo, and continued peeling, slicing, and forking the food before placing it in front of Milo.
The future president of the prestigious Dale Group was actually serving him food.
Milo picked up a piece of food with a fawning expression and said carefully, "Well, my attempt to infiltrate your camp failed, and it seems I've caused you a lot of trouble. I'll just pay for your hospital stay myself."
Miles looked at Milo and asked softly, "Milo, do you hate me?"
A piece of apple got stuck in Milo's throat, and he coughed violently, staring at Miles with wide eyes in surprise.
“To that person, your smile, your words, everything you said, were genuine.” Miles brought over a glass of water and patted Milo on the back. “But to me, it wasn’t.”
Milo took the water glass and replied, "You're my boss, how can you treat me the same way? I can't treat you like that."
“No,” Miles denied softly. “You should be angry with me, yell at me. Because of one wrong decision I made, you almost lost your life. The way you’re treating me right now isn’t how a normal person should act.”
Milo didn't say anything.
“I shouldn’t have let you get close to him.” Miles lowered his eyes. “From now on, you don’t have to be an undercover agent anymore.”
Milo was stunned, speechless for a long time. After hesitating for a while, he said, "I slashed him twice, so all things considered, I actually came out ahead." Milo asked curiously, "Is he still alive?"
Miles nodded: "He went back to Gan Valley."
"Ganggu?" Milo pressed, "Is it the Ganggu of Tengbang?"
Miles nodded.
Tengbang borders five countries, with rainforests and mountains covering more than half of its territory, making industrial development impossible and leading to widespread chaos and crime. Although it shares a history of colonization with Lanman, Tengbang suffers from intractable internal problems due to historical legacies. The land is divided into several autonomous states, and the central government is less militarily powerful than the local ethnic autonomous states. The most unique region is called Gangu, which, although located within Tengbang, has developed into a de facto state within a state due to its long-standing high degree of autonomy and fierce military self-defense capabilities.
Is Blaise from the Gan Valley in Tengbang?
“Once you’re better, move to Zhangtai. From now on, this won’t happen again,” Miles said.
"Sigh, there's really no need for this." Milo lowered his head, and after a long while, forced a smile. "What am I to you? I'm not complaining, but honestly, what kind of relationship do we have?"
Miles looked at Milo in silence.
“You give me money for no reason, and only see me when you need to. Under these circumstances, wouldn’t it be wishful thinking for me to still fantasize about having some kind of romantic relationship with you?” Milo sighed. “Could it be, Mr. Dale, that you’ve really fallen in love with me?”
Upon hearing this, Miles instinctively frowned, a resistance that arose from the depths of his heart, almost impossible to conceal.
Seeing this, Milo sighed deeply: "Actually, I've never understood why you raised me for six years for nothing? Sometimes, I wonder if only remembering the things you forgot can explain why you chose me?"
One day, he woke up in his hospital bed to find a tall, handsome, and successful man standing before him, apologetically saying he would take full responsibility for the car accident, including all subsequent medical expenses. The doctor told him he had suffered a severe concussion and would lose his memory. The doctor also told him his name was Milo, that he came from the Wanyang Orphanage, and that he had been on his way to take his university entrance exam when the accident occurred.
Miles said calmly, "Many things don't necessarily have a reason. I'm willing to support you without expecting anything in return. Isn't that good enough?"
“Of course that’s great. So let’s just get along like this, why do we have to be so open about everything?” Milo said with a sincere expression. “Mr. Dale, you can just be a customer and I’ll just lie there and be taken advantage of, until the day you get tired of it, then I’ll quietly get out of here.”
For a moment, their eyes met, and Miles's expression clearly turned ugly.
"Milo, I don't like you like this."
"So what if you don't like me? Is it because I'm vulgar? But I'm just a second-rate person. I love money, I love it to death, but I'm vulgar. I can't learn the kind of stuff you like, so I just don't talk much. But you insist that I say more and make more mistakes."
“I told you, you’ll never have to worry about money.”
“But that’s not mine. We’re not on the same path.” Milo sighed. “Just like your business, your many secrets, what Blaise, what Gan Valley, what mysterious banquets, mysterious deals, which one of them can I know? The day you’re dissatisfied, you’ll announce that I no longer need to be an undercover agent, just like you announced today, and then announce that I’ll be kicked out penniless.”
Miles suddenly understood something, his brows relaxed, as if he had finally figured out the crux of the unpleasant conversation.
"Only if you know my real life will you be willing to stay by my side and stop using those pretentious words to fool me, right?"
Milo didn't speak, but that was a tacit agreement.
"Next Monday, I'll be going to Ganzhou on a business trip for a week to represent Long Financial in discussing cooperation with Dale Group and the southern region. My personal assistant needs to collect information, prepare plans, and coordinate the itinerary beforehand; mistakes are not allowed."
Why are you telling me all this?
“Because I never use a personal assistant, but I might need one,” Miles said calmly. “Milo, would you be willing to be my personal assistant?”
*
Three large boxes of wax apples were delivered to the Wudonggang main urban area police station. The deliveryman threw the boxes down and said they were from a police chief's family member, and told everyone to share them. The officers on duty in the reception room checked the names and promptly opened the boxes.
The fruit is brightly colored, large and plump, and when you bite into it, it is absolutely sweet and refreshing.
When Jesse returned from work, he saw his colleagues munching on wax apples all over the room, and they crowded around him, excitedly thanking him. He was completely bewildered.
Upon hearing that the package was sent by his family in Wanyang, Jesse was initially startled. He quickly looked up the tracking number and saw that the package came from an island off the coast of Wanyang. After taking a closer look at the sender's information, Jesse hurriedly made a phone call.
"I thought you were dead? You keep disappearing, what kind of illegal work are you doing this time? You're not answering your phone or replying to your messages?"
"Go pick wax apples at the plantation, make some quick money." The person on the other end of the phone laughed cheerfully. "I've been staying at your place for so long, I should bring you some to try. So, you should waive the rent, right?"
Jesse snorted, thinking this guy was just talking nonsense again, but he didn't press the matter. The phone call had extinguished some of his anger, so he reluctantly said, "We'll see, I haven't decided yet."
"Um, I'll have to trouble you to keep an eye on my shop for me. Oh, and I have some good news: I found a job."
Jesse was overjoyed: "Really? You graduated from such a good school, how could you not find a job?" But his excitement quickly subsided. "Where will you work? In Wanyang?"
"Still in Wudong Port, Longjin Financial Health."
Jesse's smile vanished completely: "Milo, did you do this willingly?"
"Didn't you just say I'm a top student and very capable? Can't I find a job myself? I'm going on a business trip, abroad. I'll be gone for a week. While I still have money, think about what you want to bring back?"
Jesse felt a little aggrieved, but he couldn't pinpoint the source of his frustration. He simply asked sullenly, "When? I'll see you off."
The sky was clear and blue, the coconut palms swayed in the breeze, the sun shone brightly, and the sea shimmered. The luxury cruise ship gradually docked, the deck was lowered, and Milo, standing by the harbor, shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand and said to Jesse on the other end of the phone, "No need, I'm leaving soon."
There was no response for a long time.
Milo asked softly, "Hey, are you still listening?"
"Milo, do you remember the first time we met?"
Milo was silent for a while, then said, "I remember."
How could I not remember?
For Jesse, that day was one he would never forget. Four years ago, he received a call and went on a routine operation with his captain. But when they arrived at the location, they found a male college student lying in a private room with his wrists cut. The amount of blood was terrifying.
Finally, he was assigned to contact an ambulance and escort the person to the hospital. On the way, he was sweating profusely; he had never seen such a brutal wound. It was cut by shards of broken glass, at least three or four times over; he felt like his tendons were about to break. Even if the person survived, he would probably be crippled.
Jesse visited him a few times and learned his name from the medical record. Milo, a very gentle name. He was also beautiful, from a prestigious university, good at everything. His classmates all said he was lively, happy, and positive. Why would he want to commit suicide?
When he went to visit again, the man had already been discharged from the hospital. Jesse thought his connection with this person had probably ended there. Unexpectedly, six months later, a shy little boy knocked on the police station door, carrying an exaggerated flower basket that was half his height. Jesse was wheeled out amidst a crowd of envious voices, only to find out that the person who sent him the flower basket was none other than Milo.
“Do you remember what you told me back then?” Jesse asked.
Milo replied, "I said, thank you, officer. I will definitely live a good life from now on."
Jesse pursed her lips: "Milo, you must always remember this. You know, I hate it when people lie to me."
“I know,” Milo’s voice trailed off.
"Have a safe journey, Milo," Jesse said softly. "When you come back, I'll treat you to a feast. You can eat whatever you want, I'd be happy to bankrupt you."
Milo smiled and responded.
"Have you all confessed?" a voice rang out.
Milo nodded, tilted his head back, and stopped blocking the glaring sunlight.
Miles gently put his arm around Milo's shoulder and said, "The ship's here, let's go."
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