Chapter 1
Pei Huai was on a field trip when he received the call.
To avoid circuit interference, he blew a little tobacco from his lips and turned off his phone. His partner delivered the target information to him through a micro device in his ear canal.
He was a man who owed over $80,000. A former director of a cultural communications company, he won a luxury car at Texas Hold'em in Las Vegas and became addicted. During the operational phase, the company specifically retrieved his private wallet key and discovered that he not only frequented multiple casinos but also held a large amount of illegal gambling assets, making him a true gambler.
Gamblers are the most common target of debt collection in Bangkok hotels. They are usually not difficult and pose no real threat.
The microphone stand was pushed about the length of a coin from his lips. Pei Huai bit down on the bandage, letting the cotton form circles from his wrist to his fingertips. He adjusted the headset and tightened the bandage with his teeth. "Got it."
About thirty minutes later, at the northwest corner of the same alley, the gambler was cornered by his partner.
Pei Huai had been waiting for a long time in front of an unlicensed truck. Receiving a hand signal, he pulled up his hood and walked through a massive shadow. He stopped just off the man and lowered his head to examine his face.
As the young man approached, the face between the bangs gradually emerged.
——Her bleached silver hair was tied into a loose ponytail with several locks, creating a classic but long half-wolf tail style.
His eyes were sharp, like an eagle's, yet distinctly black and white, as if they could smoothly slice through fingers and flesh, or slit a throat. In the first second of eye contact, one often didn't realize it was just a sight.
Ignoring the other party's stunned and confused expression, Pei Huai glanced at the edges of the surrounding buildings and returned to his original position.
Very smoothly, he blocked his target - a former director who lied all the time and threatened to jump off the building or bite his tongue to commit suicide. He was also an obese middle-aged man with white fat overflowing from his waistband when he knelt down.
Pei Huai leaned over and slapped him, then ordered him to bite off his tongue to save himself the trouble of bleeding.
Of course, in the end, it was the tongue that did the trick. After a stalemate of ten seconds, it finally spat out a bank card password with a trembling voice.
Confirm the amount. Call it a day.
He squatted on tiptoe and pried open the man's curled and contracted fingers. He twisted the scorpion claw on his index finger outward, leaving a long bloody mark on the other's fingertip.
Two contracts were slapped on his partner's shoulders. He took them, grasping the man's still-bleeding finger without a word, pressing it against the signature line. Two copies. Pei Huai took only one, spread his five fingers, and then turned his wrist to retract the knife.
"Twenty-seven thousand, I received it. The daily interest rate is five percent, and the repayment date is one month from now." His voice had a unique, melodious quality, like the humming of a bagpipe. "Director Zheng, see you then."
The sun hadn't even set when the commissions were settled. Pei Huai's partner of several years happily hooked his arm around his shoulder and offered to treat him tonight. The guy was incredibly excited. After all, if he hired a skilled accountant, the commission would be properly remitted to an overseas bank, laundering a significant amount of dirty money.
However, these activities soon had nothing to do with Pei Huai.
Today was the last time they would work together. The company sent a notice this morning, asking Pei Huai to start training a new employee early tomorrow morning.
Ruan Yunhao handed him a whole cigarette, shielding him from the wind with his right hand. "Brother Pei, how did you know this old man would come here? Didn't you have a backup plan in advance?"
"Go straight, there's a casino." Pei Huai took a puff, gathering the nicotine at the root of his tongue. "He can't run away."
"Hey, that old man is still planning on gambling? The creditors have been to his house several times, and he won't even stop." Ruan Yunhao puckered his cheeks and followed his movements. "If you ask me, it's more comfortable to be with you. You think far ahead, and you have a sharp vision. I don't think even a tick can crawl out from between your fingers."
Pei Huai ignored him, flicked away his cigarette, stood up, slapped the hand around his shoulder, and walked on. The cigarette didn't taste very good. He didn't usually smoke, so he couldn't stand the tar content of secondhand smoke.
"Hey, don't leave so hastily." Ruan Yunhao tried hard to keep up with his pace, so anxious that he missed the last two puffs. "Are you in a hurry to go back or what? At least give me a definite answer whether I'm going to treat you or not."
Seeing that the other party didn't even bother to say a word, Ruan Yunhao sighed with relief, which was not surprising.
Speaking of his partner, his superiority wasn't just in appearance. Even though he had a difficult personality, his decisive and efficient approach was enough to silence the criticism.
Although for some unknown reason, Pei Huai did not take the management position, in this area, he has long been recognized as a backbone elite of Bangkok Hotel.
Ruan Yunhao thought about it and straightened his aching right arm, then clamped it with his bent left arm, forming a cross. "Brother Pei, I'm not lying to you. Just looking at you makes me feel a dozen years younger."
A pair of Martin boots stopped in front of a mobile stall sign. A hand pulled out a plastic chair, and the tone was flat: "So?"
Realizing he had spoken out of turn, Ruan Yunhao gave a rare apologetic smile and sat down perfunctorily. This time, he had treated everyone to old duck vermicelli soup.
Just soup, a few vermicelli noodles, a sprinkle of cilantro, and nothing else. The owner was an old acquaintance of theirs, so out of courtesy, he only charged for the soup base. Fortunately, Pei Huai wasn't particular about food, so he accepted his offer.
Ruan Yunhao broke open his chopsticks and scraped them a few times. "Brother Pei, can I transfer some money to you via WeChat?"
“No need.”
"No, it's not a bribe, nor is it shady business. It's really just that following you, working all day is like riding a slide, nothing difficult. I'm a little embarrassed." He scratched his nose, holding his breath and blowing on a row of slippery vermicelli. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Next time you need work, just come to me. No matter what share others offer, as long as you tell me, I will definitely give you a lower one."
Pei Huai skimmed off the fat with the edge of a spoon and scooped up a layer of the soup base to test the saltiness. It was saltier than last time, but not a big deal. He lowered his eyes and made no comment.
On the other hand, Ruan Yunhao was still trying every possible way to show his courtesy: "How about we add each other on WeChat? It's okay if you don't check your phone normally. I won't disturb you."
"Let's talk about it later."
"How can we talk about this later? I promise I won't say a word unless it's urgent." He gestured to the boss at the cashier and called for a basket of fried dumplings. "I know you've always followed the company's instructions. But this time it was so sudden. Maybe there's a new person from the head office who's hard to deal with and they're trying to transfer him to your name and trick you into giving them a training. This is a big problem, don't you think?"
His performance during the speech, the details of his eyes and the stretching of his skin were incredibly rich. What he said was not without reason. At least, Pei Huai couldn't find any fault with it.
He was silent for a moment and finally chose to compromise.
"……Hold on."
"Okay. Thank you!"
He flicked the switch briefly, then returned to sipping his salty soup. By the time his attention shifted back from the desktop, the boot screen had just finished. An unfamiliar text message popped up.
This was a strange thing—he lifted the phone in his left hand, raising it to his face. Not many people had known this number since high school. Aside from his brother, his carrier, his Bangkok hotel, and the spam messages he'd marked, there were no other contacts.
Because this string of out-of-town numbers that was difficult to memorize was obtained by him with the help of his stepmother's ID card when he just started high school, and he had never exchanged phone numbers with anyone other than his younger brother.
However, they have lost contact for many years.
He tapped the notification bar twice, then glanced at it slowly from the corner of his eye. After just one glance, his hand paused, and he suddenly froze in place.
Only two or three sentences were edited in that text message.
Ah Huai, Second Uncle couldn't get through to you on the phone. I had no choice but to text you to tell you that your brother will be buried the day after tomorrow. Come back and see him.
In a moment of carelessness, the plastic spoon slipped from my hand, sending a splash of liquid from the bottom. The chili oil hit the edge of the plastic and broke into oval droplets.
He wanted to change chopsticks to fish it out, but he still couldn't find the small piece of plastic.
***
It was already late at night when I returned to my rental apartment. The hallway sensor light had malfunctioned again, flickering a few times before completely shutting down. Normally, if you report a problem, a repairman would arrive within a few days, but this time, they said an apprentice had been sent. It had been almost three or four days, and the light hadn't even come on.
The third floor. There were only two households on this floor, one vacant and the other Pei Huai's temporary residence. He stood in front of the door, searching for his key in the light from the office building across the street. Before he could find the keyhole, he saw a bouquet of blue roses stuck in the handle, wrapped in brown paper.
All of these flowers had their thorns trimmed off their stems. Their petals were bright and moist, looking as if they had just been picked. Three days ago, Pei Huai had received this kind of gift for the first time.
Roses, not the usual red. He was really surprised to see such a gift with such a special meaning here.
Pei Huai had always been keen to protect his privacy. Few people knew his exact address outside of his colleagues and company, and he wasn't in the habit of ordering takeout or shopping online. Therefore, he initially suspected the package had been delivered to the wrong person and didn't think much of it after throwing it away.
But the next day, a more gorgeous bouquet appeared on time when I got home from overtime. It was sprayed with water to keep it moist - and then it became kitchen waste in the trash can.
It never ends. He threw the flowers impatiently and opened the door a crack with a click.
At this moment, a card stuck in the vertical slit floated to his feet. He bent down and picked it up in confusion.
The room and the hallway were both a bit dark, and trying to read the words clearly was a torture to the eyes. Pei Huai unlocked his phone, supplementing the light source while also illuminating the unique card.
The paper is small and delicate, and the handwriting on it has a relatively shallow scratch running to the right.
A beautifully written passage was spread out on the paper. He silently read it in the dim light.
[Brother, do you dislike the color blue? Do you dislike flowers? Why do you always frown every time you receive them?]
Click.
He suddenly looked up as if he heard something and looked at the long and deep corridor behind him.
Rusty water trickled from the seams at the bottom of the milk crates. The walls, peeling with paint, were plastered with advertisements of all sizes: cranes, locksmiths, and repair shops, so many that they practically covered the entire aisle, creating a bizarre, upside-down view.
Pei Huai vaguely felt that the sound came from upstairs, similar to the sound of a shutter. At this moment, the sound-activated lights on the upper floor turned off and on.
The filament flickered in response, lighting up for a final moment.
Before it went out, he clearly saw—
Above the stairs, a vague portrait lay scattered. Strangely, someone had drawn a heart with a red marker on the subject's lips.
The protagonist of that photo was himself.
The author has something to say:
*The title of "brother" is very common for Pei Ge, after all, many people cling to him and call him brother.
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